by Kresley Cole
"You can't be certain that she's yours. And even if she is, you have to think of your responsibilities. The last time the kingdom depended on you…" He trailed off. "Now you have to do what's right."
At the reminder of his failures, the guilt emerged again, and Cade nudged Holly away from him. She shot upright, seeming embarrassed that she'd still been holding on to him.
"No need for me to drive back to the house, then," Rydstrom said. "Just meet me at the gas station north of the lake at eleven o'clock—we'll start from there."
"I'll be there at eleven."
After hanging up with Rydstrom, Cade called Rök—his second-in-command and flatmate. In Demonish, Cade told him, "Tried to ring you for backup earlier. Just before I stormed the Demonaeus lair all by my lonesome."
"Did you?" Rök asked in a bored tone. "I was getting a leg over."
"When are you not? Need you back to the house."
"What's doing?" Rök asked, then shushed a female voice murmuring, "Come back to bed."
Cade quickly relayed the developments, ending with: "Just be there in ten minutes."
Once he'd hung up, Cade glanced over at Holly, staring dazedly out the window frame. Her hair had begun drying in unruly reddish-blond curls. He'd been waiting more than a year to see her hair freed from that tight bun she always wore and had imagined it loose a thousand times.
He hadn't thought it'd be curly. She must hate that—seeing it as another aspect of her life she couldn't control.
She looked so lost, and his hand fisted as he stopped himself from touching her again. But he had to resist. It wouldn't do for Cade to get even more attached to her.
All these months watching, he'd become increasingly fascinated with her. While sitting atop the roof of the building neighboring hers, he'd observed her strictly regimented day-to-day activities. Among them: an hour for swimming laps in her private rooftop pool, three hours a day for her doctoral work, an hour in the morning and another at night to clean her already spotless loft.
In the beginning, Cade had scratched his head at the odd little mortal's repetitive behavior and obsessive cleaning. Now he just shrugged. It was part of what made Holly unique.
On campus, he'd seen her sitting lost in thought, running her strand of pearls against her lips or tapping away at her laptop in bursts of furious inspiration.
And Cade had watched her with her boyfriend, feeling a savage thrill every time she'd denied her lips to that tosser, instead turning to give him a cheek. That male had never spent the night, and she'd never stayed with him.
Which was why the human still lived.
Cade had thought he had learned so much about her, but he hadn't known she would be so brave. Not many females could blindly stick a foot in a pool of water when there were snakes about—much less take down a dozen demons.
But this silence from her made him uneasy. For all her quirks, she wasn't a shy one, nor was she hesitant to speak her mind. "You, uh, got more questions?"
Without hesitation, she asked, "Can this change in me be undone?"
He frowned. "What would you want that for? You're quick to give up immortality." Granted, her introduction to the Lore had been harsh, but still…
"I don't want to be like this. I want to go back to how I was."
As a mercenary, his primary job was to identify what someone desired. Then he had to convince the client of two things.
That he could get it for them. And that he was the only one who could get it for them.
Holly had just given him the key to her. Which was good, because he had to tell her something that would ensure her cooperation, something other than the truth: To score a weapon, I have to give you to an evil sorcerer who will likely ensorcell you to sleep with him. Once you've delivered a child of ultimate evil for him, he may let you go.
"There might be a way to reverse the change." Of course, there was absolutely no way to reverse the change.
She gazed over at him with hope in her eyes. If he were less of a bastard, that look would really bother him. As it was, he hardly noted it. Hardly at all.
"How? How's it possible?"
"Listen, I don't want to speak out of turn and overpromise you," he said. "Right now I'm going back to my place to pick up supplies before we leave town; then we're going to meet my brother, who'll know more about all this. Just bear with me till then, and we'll figure out a way to make everyone happy."
At length, she nodded. "I have to go by my loft and pick up some clothes and things—"
"No way. They'll be watching your place."
"But I need my…my medications. They were in my shoulder bag."
"What kind of meds?" he asked, though he knew about her disorder, had been studying it. He just wanted to see if she'd admit to it.
She raised her chin. "They're for OCD. Obsessive—"
"—compulsive disorder. I've heard of it." She was going to love his place.
"So you understand why I have to get them."
"Will you die without those pills? Because you sure as shite will die to get them. Your building is going to be crawling with assassins."
Her brows drew together. "You said building. How did you know I don't live in a house? And how did you know where to find me tonight?"
"We've been doing background on you. I was trailing you tonight and saw them take you."
"Tell me—who hired you to protect me?"
This was going to get sticky if she pressed. "Don't know exactly. I just got the job details instructing me to keep you safe and the payment scale. Anything else is of no matter to me."
She was quiet for a moment. "Background on me?" she finally asked. "You mean spying."
"I'm not apologizing for it—not when the outcome was that I saved your life."
"And what did you find out about me?"
How to answer her? Every time he thought he had Holly figured out, she surprised him. Over the last several months, he'd deemed her a math geek, a campus feminist, a tease, a tree hugger, and a closet sexpot.
He'd eventually figured out why he could never get a handle on what she was like—because she didn't have any kind of handle on herself. Even she didn't know who she was.
