Passion Unleashed
Page 12Unquenched desire and irritation at both his arrogance and her own weakness tangled up into a knot of fury.
“Give me the key,” she snapped.
He waggled his brows. “Come to my room and get it.”
“What part of celibate are you unclear on? I will not change my mind. I will never change my mind.” She stepped back so she didn’t have to crane her neck to look at him. “Don’t think you can blackmail me into sleeping with you for the key, because I promise you it won’t happen.”
“I know it won’t happen,” he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips, where he nipped the pad of her finger. “But we can do other things. And I want to do other things. Make no mistake about that. As far as the artifact is concerned, you want it, you let me tag along.”
Outraged by his manipulation, she jerked her hand away. “Fine. You can come with me. But the rest? You couldn’t handle other things with me. Guy like you, settling for heavy petting? Please.”
It was the wrong thing to say, because the erotic light in his eyes became something hotter and more intense… the light of challenge, of battle.
She’d just thrown down the gauntlet, and suddenly she was afraid that of the two of them, she’d be the one to break.
As Wraith watched Serena flee down the hall, his body buzzed like he’d eaten a junkie, only this was way better. This was like the really good shit running through a Wall Street executive or a Hollywood star’s veins. So, yeah, better… and worse. Because he wasn’t going to be able to satisfy his body’s needs. Not yet. What he’d assumed would be a smash and grab with Serena was turning out to be anything but. Although she sure as hell seemed to be affected by the incubus f**k-me pheromones that came standard-issue in his species, he had a feeling the poison was affecting their potency. Which sucked
On the other hand, the toxin was also allowing him to get turned on without feeling the irreversible, driving need to have sex or suffer, which was always a concern for his breed. Seminus demons couldn’t relieve their lust by their own hand, and once they were aroused, their lust had to be slaked, or they’d suffer intense agony or even death.
Gods, she had fire. Fire and fight and she might very well be his match in every way. But his life was on the line, and he was going to fight until he won. Her resolve was strong, but with the Grim Reaper—or one of his griminions—on his heels, Wraith’s resolve was just as strong. And right now, he had to make sure she believed he could be with her because he wanted to be with her, not because he wanted to pop her cherry.
Still, it was becoming clear that being sweet and charming wasn’t going to work, not only because it just wasn’t him, but because she didn’t believe he was a choir boy. He’d have to be himself as much as possible if he wanted to have a shot in hell of seducing her.
He just had to get through this without letting himself get attached, which shouldn’t be a problem. The ability to care about anyone or anything had been tortured out of him long ago.
He continued to watch Serena as she let herself into her room. Wraith had no idea what was going through her head, but he knew what was pinging around in his. He’d enjoyed that kiss, and he wanted to kiss her again. He tried to tell himself the desire to do so came from necessity, the need to seduce her, but if that was true, why did his breath come a little faster and hotter in his throat when she turned to glare at him one last time?
He held her gaze, and even across the distance she got the message, the flare of her eyes giving her away as she caught his silent declaration of intent. Tomorrow, she was his.
The Feast Moon was out tonight. The new moon always brought out the crazies of the underworld. The deaths. It would be even worse now that Army intel had determined that a battle was coming, a confrontation between good and evil that threatened every human life on the planet
Kynan Morgan had always been sensitive to the tides of the night, and the vibration in his blood told him this was going to be a bad one. His stomach churned as he stepped out of his car in Underworld General’s underground parking lot, knowing the ER would soon fill up.
He missed the rush of treating trauma patients, of working while hopped up on adrenaline to save a life, and not for the first time he wondered why he’d spent the last ten months in an Army facility getting poked and prodded when he could have been back with The Aegis, battling demons and then patching up Guardians.
Or he could have been back here, working in a demon hospital to save their lives.
Either way, he was no longer conflicted by his loyalties to humans and demons. He was working both sides, because neither was wholly good or bad, and he’d discovered that the good on both sides wanted the same thing: peace.
He threaded his way through the vehicles, stopping short as Gem exited the hospital through the sliding doors. His heart did a flip and settled into a rapid-fire machine gun rhythm.
