Death's Lover (5 page)

C
ian watched as one by one the sisters left the club, followed closely by a large were.

He rolled his neck from side to side and waited. Last thing he wanted was to have the bear catch wind of his scent.

The women wouldn’t know he was friend and not foe. Never a good idea to startle three witches and a bear. Rubbing his skull, he nursed his drink. He should have gone up to her when they’d made eye contact; he should have introduced himself, said hi at least. All of this, what he was doing, following her around like some lovesick stalker, it just wasn’t him. He didn’t act this way, ever. But he didn’t know how to do
this.
In all the years he’d walked as death, he’d never felt a need to know someone. He had no skill when it came to approaching the opposite sex, to simply talk. He clenched his jaw, he should have at least tried, but every time he contemplated doing it, his pulse would race and his tongue would feel ten times too thick in his mouth and he’d lose every word in his head.

Reaping a soul didn’t require him to learn how to interact with others. So now he just felt like an ass sitting in a bar thinking about a woman he desperately wanted to meet and not having one damn clue how to do it.

He glanced at the clock wall. The club was still packed to capacity at one in the morning.

Five minutes passed before he felt it safe to follow. Scrubbing a tired hand down his face, he stood, ready to call it a night himself. First he needed to make certain that his witch made it home safely. Tomorrow he’d come up with the impossible plan to keep her safe from The Morrigan’s clutches. And maybe figure out some way to initiate contact without letting her know who he really was.

He didn’t stand a chance in hell of coming up with one, but he was working hard at being more positive.

Positive.
He snorted.
The Morrigan will roast my head over a spitfire while Dagda chomps on my bones. How’s that for positive?

With a growl he covered himself in stealth and moved quickly through the club.

Death.

He stopped and turned.

Lise stood toe to toe behind him. She’d moved so quickly she hadn’t even blurred.

Lise.

She smiled.
You should hurry.
Gray wisps of hair curled around her delicate face, giving credence to the illusion of frailty.

He frowned. What did she mean?

And then she was gone. Not even a trace of her remained. Cian shoved blunt fingers through his hair and refocused on his witch’s lifeline.

He wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking of the dark witch as his, but somehow it seemed right.

Suddenly there was a ripping sensation of panic gnawing at his brain. She was in trouble. He felt it. In his heart. His soul. Her fear hammered at him.

Running wouldn’t get him to her in time. He opened the portal between the here and there with a swipe of his hand.

Immediately he was engulfed by color. The shifting lights a dizzying blur as he attuned himself to her spirit.

Fire rammed through his body, down his skull, and into his hand, turning it skeletal.

Not now. Please.

He moved quicker than he’d ever dared before. He fell out of the portal to his knees, landing in a putrid, brackish puddle of water.

Vertigo slammed through him. The world shifted out of focus. Dark fear, sick and twisting, filled his nostrils, his head. A carnivore devouring his soul, driving out all sanity, all reason, until only a mad desperation remained.

She needed him.

Now!

That thought gave him impetus enough to stand and fight off the overwhelming sensations. What he saw made his insides clench.

Bezel was crouched before her fallen body. Her sisters were thrown aside, their bodies contorted into unnatural positions. They didn’t look broken, just unconscious. The were was slumped half in a Dumpster, a stunned look on his face.

The prickle of another reaper shot down his spine. He turned to see Frenzy in shadow.

Stupid, Cian. You failed her. You should have sensed the trap.

He clenched his jaw as the dark haze of fury blanketed his mind. He ran, slamming his shoulder into Bezel’s, throwing the demon to the concrete.

Bezel hissed, his lavender eyes swirling with needles of red. The demon was mad with the taste of blood. One drop was all it took to bring out their baser instincts. Cian stood in front of her prone body, his arms outstretched, his legs bent into a fighting stance. “Bezel,” he growled, “she’s mine.”

The demon jumped up, his normally gregarious face split into one of insanity. He licked his incisors. “Cian, move aside. I’ll kill you if I must.” His voice was hollow and gravelly, like the rumbles of an earthquake.

Cian glanced at Frenzy, and that’s when he noticed the silvery thread of illusion netted across the alleyway. Frenzy had cast a chimera and incited Bezel into the fury.

