Dead Drop

by Carolyn Jewel

  He wasn’t suppressing his power. Even without a connection between them, he bowled her over. She absorbed her terror of him so she would have this moment to bring to mind. He stood at least ten inches taller than in his human form, broader across the shoulders and chest. His eyes were gold, flecked with green, a thing of nightmare. Her heart gave a thud. This otherworldly Palla was monstrous, and beautiful, and beyond understanding. What had she been thinking, dealing with him as if he were, at heart, just like her? He wasn’t. He’d never been safe just because he looked human. He wasn’t. He wasn’t human at all.

  He opened his clenched hand, palm up. The cylinder he’d taken from the box was gone. That faint call of madness remained, though, the unsettling wrongness. He folded his taloned fingers, a languorous motion of fluid joints. He turned his hand sideways. Translucent sand streamed toward the floor and pattered onto the hardwood. When the last of it was gone, he spread his arms wide, muscles tense, head back. Grains of the substance clung to his hand and glittered in the light. The stars on the ceiling glowed.

  Now that his palms were turned toward her, she saw a dot of lava-red on the center of his palm. The dot shimmered and formed a tail that writhed and snaked toward his wrist. She focused on that. Avitas.

  He straightened, turned his head to her with those fully gold eyes that were not human. His mouth curved, slowly, and a moment later she felt his psychic push at her. Not because he was trying to connect, but because that was his nature as demonkind.

  “So,” he said. “Now we wait.”

  Wallace went to him and studied his palm. The tail that had emerged from that livid red dot extended past his wrist. The color wasn’t a stain, it was under his skin, part of his hide, moving, swirling like a living thing, stretching along his arm, and her heart folded over with the conviction that no demon could survive prolonged contact with the power now concentrated there.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Like fucking hell.” The voice that came from the changed planes of his face and mouth rumbled from deep in his chest. He curled his other hand around the back of her neck. She ought to be afraid of him, but she wasn’t.

  She set a hand on his torso, smoothing his skin, gliding along that amazing black-green iridescence. She leaned in and pressed her lips to the center of his chest. His fingers tightened on her, slid up and covered the back of her skull. For two beings with so many differences, the thought of losing him after everything they’d been through panicked her.

  He kept her near—she stayed close—and they remained like that for a long time. Forever. She floated along his vast, internal quiet until he swayed against her. She jammed her shoulder under his armpit. If he collapsed, he’d crush her in their fall.

  Together, they stumbled to the couch, and he sprawled full length. His body changed several times in succession. He faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes alert; the Palla she knew so well. Other times, he was a blank to her. Different forms; beast, devil, animal. His human form. Once, only once, a human woman with blonde curls and icy blue eyes. Wallace took the woman’s hand and kissed her palm. She was Palla, and they had loved each other.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “Forever. Both of you.”

  The woman’s shape was subsumed by the creature she’d first seen. His eyes opened, he shuddered. The red streak on his arm was halfway to his elbow now. She moved away, but he caught her hand and brought her back. “Wallace.”

  She put her hands on his chest and concentrated on him, on the pain that wracked him. She drew that pain into her, and after a few minutes, it seemed to her that he was better.

  He was mostly himself now, his thoughts clear, and that had to be a good thing, right? She lay her head on his chest, relieved and terrified both. Let it be this easy, please. He slid both hands down her back, bringing her forward while he whispered her name. She gripped his other hand, ignoring the prick of a talon on the back of her hand. He flared in her head, raw, searing, and their connection was immediately two-way. She wasn’t new to this anymore. She could take care of herself.

  “No shit, angel.”

  She laughed, despite feeling like she’d rather cry, and then, without warning, the tears that had been threatening spilled from her.

  One of his arms tightened around her, and he stood and brought her with him. She set her hands on his chest while his fingers followed her arms downward to bracelet her wrists. He walked her backward, an arm around her waist so she wouldn’t fall.

  That red line undulated beneath his skin. He stumbled once on his way to his room. Just one of those things, right? They made it to his bed, and while he worked at her clothes, she was thinking, like this. With him like this because they might never get the chance again.

  The streak moving up his arm was to his elbow now. His skin was hot, his hands warm when he touched her. Tension sizzled between them, familiar and at the same time utterly different this time because he was in his true form.

  She put a hand on his belly, above his cock and then down, and she bent and took him in her mouth, and there he was in her thoughts, feeding her his response, and she managed to think you don’t hate witches as much as you say.

  He touched her shoulders, glided fingers over her skin, and he did come in her mouth, and she went along with him, feeling the moment when he was vulnerable to her because he’d let his climax take him away, and the entire time, she drew away the pain that was wracking him.

  He touched her everywhere, after that, everywhere, and he savored the difference—the fact that she was human, and that he could touch her magic, and that was something, the way her heart raced.

  The moment came when he pulled himself over her, she knew he was supposed to get her consent to this. He stilled, his cock hard, his alien, otherworldly features aligning in angles that weren’t human. “I need yes.”

