by Ashur Rose
Get him out of here? Was she trying to rescue him? He stifled a laugh.
She hurried to reach for him. “Just try and relax. And it helps to bend your knees.”
Iain flinched away. He wanted to warn her. He wanted to tell her to stay clear of him—that his touch could be deadly. But she was persistent and grabbed his hands anyway, and in a dreamlike state, he steadied his eyes on her. Why her eyes stared back into his, he wasn’t sure.
He remained perfectly still; lips parted enough to let a ragged breath escape. He hadn’t culled for his subs and the feel of her touch jolted him. She was human. That much was true. But like a diune, there was something more warring beneath the surface.
Her essence rose to meet his fingers. The very potential of what stirred inside her was enough to make his fangs descend. He fought to keep them concealed. His intent was not to frighten her off. He waited for her essence to break through, to travel inside him and satisfy his aching need. But it stayed in place, refusing to surrender to his touch.
Her fingers pressed harder into his skin. The tiny jolts of her power surged into him, slowly lifting the veil over his vision. He blinked. Hard. Each time his sight became clearer.
He could see her, every detail of her, this woman with determination furrowing her brows. Those eyes—hazel pools—stared at him suspiciously. The way her teeth bit down on her full bottom lip in that frustrated way made his cock twitch. He got a feeling that his cock would be doing that a lot when around her. His eyes fell over her neck, to her breasts and the name badge pinned there, then back to her slender face. Her beauty was her own. And though unconventional, he could not steal his eyes away from her.
Her touch locked him in place and coursed through his veins, imprinting itself with him on a cellular level in the way only a pure’s touch could. It had been too long for him. His muscles stiffened as he fought to keep his spectra and erection contained.
“How…?” Her words trailed off as she stepped closer to Iain, her black hair framing her face. She extended her free hand to his chest and laid her palm flat over his throbbing spectra as if she knew it belonged there. He made a deep, feral sound as bits of her energy leaked into him. Dear Phyrss, this woman was about to drive him over the edge.
He leaned forward, encouraged by her tug on his leather coat. Her fingers latched at him greedily and he was all too happy to oblige. The woman rose to her tiptoes to meet him. But he would have none of that and grabbed her around her waist, snatching her close to keep her from straining to reach him. Possessing her lips, he took her breaths into him, devouring each small sigh she made.
He kissed her deeply, plunging into her mouth. His tongue had never known such sweetness—had never been so eager to explore flesh. Nothing compared to the burning desire he felt now. Every inch of his being was ready to satisfy her.
Cupping the back of her neck, he ran his calloused thumb over the supple skin of her throat. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine how soft other places of her body would be.
She pressed harder into him, continuing to assault him with burning jolts of energy beyond any ecstasy he had ever known. He grunted, his stiff length pressing painfully into his zipper.
The fangs he desperately tried to restrain extended to their full length. At their appearance, she stared at him unflinchingly, her breaths just as hard and ragged as his.
That’s when the footfalls moved behind Iain.
Returning from her daze, the woman pushed away from Iain’s hold. She touched her parted lips before glancing past him.
He didn’t have to follow her gaze to know there were shades occupying the space behind him. And merely three this time—an annoying intrusion that would pay with their lives. When he turned to face the woman again, he saw only her white glow. Her features disappeared from his half-sight without her touch. She ran down the alleyway entrance with one of the shades scaling the walls behind her.
Iain dealt with the remaining two. In a blur of speed, he stared into the fiery eyes of one as he ripped its throat from its scaly neck. He made quick work of the last shade, leaving its still-beating heart on the alley floor.
Iain ran down the alleyway. He looked across the sidewalks lined with colors and reached for his gloves when the whiteness of his pure’s glow caught his eye, scurrying across the street. The shade she desperately tried to escape was close, shielding itself from the onslaught of humans.