Cian couldn’t see what illusion he’d used, but knowing that a demon responded to blood the way Bezel was doing now, he knew that was the likely culprit.

“Frenzy, quit the chimera,” Cian barked at the silent figure.

Frenzy shook his head, his silver eyes sparking with amber flame. “I’m sorry, Cian. I cannot.”

His hands clenched, there was no other choice but to battle the demon and fight off the illusion through pain.

“Move, Cian!” Bezel howled.

When Cian didn’t move, Bezel pounced on him. The demon was in a rage, ripping and clawing at his face.

He hissed as a talon tore through his cheek. Warm blood oozed from the wound into his mouth.

Cian grabbed Bezel around his scrawny farm-boy neck and squeezed. Appearances were deceptive, though. The scrawny neck was as tough as steel, refusing to give way under his grip.

Bezel wrapped his legs around Cian’s waist, constricting like a python’s deadly squeeze.

“Wake the hell up, Bezel,” Cian repeated over and over, trying to snap the demon out of the chimera.

The demon snarled and slammed a fist into Cian’s chest, taking the breath from his lungs. He dropped to his knees, bringing Bezel down with him, aware enough to roll them away from her body.

This had to end now. It was incredibly hard to overcome a reaper, but he felt too close to it for comfort.

With one last shot of adrenaline, Cian snatched Bezel’s arms and yanked them behind the demon’s back, pulling them up higher and higher.

Bezel struggled to free himself, but to no avail; he was trapped. Cian planted a knee into the demon’s lower back for leverage. Bezel howled with rage, kicking at his balls.

Cian hated to do this, but there would be no other way to stop the demon when he was fully entranced. With a swift upward stroke, he snapped both arms at the wrist.

“Bloody hell!” Bezel cried, bucking Cian off his back and crawling away on his forearms. Instantly, the silvery net of illusion faded. The chimera destroyed by Bezel’s pain.

Dragging air into his lungs, Cian hung his head, spent. His body felt like it’d been thrown into a trash compactor. Everything hurt. But he couldn’t rest, not now. He stood on shaky legs and made his way to her. Using his essence, he created leather gloves and slipped them on—he couldn’t risk the chance of accidentally grazing her with his skeletal hand.

Then he picked her up and cradled her slight body to his chest. He trembled, and not from her next-to-nothing weight. She was so soft. Her scent wrapped around his body like a gentle embrace.

Cian glanced at Frenzy.

Frenzy sighed. “You know I’ll have to come back.”

He nodded. “Please, no more this week, Frenzy. Make this fair and give me a fighting chance.”

Frenzy didn’t move or say a word.

“Swear it,” he growled when Frenzy failed to respond.

The reaper gave a slow nod. “For the kinship we share, I give you my word. But you know the queen is not bound to this oath. I’ll do what I can.” Then he swiped his hand, opening the portal between the here and there and stepped through, vanishing.

“Cian, you dirty bastard.” Bezel chuckled. A dark-green mist sheathed the demon. The snap and crack of bones reforming sounded. “You knew how to stop me.” He shook his head. “You’re either incredibly stupid or just plain screwed in the head.”

Cian licked the corner of his mouth, tasting the drops of pooling blood, the spreading ache of his wounds a constant throb. “Both.”

The demon snorted and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Mortally wounded my bindsman. He’s in the Dumpster, I’m sure praying for your services right now.”

“I’m sure.”

“Anyhow”—Bezel frowned and shoved a fist through his close-cropped hair—“sorry ’bout this. Lost my head. All that blood, then she showed up. Couldn’t stop myself.”

Cian shook his head. “She’s safe, that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah.” The demon shook his head and walked off, hands shoved deep into his pockets, appearing yet again as nothing more than a harmless frat boy on his way home from a late-night binge.

Cian couldn’t contain a sigh of relief; she was safe for now, at least from Frenzy. The Morrigan could still choose to send another. He fervently hoped that Dagda could somehow get her to agree to the terms. The fae god had sent him back to his dark witch after all. Surely he had some vested interest in protecting her as well.

For now, he’d bought some time, and that was all that mattered.

But it was not enough. Not nearly enough.

