Black Widow Demon (29 page)

He hunched forward on the fallen log, his forearms on his thighs, hands loosely clasped between his knees. He tilted his head, his eyes meeting hers. He reached out and took one of her curls and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, but he did not let his hand touch her face.

“This amulet I’m wearing was your mother’s,” he said. “You should have it back.” He slipped it off and tried to pass it to her.

She did not take it from him. Instead, she cupped his hand in both of hers and folded his fingers closed around it. Then she kissed the heel of his palm. “As long as you’re with me, you’re in danger from demons,” she said. “I want you to wear this and be safe.”

He looked as if he had something more to say but changed his mind with a shake of his head. He stared at the amulet in his hand for a long time. Then, he replaced the chain around his neck.

“I don’t think you understand the value of the gift,” he said.

She did not want to think about that. “I don’t want anyone else to wear it. It’s yours now.”

He leaned closer to press his lips to her forehead. “You have no idea how much I wish things were different for us.”

She curled her fists in the front of his coat and drew him to her so that she could feather kisses along the length of his jaw, then his throat to his open collar where the amulet nestled.

“Thank you,” she said.

He did not move away, but watched her with a quiet hunger that caught her breath. “For what?”

“For making me feel desirable and not something to be afraid of or repulsed by.” She kissed his lips, very gently. “No one else has ever made me feel that way. I wish things were different, too. If they were I would go after what I want, and I wouldn’t worry about what is best for either of us. Because what I want is you.”

The craving in his eyes did not dissipate, but he turned back to the fire and their now-burning dinner.

“You’re too quick to want,” he said. “The dangers are greater than you think.”

She knew that physical danger from the outside world did not trouble him. It was the threat she posed to his peace of mind that had him draw away from her. He had learned to care for very little else in his life so that its loss would not matter so much.

She might be too quick, but he was too cautious. Blade wanted to be with her. For some reason he would not explain, he refused to acknowledge it. He should seize what the present offered him because this was what shaped the future—the present. Not the past.

To her, the future was filled with light, not darkness. And right now, in the present, they were together.

…

The sound of water crashing against a shore awoke Blade from a dream.

No. He frowned. It was not a dream but a place. He could smell the air and feel the wind. The sky above was a deep, animated red, filtered through a gentle blue-green light that gave it a distinct purple cast. A vast and seemingly endless expanse of water stretched as far as he could see. White-capped waves crested, curled, and broke against a beach of aqua sand.

Raven approached him, a greeting in her luminous blue eyes. A sheer, white gown bared the golden skin of her arms and throat and twisted around her hips and thighs as she moved, revealing far more than it hid. The odd lighting of the sky caught the coppery-red streaks in her black hair so that they flared like strips of heated metal.

Possessiveness seized him.

She stretched out her fingers to rest on his arm, her touch warm and real.

“How did you manage this?” He swept a hand around them, torn between watching the beauty of her face and staring at the undulating sea.

“I didn’t. This came from your thoughts, not mine.” She lifted his amulet and held it in her palm as she gazed up at him. “This is what my mother spoke of, why there was no fear in her when she did. It’s another tiny piece of the boundary. Only an immortal she welcomed could come here.”

He had not known such thoughts dwelled in him. He had never seen the sea before but had read of it, a long time ago, and except for the boundary sky, this was indeed how he would envision it.

And how he envisioned Raven—so beautiful, it made his chest ache with longing.

But this place was induced by a demon’s amulet, therefore unnatural, and he did not trust it. He did not care that it picked so easily through his intimate thoughts. They had been pillaged enough for one day.

He took her hand in one of his, the other hovering near a knife tucked in his trousers as he scanned the area around them, unable to believe there was no danger to either of them here. The mortal world held dangers too, but at least in a way he understood and could deal with.

“This place is for demons,” he said.

She stepped into the crook of his arm, drawing it around her so that she was pressed tight against him. The fresh, clean scent of her skin and hair filled his lungs and all he could think of was her.

“Not all demons. Only those you wish to be here. For once,” she said, “can’t you allow yourself to indulge in what you desire without worrying about what might or might not happen if you do?”

He could think of nothing he would like to do more, yet still, he hesitated.

Her eyes softening, she stood on her toes and tipped her head to kiss the underside of his jaw. “We walk here together, Blade.”

He no longer doubted that the amulet he wore was meant for him, that it was more than just a “trinket.” And that he belonged to her. It would not work for them in this way, as it had for her parents, otherwise. It had been crafted by a demon for the woman it claimed, and she had accepted it. Their daughter had given it to him. The possibility that Raven had not yet realized the implications of it was what filled him with a terror unlike anything he had ever known. She could do so much better than him. She did not have to be with him forever.

But right now, she was.

He slid his palms up the length of her arms, entranced by the feel of her smooth, warm skin, delicate and feminine. She trembled beneath his touch, her eyelids drooping so that sooty lashes brushed her cheeks. Her hands came to rest on his bare torso.

He discovered he was naked. He hooked his fingers beneath the fabric of her dress and eased it off her shoulders so that it pooled on the sand at her dainty toes. He stroked a knuckle from her neck to the tip of one rosy-tipped breast, then followed its path with his mouth. He drew her nipple into his mouth, licking the taut crescent. With a soft cry of pleasure she took his head in her hands and buried her fingers in his hair, arching against him. He gathered her close, his hands on her bare hips, so her stomach stroked his erection. She took him in her fingers, sliding them gently up and down his sensitive shaft until he groaned out loud with need. She pressed her lips to his chest, trailing kisses to his navel, then lower. She faltered, looked at him with a question in her eyes, and he cupped her chin in his palm.

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said.

She smiled at him, holding his gaze, and the tip of her pink tongue flitted out to touch him. His erection jerked in response.