"You're twenty-six, an only child, adopted," he finally said. "Your adoptive parents both died of natural causes in the last two years. They left you a fortune…." He slanted a glance at her.
Her face held no reaction. "Go on."
"You've got two master's degrees under your belt, and you're about to complete your PhD in mathematics." You've got the confidence of a woman who knows she's smart, and that's arousing as hell.
"You like to swim." Your body in even your modest swimsuit puts this demon to his knees.
"You've got a steady boyfriend, also in the PhD program." Tim's a ponce loser and a hypochondriac.
"You teach football players fun with numbers or something." With every sexual comment those jocks make about you, they routinely tempt death by demon bite….
"You like things to be…clean." You like blues rock and prepackaged foods.
"All true," she said. "And yet I know nothing about you except that you're a demon mercenary who has at least one brother."
He stifled a harsh laugh. That's all there is to know about me, he thought bitterly, but he said, "That's probably good. The less you know, the better."
6
Long moments after he hung up the phone with Cade, Rydstrom was still uneasy.
This is bad.
Groot's emissary had insisted on meeting three hundred miles from the city, and Rydstrom was still more than half an hour from the gas station where he would join up with Cade.
He accelerated even more, his Mercedes McLaren flying along an old ribbon of road, built up levee-style through the bayou. He was cruising at an easy hundred and forty miles per hour—so smoothly that the car seemed bored and sullenly quiet.
Rydstrom had to get to his brother before he did something impulsive. He didn't think even Cade comprehended how muc
h he wanted that female.
This is bloody bad. Because he wasn't certain that Cade wouldn't just run off with Holly now that he could have her.
Did Rydstrom suspect the female was Cade's mate? Yes. But clearly, it wasn't meant to be.
Before, she wasn't attainable because of her mortality.
Now she would be the difference between Rydstrom reclaiming his kingdom or not.
Reclaiming Rothkalina… His heart beat faster at the idea of liberating his country, working to see his people prosper for the first time in a millennium.
Omort had been brutal to them, any rebellions crushed, the offenders sadistically punished.
But right now, their freedom was resting in…Cade's hands. Which was a tenuous position to be in.
Cade frustrated the hell out of him. Rydstrom was a male who worshipped reason, the rare rage demon who never lost his temper. Except with Cade—who knew how to push his buttons like no one else. And in return, Rydstrom was hard on him. Some said too hard.
Yet after every one of their infamous fistfights, just when Rydstrom was ready to part ways permanently, he'd remember his brother as a towheaded pup of seven, still with his baby horns, following him around, hero-worshipping him. Rydstrom would feel some flicker of hope that Cade could still pull back from the brink and make something meaningful of his life.
But if he didn't do the right thing now, that hope would be forever finished.
Recalling the day Cade had first seen Holly, Rydstrom increased his speed….
A little less than a year ago, Cade had taken on a job to retrieve a highborn demon's son from the Tulane campus. The son wasn't merely experimenting at passing as a human. The young male had actually been living the lifestyle, cutting off his horns, filing his fangs down, refusing to teleport.
The horrified parents wanted him brought home, without the "shameful secret" getting out to their friends and business associates.
Cade hadn't agreed with the parents' view—one of his mottos was To each his own. However, his overriding outlook was more along the lines of Another day, another dollar. The job had won out.
Rydstrom had accompanied him to the campus to make sure the extraction went smoothly. On the way to the son's dorm, they'd passed an auditorium with a sign announcing Mathematics Awards Today!
Cade had been amused, ready to ridicule. "Geeks on patrol, yeah?"
Though he'd been schooled in the basics of writing, mathematics, and languages, Cade still had a chip on his shoulder that he'd never been educated like other royals because he'd been fostered out. For him, there'd been no higher learning in subjects like philosophy, astronomy, or literature. And even after all these centuries, he felt lacking.
Over the years, Rydstrom had often found books on subjects like those among Cade's possessions. His brother, the cutthroat mercenary, was secretly educating himself….
Then Cade had seen Holly Ashwin up onstage receiving a first-place math award. "Now, that's a fine bit of grumble and grunt, yeah?" Rydstrom could swear that Cade made his lower-class accent even lower just to screw with him.
At the time, he hadn't understood Cade's attraction. The girl was pretty, no doubt of it, but she'd been buttoned-up, with glasses, no makeup, and her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She'd been brimming with a quiet confidence and was obviously smart—definitely not like Cade's typical fare of brazen and empty-headed.
"Come on, Cade, it's not as if we blend in," Rydstrom had said. Both of them stood over six and a half feet tall and wore hats.
But Cade had waited until the crowd adjourned. When she'd exited the auditorium, he'd called to her, "Come here, little bit. Got a question about the beauty pageant you just dominated."
She'd turned to him with her eyes narrowed, pushing up her glasses with the tip of her forefinger.
Rydstrom had leaned against the corner of the building, watching in grim fascination, like a bystander who saw the train coming and knew the track had been blown out ahead.
Cade's easy grin had charmed female after female, and he no doubt expected this one to heed him. Instead, she'd stood her ground and looked down her nose at him. "Can I help you?"