Eve groaned.
Did I die?

Pain flared through her head like a nova about to burst.

Probably not. I hurt like hell.

All she could remember was demonic purple eyes, the taste of sulfur on her tongue, and finally, darkness.

She shivered, feeling cold. But this wasn’t a normal chill. This was a marrow-deep, soul-sucking abyss.

Eve wanted to scream, rage, and cry all at once. Tears welled in her throat. A hollow, mind-numbing void consumed her.

Sharp bursts of pain came lightning quick and stole her breath. It was like an ice pick ramming through her brain.

She hissed through her teeth. Panic and fear for her sisters hammered at her heart. Were they okay? But she couldn’t open her mouth to speak when every breath hurt so badly.

Eve whimpered, on the verge of hysterics.

“Shh. You’re okay. Demon bespelled you. Rest. You are safe.”

The voice wrapped her in a pool of silk. Warm fingers ran gently across her forehead. The touch comforted, anchored her to the present and away from the hellish nightmare of a stalking demon. The needle-hot pain slowly subsided down to a low throb.

She relaxed into the warmth, the touch. The last of the lingering ache faded away like mist over rolling waters. Finally able to take a breath without the flare of pain dulling her senses, Eve opened her eyes.

Frost-blue and gold eyes collided, along with a wicked sense of déjà vu, though she wasn’t given much time to think about that odd prickle.

Instead she was sucking in a breath when the reality of who held her finally seeped through her sluggish mind. His gaze was a soft caress that seemed filled with hunger. The kind that promised danger and lust and dark nights.

A hot shiver ran down her spine and filled her with liquid heat. The quick glimpse of him at the bar had not done the man justice. Not a blemish to mar the sculpted beauty of his face. He seemed made of marble, every feature chiseled and clearly defined.

For a split second, she wondered whether the body under the clothes was just as carved, and a warm curl of desire tied her gut in knots. His breath tickling her neck made her aware of other things. The rise and fall of his chest. Her arms wrapped around his thick neck. She was filled with a sudden need to run her fingers through his hair and see if it felt as silky as it looked.

The stranger gently sat her down but she didn’t back up or move away. For some reason the thought of putting distance between them never crossed her mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grazing a finger down the side of her neck.

Goose bumps trailed a fiery path across her flesh. She winced when his fingers ran over two hard bumps. “What is that?” she asked, a bit breathless and dizzy.

“Demon’s kiss. Befuddles the mind. Makes it easier to dominate.”

“Eve.” Tamryn’s voice broke her trance. Eve jumped and turned, nearly bowling her sister over in the process.

“What?” she snapped with embarrassment.

Tamryn narrowed violet eyes, her gaze sharp and assessing. Celeste crept up behind Tamryn, groaning as she rubbed her left temple.

Both sisters were scratched and banged up. Tamryn wore a nasty gash over one eye, while Celeste had a long vertical cut up one cheek. Otherwise, they looked to have fared the fight in one piece.

“You okay?” both sisters asked at once.

She nodded, knowing by the glint in their eyes that she’d been projecting again.

For once can I just lust in private?

Celeste gave her a small smile, then turned her attention to the stranger with a raised brow.

“Oh.” Eve turned toward the man, his blue eyes threatening to hold her captive again. “This is…”

“Cian,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face.

Her cheeks burned. The man was intense. Oh, but who cared. He was totally hot.

Lame, Eve. So lame.

“Cian,” she repeated slowly, tasting the vowels.

Harry grunted in the background as he fell out of the Dumpster to the unyielding pavement below.

Tamryn rushed to the were’s side.

Celeste, the most curious of the three, held out her hand in welcome first. “Well, thanks for the rescue. That demon went totally ape. No way we could have handled that without your timely rescue.”

Cian nodded. “Glad I was around to help.” He bit his bottom lip and glanced back at Eve.

She wanted to squirm under his hot gaze. Carnal thoughts knocked at her door.

Tamryn shuffled up, her shoulder braced under Harry’s arm. Harry leaned against her heavily, looking slightly worse for wear with his cracked lips and swollen eyes. That was going to be one hell of a mug tomorrow.

They each glanced at each other, an uncomfortable tension growing between them.