by Nadine Mutas
“As little as possible,” Merle said after a taut silence, “as much as necessary.” She parried Lily’s concerned reproach. “I need him strong enough to find that other demon. For that, he needs to feed. Would you rather I let him loose on others, innocents, maybe?”
“I’d rather we feed him intravenously. You know, maybe chained to a bed.”
Merle couldn’t help giggling at that mental image, and Lily joined her involuntary amusement with a grin.
“Seriously, though.” Lily’s expression sobered. “I’m worried about you. Be careful with him, all right?”
“I’m trying.”
“And let me know how I can help you with all this. You know you won’t get me off your back now, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else.” Merle gave her a small smile. “And speaking of which, there is something you can do.”
“Shoot.”
“Keep collecting info on bluotezzer demons, as much as you can—strengths, weaknesses, habits, whatever you can find. And while you’re at it, please do some research on the binding spell, too. If I’d had more time, I’d have prepared better before unleashing him. I had to rush into this with very basic info, and I have to be careful with what I look up while Rhun is around. The less he knows, the better.”
Lily nodded. “Got it.”
“Another thing—let’s keep the lid on this, okay? Don’t tell anyone about Rhun, not even your mom and least of all Isabel. The last thing I need is for the Elders to get wind of this.”
“Yeah, they won’t be happy to hear you unleashed a demon without their consent.” Lily raised one of her sleek dark eyebrows.
“Exactly. I really don’t want them breathing down my neck.” Merle shuddered. “I have my hands full as it is just dealing with Rhun.”
Lily’s eyes danced. “He looks like more than just a handful.”
“Lil!” Merle gaped at her.
“What? I may not like demons, but I’m not blind!” She leaned in closer, dropping her voice. “Now, this is totally off the record, and I’m saying this as a woman, not a witch, but—he’s like Gorgeous Central! Talk about sinful temptation.”
“I know,” Merle groaned, thumping her forehead against the doorjamb. “Why can’t he be one of those demons with scaly skin and foul breath? Do you have any idea how hard it is to remind myself why I shouldn’t just jump him? I’m a mess of raging hormones!”
“Well,” Lily said, patting her shoulder, “if you ever need a reminder, I’ll be happy to swing by and kick some sense into your butt.”
“Appreciated.”
“That’s what friends are for. All right, so what’s the battle plan from here?”
Merle heaved herself off the doorjamb. “What time is it?”
“Half past five.”
“In the afternoon?” Her voice shook with disbelief.
“Yeah.”
No way. That meant she’d slept almost twelve hours straight, without waking up once. Never, in her entire life, had she slept that long, and especially not that soundly—peacefully. And she’d have probably kept on slumbering if Lily hadn’t barged in. Incredible.
“Everything okay?” Lily’s gaze was scrutinizing.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” More than fine… Merle shook herself and refocused. “Well, we’ll have to wait for sundown, then we can start searching again, when Rhun regains his powers. I don’t know how fast we can track that demon down, so in any case you should keep gathering information. Call me if you find anything significant.”
“You too, all right?”
Merle nodded.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own with Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerously Handsome? Baz could come with you.”
Merle shook her head. “I can take care of myself. Besides, I have a feeling if Basil tags along, he and Rhun will end up at each other’s throats…”
“True.” Lily’s gaze flicked to the closed door. “Speaking of which, let’s check on the guys. It’s awfully quiet in there.”
A sinking feeling settled in Merle’s stomach. “Maybe they’re only exchanging I’ll-kill-you-scowls?”
For a second, they stared at each other. Then they rushed into the room.
Chapter 7
When Rhun came downstairs into the kitchen, Merle was sitting at the cooking island, glaring at him over her bowl of cereal. Ever since that other witch and Blondie—whom he’d successfully stared down in Merle’s room—had left, Rhun was in an exceptionally good mood, and after taking his first shower in twenty years, he was humming under his breath and walking with a bounce in his step. Much to Merle’s annoyance, as he could tell by the look she gave him. He met her glower with his biggest grin and enjoyed the following nervous tic of her eye. Ah, he’d never tire of teasing the hell out of her. It was just too much fun.
She’d showered as well, and had put on fresh clothes, the scent of her laundry detergent mingling with her natural aroma in a special blend that made him want to inhale deeper. Made him want to close the distance between them and taste her, in every possible way.
Hunger, raw and brutal, roared awake inside him. The sun was just now setting, and with every passing minute, with every glimmer of light that faded and died, his innate magic returned more to life, flowed through him like the blood through his veins.
His needs, too, came back with a vengeance.
One by one, his senses sharpened, and so did his awareness of Merle, sitting there, all clean, fresh-smelling and soft, her body underneath her clothes a lush landscape he wanted to explore—and claim. The image of her standing in front of him in her bedroom, her breasts barely concealed by her bra, was still vivid in his mind, and just thinking about it made him rock-hard.
At that moment, he’d been teetering on the brink of losing control. It had been long, so long, since he’d last laid eyes on a sumptuous female body, so long since he’d touched, he’d been about to go bat-shit crazy over that bit of skin exposure in front of him. Like a godsdamn teenage demon overwhelmed by his own dark instincts. Fucking embarrassing.