Iain stepped into traffic without looking. The brakes of cars screeched to a halt within feet of hitting him. He ran between cars and taxis to get to her. The shade who trailed close behind immediately abandoned its pursuit when she crossed onto the consecrated grounds of an abandoned church.
Iain walked up to the church, trench coat billowing in the wind, and called out to her. “Lilith.”
She turned around. Though he could not see her eyes without her touch, he felt her stare raking over him, resting uneasily on his now-gloved hands.
He moved toward her slowly, as if she were a thing easily frightened. “Don’t go,” he demanded. Back home, his command to her would have been enough.
But this wasn’t Empyrean.
“I don’t even know you.” Her voice trembled.
“I’m Iain. And you will know me.”
Iain saw her hands glow that familiar color and heard the chains locking the church’s door rattle behind her. “I don’t what kind of trick you pulled back there, but I think it’s best I keep my distance from you.”
Iain stepped forward, wanting to urge her to reconsider. Had she only known the extent of what she had done to him tonight, she would have some leniency.
The chains fell to the ground in a melted heap. She flung open the doors and dashed inside. Iain used what was left of his speed to meet her at the threshold, catching her heady scent as his frame filled the doorway.
“Stay here—with me,” he said.
He didn’t need to have superior senses to hear her breath catch and her heart quicken. “Goodbye, Iain.”
The doors shut in his face.
He rushed in after her, but like so many times before, she’d vanished.
Iain clenched his jaw and grunted. The woman had him so worked up, he felt like killing something.
He scrubbed his hands down his face, wiping shade’s blood from his brow and upper lip as the taste entered his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, catching a faint glimpse into the past life of one of the shades he’d killed. The images flashed and pressed against Iain’s forehead as he struggled to contain them. This demon had been young, newly born. Iain didn’t need to see his past life to know this. The quality of its blood told him so. The bitter, untamed blood roamed wildly down his throat. Iain pulled from it an image of the creature standing in a circle of other shades bleeding themselves into a vessel from slits in their hands. An image formed on the bloody surface, slowly taking shape with eyes that burned into Iain’s. His pure. She had been their target. But what had the shades wanted with her?
A shot of unfiltered anger ran through him. The shades had meant her harm. Had wanted her. But they couldn’t have her because she was his. That’s all the Bane in him knew.
He needed her, wanted her, and he would not be denied.
Iain staggered to his loft, unable to fly, depleted by his encounters—welcomed and unwelcomed. He may have been blind, but he had a new outlook on life and a desire to live. But battling those shades without culling from them had used the last of his strength; a few hours more of darkness would waste him. Of this he was certain.
He climbed the stairs to his loft, seeking out the roof. He stepped out of his jeans and into the predawn, perching on the roof’s edge that overlooked the city. The trench coat fell in a heap from his shoulders, revealing his wings. He commanded them to enlarge. Massive, shimmering and gray, they reached out wildly before clasping around his midsection and enveloping him completely.
He remained perfectly still as the first bit of sunlight crested over the horizon, replenishing his power and
hardening his skin to stone. He would need all the strength he could get. He would need it and much more to find his pure again.
CHAPTER FOUR
LILITH
LILITH MATERIALIZED IN THE graveyard of a church and immediately collapsed into a ball. She clutched her chest and stifled a scream. The burning burrowed deeper now and grew more intense than she’d even known. She rubbed her fingers over the inferno, pleading for relief she knew wouldn’t come. And not because there was none, but because she’d left it on the other side of town.
Every brooding inch of him.
It wasn’t lost on her that the burning in her chest had stopped with his calm presence. She just didn’t know why. And what the hell was she thinking when she’d kissed him? She didn’t go around lip-locking with random guys. Wasn’t her style.
Though she’d be lying if she said she wouldn’t do it again.