  That red streak was past his elbow now. He slid a thigh between her legs, and she could not imagine living another five seconds without him inside her. She put a hand on the arm he propped on the mattress above her shoulders and touched that red line. There was an image in her head now, of that line snaking around his throat, curling around to the back of his neck and upward.

  “What happens then?”

  “I’m either dead or not.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed the side of her throat. “Yes?” he asked in a voice and with a mind that was demon. Not human. “Yes, like this? Yes, I can taste your blood. Yes, I get to make love to you so you won’t forget even a second of this. I’ll change back in time, I swear it.”

  She might never hold him again. Never again. “Yes, yes, please.”

  Green and yellow flecks flashed through his eyes, and then he was pushing into her. She arched to meet him, to make it happen, and she hollowed out again at the sensations, the impossibility of the creature inside her, the way their minds slid alongside each other, intermingled even.

  There was a desperation to their lovemaking. She couldn’t erase the possibility that he might not survive, and or that he was thinking that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be sorry to have this experience be one of his last.

  He slid a talon along her arm, over the band of color around her biceps, and they both felt the surge of electricity, the sizzle of contact. With his mouth, he touched the side of her throat, warm tongue. Soft lips. The pressure of sharp teeth. Tension built in her. He closed his teeth but not enough to hurt or break her skin. Harder now. A sting, and while he drew out that sensation, he also pushed deeper into her.

  One of his hands pinned her wrists to the mattress. With the other, he turned her chin away, exposing more of her throat. The sting blossomed. A nick. Enough to draw blood, and when he tasted, her mind whirled with colors she could not name. His hips pressed into her, and he let her see and feel what it was like for him to have a human woman’s body in his arms, to have the taste of her blood in his mouth, singing through him. He released her hand and drew a talon down her side and there was a surge of power in the wake of that
contact.

  Close. Her body’s response headed to unendurable. Too much. Too much. She was too wet, too aroused. The edge was too close, too close for them both, and she could not imagine him stopping. He was mentally withdrawing from her in preparation for his transformation to human form, and it struck her as tragic, wrong. The wrong thing for them. She stroked his arms, running her fingers over his arms and the muscles there. “Stay. Like this. Please, stay.”

  He stilled. That vivid red line now reached to the top of his shoulder. “I can’t.”

  “You can if I agree. If you want that, too.”

  “You understand what that means?”

  “I do.”

  He moved in her once. A pull backward of his pelvis and a slow slide forward, and, God, she felt good having him in her. So good. “Angel. You need to say it’s okay for me to do this with you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Nikodemus will take care of you. He’ll make sure you have everything you need.” He cupped the side of her face, his weight propped on his other arm. He was thrusting in her again, slowly for now, but he was already coming apart and taking her with him. “If I get through this, I’ll do the needful. You won’t be alone unless you want to be.”

  “I know that.”

  There were no spoken words after that. She held him and at the end, when he’d come, she could not tell the difference between them.

  Half an hour later, the red line had snaked around his throat like a chain, and then, from one breath to the next, he collapsed.

  CHAPTER 19

  Wallace got back to the apartment later than she expected. None of Palla’s wards had gone off. She wasn’t sure what to think of that. Shouldn’t they have? By the time she was in the elevator, she knew there were more demons than just Palla inside his apartment. She dropped her purse and her coat by the door and kicked off her shoes per usual. She could be cool about this.

  All conversation had stopped when she came in, and there was a weird vibe she didn’t understand. It made her jumpy. Maddy was here. So was Tau and another of the demons who’d worked with Maddy’s street witches.

  Most of the others here were demons, though there was one who was a mage. They stood near various windows and doors looking like they thought she was going to riffle through their wallets when no one was looking, and it was their job to make sure that didn’t happen. She and Palla exchanged a glance, and he nodded, somber. Not closed off, but not fully open, either.

  Her pulse stuttered when she realized what this must be. Nikodemus. The demon warlord was here personally. Palla was sworn to the warlord, and that meant Palla had to be focused now on whatever business Nikodemus had here. She lifted a hand and concentrated on a familiar and, she hoped, still friendly, face. “Hey, Maddy.”

  A cute woman with purple hair and a tattoo on her temple stood beside Maddy. Next to her was a gorgeous Southeast Asian man—demon. Or magekind. She wasn’t actually certain. Palla stood on the other side of the couch from Maddy. Everyone who wasn’t staring at her was staring at the man on the couch. He had on a black tee-shirt that said Demons Get Possessive in big red, gothic lettering. He stood. He was tall, and he had a great smile. “Wallace Jackson?”

  “Yes.”

  The Indian demon moved toward the man in the black shirt, and she got a chill because he had that way of moving that the more powerful demons had. The air around the warlord shifted in response. Everyone, Palla included, positioned themselves around him, and he looked like he expected no less.

  “Wallace,” Maddy said. “Good to see you again.”

  She scratched the back of her neck and wondered if maybe she should start growing her hair so she could do cornrows. It was time to change up her look. “I didn’t know there was going to be a party.”