And that had been with his powers dormant and his senses dulled. Now, though, every part of him that was intrinsically male and demon was hyperaware of the appetizing woman within his reach. Merle’s heartbeat drew him like a beacon, the sweet scent of her blood as it coursed through her veins an intoxicating enticement…
“Rhun.”
He hadn’t been conscious of walking over to where she was sitting, of stopping behind her back and bending down to her throat, until her voice, quiet and uncertain, yanked him out of his trance. He now stilled with his nose in her hair. So soft, so fragrant, so Merle. “What?”
“You’re sniffing at me.” She held her back rigid and didn’t move apart from breathing.
Like prey standing still in shock.
Dark urges clawed beneath his skin, fighting to rise to the surface. With deliberate slowness, lest he snap his own leash, he brushed his lips over the curve of her neck. “I’m hungry.”
Underneath his lips, her pulse picked up speed at the same time as her scent changed. The faint aroma of fear pricked his senses, but stronger yet was another note, one that nearly stripped him of the last of his civility and had his cock harden impossibly further.
“I see you’re looking forward to feeding me,” he whispered in her ear, and then he let his teeth—fangs extending bit by bit—graze the delicate skin over her heartbeat. He wouldn’t bite, not yet. Being considerate, he’d let her finish her own food first. But it was damn hard to restrain the raging desire to break skin and take what he craved.
She swallowed, her throat moving underneath his lips, the sweetest temptation. “I am not looking forward to that.”
She turned her face to the side, toward him. The subtle contact of their cheeks made his power coil inside him, ready to strike, to claim, to slake all of his needs at once, with or without her consent. Her quiet poise saved her as much as himself at that moment. If she’d cringed and backed away from him, he
would have given chase with vicious intent, unable to control his predatory instincts to hunt, seize, and never let go. Something that would have broken him as much her.
“Interesting,” he said, a whisper against her skin, “your scent says different.” Her arousal was a delicious aroma in the air, soothing the darkness inside him.
He watched with rapt fascination as a rosy color flushed her cheek.
“Maybe your sense of smell is confused,” she retorted. “I may have used too much deodorant.”
He laughed in her hair, despite himself, despite the dark hunger gnawing at his self-control, his sanity. Lighthearted amusement spread inside his chest, tamed the violent instincts in a way that astonished him. “No, my little Merle.” He kissed the top of her head. “If there is one fragrance I’ll always pick up, it’s the scent of your arousal.”
She stiffened. “I am not ar—”
“Shush.” Trailing his fingers along her shoulders, he walked around her back to take a seat to her left. “Finish your breakfast.”
He gave her a smoldering look designed to get under her skin, to sensually sneak into well-guarded places and take root. It didn’t miss its mark. When she raised the spoon to her mouth again, her hand trembled ever so lightly. Good.
Reining in his demanding hunger as well as he could, he casually asked, “So, who’s Blondie?”
It took her a good few seconds to understand what—whom—he was talking about. “Basil.” Her voice held an edge of irritation. “His name is Basil.”
“Right. Whatever. Who is he?”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, studying him curiously. “Why is that important to you?”
“I asked you first.”
“You’re being childish.”
“I’m merely trying,” he said, enunciating each word carefully, “to have a nice, civil conversation with you, which you—for whatever unfathomable reason—are trying to sabotage.”
She pointed at him with her spoon. “That is so not true, you devious, tricky—”
“See? Now you’re calling me names and threatening me with silverware. All because I asked you a simple, unassuming question.” He threw his hands in the air. “I rest my case.”
For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to skewer him with the spoon, an inclination he found delightfully charming. She had some real fire underneath that prim and proper attitude she sported most of the time, and he wondered what it would take to infuriate her enough to grab a knife and lunge at him.
Now there was a thought… For a moment he was lost in the mental visualization of a sexy sparring session involving a naked witch with knives and ending in a tangle of limbs and moans of pleasure.
Merle’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. “All right.” Her shrewd eyes sparked with a glint of calculation. “I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.”
He inclined his head to her, impressed by her sense of strategy. “Fair enough.”
She nodded and ate another spoonful of cereal. “Basil is Lily’s twin brother.”
He stopped short. “Lily’s a witch.”
Merle kept on eating.
Confusion made him grind his teeth together. “But Blondie’s a guy.”
“You are,” she said around chewing, “so very perceptive.”
Chuckling at her sarcasm, he processed the information. A male descendant of a witch line was just as unusual as a female born without powers—it appeared Maeve was not the only anomaly in the local witch community. But learning about Surfer Boy’s family affiliations was not at the top of Rhun’s list of priorities right now.
Tapping his fingers on the counter, he watched Merle with an intensity that threatened to erode him from the inside out. “You and Blondie seem to be close.”
She ate another spoonful, regarding him with such coolness he wanted to bite her. “That is not a question. Now it’s my turn.”
He clamped down on the swirling darkness within him, a darkness unlike the one he already knew. “Ask away.”
“What was the nature of your relationship to my grandmother?”
Cocking his head, he gave her a slow, wicked grin. “Why, my little witch, are you afraid you’re related to me?”