Flummoxed, Cade had crossed the distance to her as if helpless not to. "Ah, yeah. What's, uh, doing in there?"
She'd repeated, "What's doing?"
Taken off guard because she wasn't receptive to his flirting, Cade had stared, flushing at his own stammering attempts to talk to her. At one point, he'd blatantly peered around her to check out her figure again as if he couldn't help himself.
Just as Cade had reached forward, looking for all the world like he intended to undo her hair, and she'd looked as if she'd slap him soundly for it, Rydstrom had broken up the interaction.
Without a word, the girl had pivoted on her heel and started away.
As Rydstrom dragged him in the other direction, Cade had looked back over his shoulder. In a crushed tone, he'd said, "She didn't glance back at me. Not once."
In the months to come, Cade had discovered everything there was to know about her. Just last week, Rydstrom had caught him kicked back on a downtown roof with a flask of demon brew, spying on her swimming. Even at a critical time like this.
Yes, she was likely the only female he could ever be whole with, have offspring with, know real happiness with, but Rydstrom still couldn't understand it. The kingdom always came first.
He would die for his people. Why wouldn't Cade—
Eyes stared back at him in the headlights. Not an animal, a woman.
He slammed on the brakes and swerved, the McLaren skidding out of control. Just when he was about to right the vehicle, a bridge abutment seemed to appear from nowhere; he careened into it.
When he'd finally stopped moving, he grasped his head, shaking off dizziness.
Staggering out to survey the damage, he crunched over cement littered with glass, chunks of ruptured tire, and even bits of the frame.
At the sight, he whistled in a breath. Totaled. The right side of his car was completely shaved off. So where is the woman?
Flashes of her arose in his mind—eyes wide with fear, long red hair whipping as he'd just missed her.
He lumbered back in the direction he'd come. "Is someone here?" he called. "Are you hurt?"
No answer. The closest gas station was at least twenty-five miles away. He fished out his cell phone from his jacket.
Out of area, the screen read. "Bugger me."
When he glanced back up, he caught sight of her farther along this deserted stretch of road, standing alone.
What the hell is she doing all the way out here by herself?
Their eyes met. At that moment, he caught her sultry, feminine scent.
The night began to feel dreamlike, surreal.
He started toward her, not bothering to retrieve his hat—with her otherworldly beauty, he could tell she was definitely one of the Lore.
Shining red hair curled down to her waist. As he neared, he saw that her eyes were dark as night. A gown of the palest blue silk clung to her lush curves. When he spied the outline of her hardened nipples, he ran a hand over his mouth.
He was fifteen hundred years old. Had he ever been so instantly and fiercely attracted to a female?
She began sauntering along the road away from him.
"No, wait! Are you all right?"
She turned to him but continued to step back.
"I won't hurt you," he called, following. "Do you have a car out here?"
"I need your help," she said, her voice throaty.
"Of course." What would she think of his battle-scarred face up close? He hadn't cared much in the past, but with her…the idea of seeing her disgust made him hesitate. Until she turned and skipped down an embankment—farther away from him.
He hastened after her. "Do you live near here?"
"Need your help," she said once more, ducking behind a willow by the water's edge.
He joined her beneath the tree. "I have to get back to the city, but
then I can come back to help you." And get all your information so I can return for you once my duties are done.
As he gazed down at her face, he began to feel dizzy once more, on edge even. His reaction to her seemed too powerful, her looks too alluring to be real. She had high cheekbones and the most flawless pale skin he'd ever seen. Her pink lips were plump and glistening.
Just when he began to draw back, she said, "Help me now." Grasping his hand in her two small ones, she kissed his palm with those smiling lips, then placed it over one of her full breasts.
Every muscle in his body tightened with want. Unable to stop himself, he kneaded her flesh with a low groan. The promise of pleasure blazed from her mesmerizing eyes, and he found himself lowering his defenses.
"This is what I need," she murmured in a siren's voice, arching to his hand.
"And the gods know that I want to give it to you, right after I've settled—"
"I need it"—she took his other hand and placed it high on her inner thigh—"now."
Rydstrom tried to shake himself. He had responsibilities. But I've been so long without a woman.
He hissed out a breath when she raised her hands to his horns, boldly grasping them to tug him down to her. "Kiss me, demon."
When a female steered a demon male like this…Rydstrom shuddered from the savage thrill, bowing his head as she bade him to with her sexual grip. Their lips met, and lust rocked him.
He felt a connection with her. Maybe even the connection.
With that thought in mind, he began taking her mouth hard. She was experienced, urging him on, meeting every thrust of his tongue, teasing him until his hands landed on her soft ass to rock her against his shaft.
Still, he somehow broke away from her. "I…can't do this now. I have to meet someone. Much rides on this."
"Make love to me," she whispered, now sidling closer to him. "Here. Under this tree, in the moonlight. I'm aching for you."
His horns were straightening, his cock throbbing. He could scarcely withstand the need to be inside her luscious body.
But he had to. The kingdom's needs always come before the king's. "No. I have obligations," he bit out, hating those obligations for the first time. Resenting them.