She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. She’d changed her hair—still black and falling to her shoulder blades, but she’d replaced the blue streaks with a hot pink that suited her.
She walked toward her red Mustang, keys twirling on her finger. He’d planned to find her after he spoke with Eidolon, but what the hell. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but snapped it shut when a huge male approached her. Where had he come from? His short, dark hair reminded him of Eidolon, and his head-to-toe black leather, including gloves, brought Shade to mind. The deadly aura was pure Wraith.
He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Gem smiled, her teeth flashing white against the contrast of her black lipstick. He’d kissed that mouth, had wanted to do a lot more before they were interrupted in her apartment by the U.S. Army’s paranormal unit, the Ranger-X Regiment. They’d barely given him a chance to say good-bye.
That had been nearly a year ago. Last week he decided he’d had enough. The R-XR had determined that he was descended from a fallen angel, and they were pretty sure he was part of a prophecy, but they’d stalled out.
What a bunch of bullshit. Was it too much to ask that a prophecy actually make sense?
He’d left the R-XR with two goals: getting Gem back, and being reinstated as a Regent in The Aegis.
The Aegis thing hadn’t gone well—they hadn’t been happy that he’d walked away from the organization after his wife died, and worse, he’d left The Aegis to work in a demon hospital. But with trouble looming—not to mention his distant fallen-angel relative and link to a prophecy—they’d been willing to give him another chance.
If he’d use his demon connections to find out all he could about what was brewing in the underworld.
Basically, they wanted him to spy for them.
So no, The Aegis thing hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d have liked. But there was still hope with Gem.
He started toward her, stumbled to a halt when the guy took her hand and led her to his Hummer.
Feeling as if he’d been run over by a tank, he watched helplessly as the a**hole held the door open for her, his hand brushing casually over her butt as though it had been an accident. Accident, my ass. She actually grinned at him. Grinned.
Tell her not to wait. The message he’d given Runa to relay to Gem came roaring back. When the R-XR had taken him, he hadn’t known when, or if, he would return, and he’d wanted Gem to be happy.
Maybe not that happy.
The urge to pound Mr. Gropey Hands into a pulp even Eidolon couldn’t heal made him twitch. And wouldn’t that just impress the hell out of Gem. Hey, babe, I want you so bad I’ll kill anyone who comes near you, even though I cut you free.
Yep, he could say “Restraining Order.”
Things were about to get chaotic. Kynan would come back tomorrow to talk to the Sem boys, Tayla, and Gem. Gem, especially, because this wasn’t over, not by a long shot.
Seven
The sound of knocking woke Serena at three a.m. Groggy, she climbed out of bed and stumbled to the door. A sense of foreboding shivered across her flesh. She knew she shouldn’t open up, but for some reason she couldn’t stop herself.
Josh filled the doorway, his facial tattoo shifting like waves on lake water, eyes glowing gold, and it struck her that she wasn’t awake. This was a dream. A dream where the sexiest man she’d ever seen, the sexiest man she’d ever kissed, was staring at her as if he was a lion and she was an antelope. Her first thought was that, like an antelope, she should run for her life. Her second thought was that she wanted to get caught.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice rumbling through her in a muscle-deep caress.
It didn’t occur to her to argue. Not when this was something she’d waited for all her life, had hoped for, had daydreamed about… and now it was coming true. Well, it was coming true in her dream, which was the only safe place for it to happen.
Still, as he approached, she wrapped her arms around herself and backed up, realizing too late that he was herding her.
Toward the bed.
“Josh—”
“Wraith. In your dreams, you will call me Wraith.” He stripped off his T-shirt, and oh, yes, she’d call him anything he wanted as long as he kept undressing. His chest was smooth, the thick pads of muscle rolling beneath tan skin. And his abs, dear Lord, his abs… his eight-pack could be cut from fine Egyptian granite.
The backs of her knees hit the bed, and she sat down awkwardly. When she looked down at herself, she sucked air. Gone were her shorts and tank top. Instead, she wore a sexy black and crimson teddy, garters with black stockings, and no panties. She tried to cover up, but Josh—Wraith—whatever—tumbled her back on the bed and raised her hands above her head. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">