“I do,” she said, and ran her tongue the length of him. She licked the drop of fluid on his tip and closed her eyes as she drew him into her mouth.

Blade held her head in his hands, trying hard to maintain control as she explored the taste and feel of him, until he could stand it no longer. He bent forward, nudging her gently so that she lay on her back in the warm sand while he rested on his palms above her.

Her blue eyes were glowing, filled with that beautiful diamond fire. Her skin glistened in the light, and he dragged one palm over her breast, along her flat stomach, until he reached the soft mound of hair between her thighs. With one finger, he stroked the slickened flesh beneath it until she cried out for him, her back arching and her hands grasping eagerly at his hips, trying to draw him to her.

He guided his erection to her opening, and with a single thrust, they were joined. Her hips rose and fell, urging him deeper and faster.

“Please, Blade.”

The expression of desire in her glowing eyes as she watched him move inside her brought him very close to the edge. He wanted to see her face when she came. Tiny ripples began, building in intensity as she tightened around him, making him shudder in anticipation. She wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out with pleasure, the spasms of her inner warmth impossible for him to resist. He groaned as he came with her.

The sounds of the sea’s waves and their heavy breathing slowly eased into his awareness. Blade ran a finger along her ribs to her thigh, making her laugh and squirm beneath him, and he tried to recall if he had ever been as happy as he was when he was with her.

She was right. He should enjoy these moments without worrying over what the future might bring. He nuzzled her hair aside and kissed the soft curve of her neck. Whether or not she chose to be his, he would always be hers. He would do his best to be worthy of her for as long as she needed him. And when she did not, he’d remember that even the goddesses believed he was unworthy of her and be man enough to walk away.

Justice approached Siege shortly before breakfast, when daylight had not yet made its appearance.

“There’s something you need to see,” he said.

Siege propped the six-foot staff he’d been wielding against the wall of the indoor training room. He had stripped to the waist, revealing the countless battle scars on his chest, back, and shoulders. A fine sheen of sweat dampened his leathered skin. He had very little in terms of extra weight.

Too thin
, Justice decided.
But still dangerous.

“What is it?” The assassin leader’s sharp tone indicated he was not pleased with the interruption to his morning exercise.

But Justice had purposely timed it to coincide with the end of the session, ensuring Siege would be tired. “One of your younger recruits left through the posterns a short while ago. He had the goddess with him. I thought you might not want anyone else to know of it.”

“Why can no one in this place keep track of the whereabouts of its residents anymore?” Siege said, but to himself, not expecting any answer. He scowled as he slid his shirt over his head, then glared at Justice. “I blame you for bringing a woman here. You’re the one who should be punished. Since I can’t do that, it will have to be the one who was too weak to resist her. He’ll need to be whipped.” Siege started for the door. “We’ll find them, and when we do, I want her locked up and under triple guard.”

He stopped at the guardhouse and summoned the young attendant to him.

“Did you see anyone leave here this morning?” Siege asked.

The guard looked uneasy. He did not meet his eyes. “Two,” he said. “A man and a woman.”

Justice was glad he had thought to have Willow approach one of the recruits and lure him away with her rather than simply invent the tale. Siege trusted him even less than he had suspected.

“Discuss this with no one,” Siege said to the guard. “No one else enters or leaves here again today unless it’s approved by me. Do you understand me?”

The guard swallowed, then nodded. The old man had a reputation for little patience with failure.

They trudged across a landscape scraped almost bare of the remnants of the first snowfall. The trail grew increasingly difficult to follow but not impossible. Willow had obeyed his instructions, and every so often, left a clear and obvious footprint.

Justice knew it was the promise of bloodshed, and not any sense of allegiance, that motivated her to obey him. Siege had been correct in his assessment of her. He wondered how the young assassin recruit would fare against her.

He also wondered if she would follow through with his plan. So far, she had done as he instructed.

It took them almost half an hour to reach the clearing, a small area off the main mountain road, where he had told Willow to wait. By the time they reached it Siege was having difficulty maintaining the pace Justice had set, the old man’s breath coming in high whistles, but he remained too stubborn to ask for a rest.

They discovered the recruit, already dead. Willow was nowhere to be seen.

Siege knelt by the wide-eyed, partially clothed body and felt for a pulse. The grim set of his mouth suggested he did not find one. His chest rose and fell as if he had difficulty containing his anger.

“You are responsible for this,” he said to Justice, his voice crackling.

“How?” Justice demanded. “One of your young men comes out here alone with a woman, who by your own orders was supposed to remain in confinement, and this is my fault?”

The old man stood, swaying unsteadily on his feet. “She’s more dangerous than you led me to believe.”

Justice caught a glimpse of calico in the gambel oak circling the clearing. “You have no idea how dangerous she really can be,” he said.

She came out of hiding, blue fire leaping from her hands. Fury twisted Siege’s face, then understanding. He did not react as Justice anticipated, but went for Justice’s throat.

The attack surprised Justice, and he stumbled on a slick patch of frozen grass. The knife Siege had slipped from one sleeve narrowly missed his jugular, catching the edge of his ear instead. If the old man had not already been tired, and restricted by a bad heart, Justice knew he would be dead now. It angered him to think that an old man, no matter how skilled, had very nearly bested him, and that the danger from him had not yet passed.

Morning light glinted off the serrated knife still steady in Siege’s gnarled fingers. “I may die today,” Siege said, “but I won’t die alone.”

The old man had his back to Willow. Past him, Justice watched her twist the flames into a tight ball. She threw it so that it slammed between Siege’s shoulders, and he burst into fire, immolating from head to toe. The knife dropped from his hand, and within seconds, all that remained was a smoking pile of ash and charred bone.