She’d never experienced a kiss like his: hungry, intoxicating…powerful. Even now the phantom heat of his cruel, perfect lips lingered on hers. She could taste him—smell the heavy leather scent on his skin…
Damn, she wasn’t a weak-in-the-knees type of girl but drinking in his tall, muscular frame curled her toes. Something about him overruled her senses and smothered the fire in her chest. The urge to satisfy her most basic need when she’d touched him scared her. If only she’d taken him up on his offer to stay. She could have gauged his intentions, decided for herself if he was dangerous.
Lilith shook her head at the thought. She knew better. She would have been exposed. While the thought of being vulnerable in the presence of such a fine specimen of masculinity wasn’t entirely a bad thing, there was that small matter of her powers not working on him.
She still didn’t know what had possessed her to try to fade them both from the alley full of demons. She couldn’t have been concerned for his safety. The guy had shown he was more than capable of handling himself. She’d seen the demon corpses littering the alley floor. She hadn’t killed them. He had. And in the most inhuman way.
With steadier breaths, Lilith pushed away from the tomb and through the gates of the graveyard. The late hour brought out the worst in the city. As if demons weren’t enough, she’d also have to avoid the occasional thief or rapist lurking in the shadows.
She was only a few blocks away from her building. The apartment had been miles away from what Lilith had been accustomed to in a life that seemed so long ago. But this was what she needed. Existing in a perpetual state of broke, working low-income jobs, meant low profile.
Lilith checked her surroundings before punching her code into the security pad that let her inside the building. She found it ironic that the owner, who cared so little for the building’s upkeep, would maintain a secured entrance. She wiped the street filth from her shoes against the dusty, tattered carpet lining the foyer and ignored the new graffiti left on the walls by her teenage neighbors as she climbed the stairs. When she reached her front door, she tore away the second eviction notice she’d left taped to it for weeks now. And as if to add insult to injury, once inside she flicked the light switch on only to discover the power was off.
“Damn it,” she hissed, letting her head rest against the doorframe. High school may have taught Lilith the Pythagorean Theorem in what little time she’d been there, but it had not taught her how to survive the world.
She threw off her jacket, went into the kitchen, and found the matches needed to light the candles. At her table near the window, she moved her GED prep book aside, dumped her pockets and counted the crumpled one-dollar bills in tips from tonight. Working at Serendipity wasn’t glamorous in pay or otherwise. Avoiding men and the occasional woman playing grabby ass with her while she served cocktails was the least of her worries. Her boss didn’t make the dancers tip out like they were supposed to. So at the end of a long, busy night, Lilith was left with tips that didn’t cover all her rent or utilities. But there weren’t many job options for a high school dropout in this city and she couldn’t wait for a bi-weekly paycheck at the local food chains. Daily pay was essential just in case she needed to pack up and leave town quickly, which she did often.
She gathered her earnings and stuffed them inside a shoebox under her bed. Making her way to the bathroom, she peeled off the tennis shoes and sweatpants that covered her fishnet stockings and skimpy dress uniform. She tossed the clip-on collar to the floor and turned on the shower. Thank God the water and gas weren’t off. A hot shower after a long day like this was the only thing that could make it all better.
As she melted against the pouring water, she let the troubles of the night flow down the drain. This one act of normalcy had been a practice of hers since she’d ascended into her power three years ago. Without the help of her mother, who suppressed her own powers, it had been tough back then, in one moment living the life of an average teenager, and in the next, running from hellish creature threatening to kill her. Having demons bent on her destruction made being a hunter an extremely lonely existence. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d held a decent conversation with a man. Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held—with the exception of tonight. She couldn’t allow anyone to get close. She already had one death suffusing the depths of her conscience and she didn’t plan on adding another.
She dried off, wrapped her hair in a towel turban and put on an oversized sleeping shirt. In the warmth of her bed, she let her mind wander to Iain—to his touch, his kiss, his otherworldliness. She remembered the sharp angles of his face and his prominent cheeks. His straight nose pointed down to full lips and she could swear she’d seen the pointed tips of fangs. Lilith knew of a few creatures with fangs, and none of them were particularly nice.