  Palla was too serious. Much too serious. He pressed three fingers to his forehead and bowed. “This is Nikodemus.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Wallace. I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Yes, sir.”

  “You kept my guy here alive.” He nodded at Palla.

  She shrugged. “It was more a mutual thing.”

  “That’s not how I heard the story, but I’ll take your version under advisement. Now. Maddy’s told you how this works, right? Palla, too. He should have.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nikodemus was quiet a little longer than was comfortable for anyone. He sent a sideways look in Palla’s direction. “He better have.” He waved a hand. He had a star ruby in one ear. Rubies had properties that enhanced magic for the magekind. He was making a statement wearing one at all. “Then you know the deal, right?”

  “About?”

  He gave her another long look. “For now, I mean you being a witch in my territory. You know the deal about that.”

  “I know there’s rules.”

  “Rules. Yeah, there’s rules.” He nodded and sent her another big grin. “Don’t break them.”

  “No, sir. I won’t.”

  “You got tagged as having significant power.”

  She laughed, and then stopped because no one else was laughing. Palla gave her what should have been a fatal case of stink-eye, but she was used to that and ignored his glare.

  “I have no problem with humans who have a little something going with magic. Most of them can’t hurt anybody. I don’t bother them as long as they can control themselves and stay safe. Someone like you, we have to deal with differently.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me make it clear, though, if you and Palla have a kid, no worries there. No one leaves you without resources in that respect. The kin don’t abandon our kids or their parents, mothers or fathers. It’s not civilized, not looking after family. Nobody goes without.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Notwithstanding, if you want to stay in my territory, you swear fealty to me, or you swear unaligned. No exceptions.” He was still smiling, but his eyes were hard. Her chest tightened. “That’s the way it works. In case no one set that out for you.”

  Nikodemus was talking about an oath that had power. As in break the oath, and you were lucky if you died quickly.

  “You understand those rules?”

  “Except in defense of self or family, no harming the magekind. For the magekind, no magehelds allowed, not in flesh and not incorporeal. No killing a demon.”

  “Close enough.” He nodded as if he were thrilled. “If you go unaligned you can’t work with Maddy. That’d be taking sides.”

  “I know that.”

  He sent another sideways look at Palla. “The way things are right now, I can’t have my people shacking up with magekind or kin I can’t trust. And I can’t trust anyone who isn’t sworn. Maybe that’s unfair, but that’s how it works.”

  She nodded.

  “The oath isn’t exactly permanent, but it’s safer all around if you assume it is. If we have a problem, I’ll know about it, and so will you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If you swear fealty, there’s no going back. There’s obligations on both sides. You’d have my back. I’d have yours.”

  She nodded.

  “Right.” He touched one index finger to the other, counting off. “Option A, you stay unaligned and solo. You mind your own business. Option B, you swear fealty to me.” He touched his second finger. “Option C is I pay your expenses, and you leave now. We keep tabs on you and the baby. We need to know how that goes. Clear?”

  “Sure.” The demons and magekind sworn to the warlord could be called on at any time, up to and including fighting for him in a war.

  “I’m hoping you’ll join me.” He looked around the room, smiling like he was at a party, and he was an extrovert. She reminded herself he was dangerous.

  “Why?” She didn’t want to stop working with Maddy. She didn’t want to leave town. She didn’t want to leave Palla. She didn’t. And she could not promise she would kill. “I mean, why do you want me to join you?”

  “Fair q
uestion.” He cocked his head. “Straight talk, all right?”

  “Please.”

  “You have an ability I want on my team.”

  She ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth and got herself settled. The tension in the room was high, but not out of control. There wasn’t anyone itching to start a fight, except maybe Palla, and that was his natural state.

  “The work’s dangerous, I won’t pretend it isn’t. We’re in the middle of a war with magekind who want to go back to the old days of demons should be dead or under control.”

  “Believe me, I get that.”

  “I don’t want Palla pissed off at me for not giving you the hard sell about joining up.” He gave a dazzling grin. “Generous salary. You won’t have to worry about that. We offer a 401K and other investment opportunities, full health benefits, including maternity, childcare, lots of other perks. Housing subsidy, company car, transit pass, gym membership. Maddy can go over the basics with you.”

  “There’s just one problem.”

  The warlord looked thoughtful.

  “You said there’s a war.”

  “I did. There is.”

  “I do not believe violence is ever the answer. I can’t hurt people. I just can’t. I will do anything but kill for you, sir.” She swallowed hard, twisted up so hard her body was rigid. “I can’t live a life where I’m obligated to do that.”

  “Jesus, Palla, what the hell?” Nikodemus put a hand to the center of his chest. “I’m not asking you to give her up.”

  Wallace took her eyes off Nikodemus to look at Palla. Like Nikodemus, he had a hand on the center of his chest. Palla bowed his head and pressed three fingers to his forehead. “Warlord. That is not her gift. Her talent. If it comes to that, I will keep her alive in a fight. I’ll make sure she doesn’t face that choice. I swear it.”