She spluttered her mouthful of cereal across the kitchen island. Her face pale with shock, she stared at him. “Oh gods—please tell me I’m not—we’re not—are we?”
She looked so horror-stricken and lost, he almost felt bad for the joke. Almost. “No.” He handed her a napkin. “We’re not. If we were, that would make me a sick bastard, and though I am a bastard—a sneaky one, as you pointed out—I do consider myself basically sane. Besides, my kind is only fertile when mated. I never was. And just so you won’t wrack your delicate mind, your grandmother and I were never intimate. Not even close. She’d have strung me up by my balls if I’d ever even tried to make a move on her.”
After staring at him for a moment, she exhaled, relaxing bit by bit. She cleaned up the cereal mess on the island then studied him again. “That doesn’t answer my initial question.”
He leaned back, weighing his words. “Rowan and I used to work together.”
“What kind of work?”
“Our bargain was for one question. I answered it, and then some.” He pinned her with a look that visibly made her twitch. “Do you want to bargain for more?”
Silence stretched taut between them. She held his gaze. “Okay. Ask.”
“No. I’ll answer your questions, as many as you like, but I want something else in return.”
Her heart skipped a beat. It was loud enough for him to hear. “What?” she whispered.
“When I feed from you,” he said, his voice soft despite his roaring hunger, “you’ll lower your shields.”
The air grew thick with her panic. “No.”
Lowering her mental shields would mean absolute exposure. She’d be open to him on the most visceral level, completely vulnerable. He’d taste her power, her essence, see and feel her without any barriers, the ultimate insight into her heart, her soul. Used with malicious intent, this kind of connection could inflict pain beyond comprehension and leave a trail of destruction in the layers of the mind.
On the other end of that extreme, it would intensify any pleasure felt by a thousandfold—for both parties. Rhun was itching to get her like that, for it would not only be one hell of a thrilling experience, it would also temporarily entwine his essence with hers and make her more likely to give him what he wanted.
He caught her wary gaze and brushed her mind with a sensuous caress. “I won’t hurt you.” Not unless you ask me to…
Emotions flickered across her face, through her aura, among them a shy kind of curiosity, but she shook her head. Her suspicion won. “No,” she repeated, and stood to carry her bowl to the sink.
“Okay,” Rhun said after a moment, watching her closely as she rinsed the bowl.
Her rejection was a minor setback, but one he’d accept. Pushing her on this now would only prove counterproductive. He’d have to move on with care, going slow while gambling for time. The fact he hadn’t been able to locate the other demon the night before was an unforeseen turn now playing into his hands, a real complication he could use for his own benefit.
Truth was, Rhun was in no hurry to find Maeve’s captor—doing so would only get him kicked back into the Shadows, and he’d be damned if he willingly rushed toward that result. So instead of making up an elaborate lie to gain time enough to execute his plan, he could now stall the search with the truth. Ah, the ironic beauty of it.
An unbidden, inexplicable pang of guilt followed at the heels of those thoughts, and he had to suck in air at the sudden tightness in his chest. No. Don’t go there. He couldn’t allow himself to feel sympathetic. He couldn’t deal with that, not now, not ever. Not if he wanted to be free again. I am a demon, after all. Time I started acting like one.
He stood and walked over to Merle, who still had her back turned to him, drying the bowl. Slo
wly, partly so as not to spook her, partly to control himself, he placed his hands on the counter on either side of her, trapping her with her back to his front, in an intimate cage of heat and hunger. She was so deliciously small he could wrap himself around her.
Wait—he’d already done that. He smiled at the memory.
Along with it came another memory—the feel of her silken skin, her soft curves pressed against him, her scent weaving a web of allurement with a devastating effect on his mental state. Not to mention his body.
His hands tightened on the counter, knuckles flashing white.
How she could make him so fucking needy was beyond him. And he hated being needy. Soon, he’d have her soon, and then he could flush her out of his system—by taking her any which way until they both were spent and sweaty. Yep, he couldn’t wait to get her all sticky.
And surely, she only affected him like this because he’d been in the Shadows for so long, because he was now starved for pleasure. That had to be it. There couldn’t be anything more to it.
But even as he repeated that like a mantra, as his power darkened with hunger and familiar lust, underneath it, something even more demanding awoke. Indefinable, new and confusing, it hummed under his skin—a strange kind of dark, disconcerting…tenderness?
He gritted his teeth.
It had started when he’d held her in his arms while she slept, when he’d felt her relax and curl into him with a trust that still rattled him. Then, it had been a fleeting feeling. Now, it threatened to spread, like mist rising, unstoppable, permeating everything in its path.
Muscles locked in a silent fight with himself, he focused on Merle’s oscillating aura. Attuning his own power to hers, he bent down and brushed his lips over her cheek at the same time as he caressed her mind with a stroke of his energy. A non-threatening move, unobtrusive but effective. Her aura flickered, her breath caught.
“This time,” Rhun murmured against the soft skin of her neck, “I won’t have to take as much blood.” He watched as a tiny trail of goose bumps followed the movements of his lips on her skin.
Merle nodded, silent, but her pulse thundered.