His blazing eyes had consumed her with their eagerness. She couldn’t determine if she was haunted or mesmerized by them. But one thing she knew for certain was they’d committed her face to his memory. He wanted her. And Lilith knew all too well what a dangerous thing that was.
CHAPTER FIVE
IAIN
ROCK TURNED TO WARM flesh as the sun set over Iain’s back. He rose from the ledge feeling violently ravenous. The sun rejuvenated his body but could not replace his desire to feed or seek Lilith. He needed to take penance in order to be useful in his search and he needed to take it soon.
Without a stitch of clothing, Iain crossed the rooftop and descended into his loft. The wall-less interior allowed for moonlight to illuminate the room and the smooth curves of the dark leather furniture inside. Light played against the hard lines of his muscled back as he padded to the kitchen and poured a glass of cool water to calm himself. Tortured by the image of Lilith as he rested, he prayed to the Phyrss that she was safe. His pure was proficient in battle, of this he was sure, but if one shade had managed to do harm to her, he would take great joy in laying waste to the miserable bastard.
He wiped water from his mouth, remembering how Lilith’s lips had felt when they’d last touched his. He would come to know her, he vowed. Come to know every inch of the female whose very presence had awakened his senses. He remembered with unsteadiness how the warmth of her fingers had seeped into his skin and sparked his mating spectra. Her scent was with him still and just as potent as it had been in the alley. His knees buckled as he tried to control the tremors raking over him from the thought of possessing her in every way as his pure. His heart pumped his frustrations throughout his entire body.
Shards of glass flew onto the counter from his clenched fist. Sweet Phyrss, he’d never felt this way about a female before, let alone one who was half-human.
Loud thuds sounded above him.
Boots. Size thirteen or better. Heavily worn.
His brothers Cree and Steele stepped down into the loft. Steele, the next to eldest, stood with folded arms and his dark shades pushed into his Caesar haircut. The long scar stretching from his forehead through his left eyebrow and down just below his cheek was one hell of a caution sign and a grisly reminder of his love for battle.
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“I didn’t fly all the way over here to see your ass,” Steele said.
Iain pushed the shards of glass into the sink and walked from behind the counter with not only his ass showing, but also one full erection.
Steele looked over the rim of his shades. “Or your crooked dick.”
“I didn’t invite you over. Call next time.” Iain felt for his jeans on the armrest of the couch and pulled them on. “What are you two doing here anyway? This had better not be a damn intervention.”
Iain walked into his room to grab a shirt. He should tell them about Lilith. Maybe then they’d stop riding him about culling. But what could be said? I’ve met my pure, but I don’t know what she is, her whereabouts, or if she’ll accept me as her intended. He’d never live it down…if he decided to live at all.
“Raze needs to see us tonight. He says something’s up with the shades. Might be something big,” Cree said.
Raze knew how and where to find Iain. Because of Iain’s humanness and a trait only Raze had inherited from their father, his oldest brother connected with him in ways Cree and Steele couldn’t. If there was something to be said between Raze and him, Iain certainly didn’t have to be in Raze’s presence to find out.
“Must not be important,” Iain said, rummaging through a pile of laundry. He’d fired his cleaning lady a few weeks ago when he’d decided to end his life. Having folded clothes and swept floors seemed pointless before Lilith. “I’ll meet with him later.”
“Can’t wait, bro. We’re talking about ‘second purge’ kind of big.”
Iain’s fingers knotted into the fabric under his hand as he looked over his shoulders at the Banes standing in his living room. The first purge had nearly wiped out half their species. Zorn had sent out his militia of shades armed with sorainese. Bloodlines were lost, allegiances broken, and many were left pure-less in its wake. The rift between some clans could still be felt to this day. But Zorn had been defeated and much healing had taken place since then, which was why Iain didn’t find this amusing in the least. “If this is some type of joke—”