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Authors: Robyn Bachar

Blood, Smoke and Mirrors (2010) (28 page)

BOOK: Blood, Smoke and Mirrors (2010)

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That stopped her--almost. Stifling a gasp, she pushed out of his arms. His eyes blazed red gold in the light reflecting from the torches and his expression was one of faint surprise, as though her actions startled him, as though he hadn't been expecting her to show even this much resistance.

Why shouldn't she resist? He was The Unknown personified--so much older, worldly, cultured...different. So very unexpected.

On the other hand, why
would
she resist? Wasn't it for exactly this reason she'd left the no-name town she'd grown up in, vowing to put her past, with all its unhappiness, behind her? Isn't this why she'd come to the city--why she'd come here tonight, to this very house--to experience life, to taste freedom, to embrace the unknown?

"All right. I'll stay." Smiling, she melted back into his embrace and lifted her face for his kiss. It was even headier this time around, darker somehow. Definitely intoxicating. It made her head spin and her eyes grow heavy. When her knees gave way he lifted her into his arms, holding her lightly, as though she weighed nothing at all.

"Just so you know," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, as he carried her back toward the house, "I wasn't offering you a choice."

A choice of what
, she wondered, lazily. But, nestled safely in his arms, she didn't care to pursue it.

She did know one moment of anxiety, however, when he stopped in the hallway to speak to Armand. There was something in the way the other man looked at her. The predatory gleam in his eyes, the subtle flaring of his nostrils, sent shivers running down her spine and had her closing her eyes again, more tightly than before. Had her pressing her face into the silk of Conrad's shirt, curling instinctively closer to him. Like the rabbits she'd once watched in the fields back home, hunkering down on the ground when a hawk passed overhead.

When they started up the stairs leading to the mansion's upper floors she roused herself enough to ask, "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to my room." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched her, as though awaiting her reaction.

She blinked in surprise. "Your room? Do you live here?"

"I do," he replied, his smile even more evident. "I own this house. This happening scene into which you've stumbled belongs to me. And, you, my sweet, little uninvited one, are about to pay the penalty for trespassing."

"Things too terrible to mention," she murmured, trying to think back to what they'd said earlier, causing Conrad to almost miss a step.

His eyebrows rose as he stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "I sincerely hope not. Is that how it seems to you?"

Yawning, she closed her eyes and nestled closer. "No.
You
said that.
I
said it was like a dream."

The most damaged heart can fly with the right pair of wings.

Everlong

Madelyn's life is far from fairytale perfect. She is second in line for the throne of a corrupt, brutal monarchy. Or at least she was until her dark guardian sacrificed his life to hide her safely in a realm of infinite possibilities.

For years she's lived among a colony of escaped slaves as her guardian's widow. Even in this simple life, though, nothing is as it seems. Her hero kept a secret--a younger brother named Clayton Delaney. Warrior, winged demon...and the man who now wants to lay claim to her heart.

No longer cast in his brother's shadow, Clayton meets all obstacles head on, including one named Maddie. His infatuation with her reaches the breaking point when she undergoes a royal rite of passage, going into heat and pushing them both over the edge.

Just as Maddie learns that some risks are worth taking, she discovers that her guardian may be alive. And she's forced to make a choice between the man she'd thought she loved, and the demon willing to lend her his wings.

Warning: This book contains virginal angst, a hero who's too nice for his own good, wings, claws, and convenient use of glamour. It contains heartbreaking loss, conversation with a woodland creature, and sweet, sweet demon loving.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Everlong:

Pushing up the trail harder than I should have, I almost missed the turn guiding me up the final incline to where the landscape dropped away before me. Trees and rocks jutted up off to my left and right, but ahead lay nothing. My legs ached from the effort of climbing to Emasen's cliff edge, but the view made the burn worthwhile.

Exhausted, I shrugged out of my backpack, letting it slide down my arms to land with a soft thud on the compacted earth. Sweat stung my eyes. Perspiration beaded on my skin, struggling to squeeze through the coating of waterproof sunscreen Emma had made me apply before allowing me to leave the house.

I walked to the edge of the precipice and stood with the toes of my sneakers hanging over the sheer rock face of the cliff. My shoulders tensed, air whooshed into my lungs as I rolled to the balls of my feet, preparing for the impossibility of flight.

"Step back from the ledge," Clayton's soft voice coaxed from behind me.

"Clayton," I groaned. "I wasn't really going to jump." I pointed towards my back. "No wings, remember?" As if either of us could forget.

I twisted abruptly, discounting the lingering tenderness in my knee, and lost my footing. Arms flailing, I tried to regain my balance and failed, toppling backwards from the ledge.

"Clayton!" I shouted his name as my body whistled through the air, plummeting towards the earth. Frantic heartbeats thundered in my ears, drowning out the sound of my screams.

As I fell, my earliest memories flickered through my mind. I pushed aside the barrage of images and settled on my favorite. That of a black-skinned boy with glittering onyx eyes. And wings. Tiny, ruby-red wings that had fluttered with his excitement and made my child's heart long for the half of my heritage I lacked.

"Madelyn!" Clayton bellowed, leaping from the edge and following me into the sky.

I had only a fraction of a second to wonder if he would make it before his strong arms plucked me from my downward spiral.

His enormous scarlet wings opened wide, stretching out so far in either direction I couldn't see the blackened tips and tiny, hook-like hands that topped them.

Clayton's blunt chin dug into the top of my head. The muscular arms holding me close tightened until my breath wheezed from my lungs.

"Were you trying to get yourself killed?" he snapped. "What if I hadn't been there? What if you'd been alone?" His skin trembled beneath my fingers.

"It was an accident." I struggled in his hold, trying to free my arms from where he pinned them to my sides. "If you hadn't startled me, I wouldn't have fallen in the first place."

"You can't be so careless." He held me dangling in the air before him, shaking me senseless, before tucking me back against his chest. His voice cracked. "What would I have done without you?" His thumb worked across a bony protrusion behind my shoulder blade, marking my absence of wings.

"It's okay, really." I rested my cheek against his chest since my hands weren't free. "A fall from that height would have hurt." I carefully avoided making a comment on my personal experiences. "But I would have healed eventually."

"I don't want to hear this." His head tossed from side to side. "I don't want to know how you know that."

If I'd thought he couldn't hold me tighter, I'd been wrong. I would wear bruises for a while, but for now, I allowed him to have what he needed, letting him squeeze until joints popped and pain blossomed. It was such a small hurt when compared to the anguish carried in his voice.

Using my chin to part the fabric of his shirt, I rested my face flush against his skin. His body shuddered beneath my cheek. His desperate groan filled my ear with his heated breath as he glided the last few feet and touched down.

Still gripping my upper arms, Clayton lowered me to the ground, sliding me down his body so slowly time felt suspended. With earth beneath my feet, I leaned into him, trying to calm his ragged nerves. Something hard pressed against my stomach, making me shift to get comfortable and him growl low in his throat. Oh.
Oh.

"Madelyn..." His voice grew husky.

I pulled back, meeting his gaze. "You really are worked up over this." I twisted in a circle before him. "I'm fine. See?"

"Madelyn..."

"Don't beat yourself up over it." I touched his arm, the muscle beneath my hand pulled taut as a bowstring.

"Run," he grated out over his lips.

I spun around, searching for another demon or a wild animal, unable to imagine anything Clayton couldn't protect me against. We were alone in the ravine. No one or thing had followed us here. "Why? What's wrong?"

Our eyes locked. I gasped and backed away slowly. Clayton's pupils flashed silver, huge, luminous and spellbinding. His wings twitched with his effort to still them, but vibrant reds saturated his skin as his arousal heightened and called forth my body's own response.

"Go." He clutched his head, breaths ragged. "Run!"

I turned, but from the corner of my eye I saw him fall to the ground. Instead of leaving, I took a half step forward.

"Get away from me!" He slashed the air inches from my face with razor-tipped claws. "I can't control myself. It's too much. Your scent..." His wings stretched and then cloaked his body as he hid himself from me. "Find Figment, she knows the way."

This time he didn't have to ask twice. I spun on my heel and ran.