Demon Chained (Shadowfae Chronicles) (15 page)

His sharp fae teeth grazed my new wrist, a sweet sting that made me gasp. "Hold it longer. I want to taste you."

Truth was, I didn't much care what he wanted. But longer sounded good. Desperation burned me, a hungry ache that needed to be fed. Mmm. Perhaps it wouldn't matter if I just . . .

I hopped off him, and yanked him by the wrist towards the bedroom. My vision doubled, and I staggered, and we tumbled down together into caramel sheets that still smelled of Luke's fragrant sweat.

I pulled Gavain's head down into my lap, his rough hair tickling. He took the hint and dragged his mouth up the inside of my thigh, spreading that glorious glittering heat everywhere, his tiny breaths burning fierce little portions of me away to smoke. God, it felt amazing. I hooked one knee over his shoulder, dragging him closer, drowning myself in his hot, sweet scent, enjoying the feel of his slick fairy skin on mine.

He teased me, caressing me, pleasuring me with every drift of smoke over his tongue, his teeth, his slick wet lips. Tension gripped my guts, fierce and unforgiving, the shivers wracking my body giving me no relief. My fists clenched in the sheet, and I strained to hold as smoke, to stay like that and use him for a few seconds longer. I barely noticed him wriggling, scrabbling with one hand on the floor by the bed like he'd dropped something.

I groaned, my lungs aching. "Do it. Melt me. Please." Melt me, lick me, screw me senseless. I didn't much care.

He shifted, and something cold and metallic brushed my knee. It smelled familiar. Huh? I opened my eyes, but he teased me with gentle claws, and I nearly sobbed with anticipation. He'd breathe on me, melt me right on my swollen sex, and then he'd inhale and I'd come so hard my eyeballs would pop. I held my breath, my muscles shuddering tight . . .

Brass.

My blood iced, and I jerked upright.

I smelled brass, cold and metallic and cruel, like dusty memories of fifty years of darkness and oblivion.

In his fist glinted a long brass bottle, etched with evil spellwords and glimmering like scarlet gemstones with hellfire.

A soultrap. Brass, just like my lamp. He was trying to trap me.

"You fucking prick." My pulse pounded, burning me dizzy. I flexed my hips and shoved, rolling him over with me astride him, and pinned his hands down. The bottle clanged to the floor and rolled away. "What the hell are you playing at?"

His pulse fluttered against my palms, and his muscles quivered beneath me. So he liked a fight, did he?

I squeezed his wrists tighter. "Why are you trying to trap me? Who sent you?"

Reddish tears stained his lashes, and he averted his face, dark hair spilling. He didn't want to face me.

Well, he bloody well would. Sympathy wormed into my heart, and I jumped on it hard. "What's going on? You bloody drugged me, Gavain, and now I'm so horny everything hurts. Tell."

"She made me, okay? I had to."

"Why? Who made you? Start making sense, fairy boy, or I start clawing eyeballs."

He sniffled, wet. "The purple lady. The demon queen. Delilah. At Joey DiLuca's house. So I went to Tam's and I . . . and I took the lamp. But then it was empty and she told me to come and get you."

Great. This Delilah sounded so harmless. "Why, Gavain? What did she promise you?"

"She'll hurt him. If I don't polish and shine for her she'll steal Tam and she'll bend him and break his skin and chew his eyes out and cut him open and rip his face with her claws and—"

"Okay, fine, I get the picture." I closed my eyes, aching. Damn it. How was I supposed to stay angry at him now . . . ?

Crunch
.

My muscles froze. The door lock again. Now what?

***

Chapter Fifteen

"Jewel?"

Tam. Distant, muffled by the door, but unmistakable.

Oh, hell.

The broken lock crunched again. "Jewel, I know you're there. Look, I'm sorry about before. We need to talk."

Gavain closed his eyes, making a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"Get up!" I whispered fiercely, and jumped to my feet. Tension still wracked my limbs, the drug still fresh and needy, and I struggled to relax. Thank God I'd put the chain back on the door. That dirty eavesdropper. I imagined him, standing there with his ear pressed to the wood, listening to every breath and whimper and cry I'd made. Again.

My flesh twitched—kind of a sexy idea, him watching us—and impatiently I dragged Gavain up. Warmth still flushed my skin. My hair hung limp with sweat, in dire need of a wash, and my legs were damp with Gavain's blood-tinged kiss marks. Obvious to anyone what we'd been doing.

Well, screw it. I didn't care. I wiped myself with the sheet and dragged my dress straight at both ends to cover me. If Tam wanted me, he had a clueless way of showing it.

Gavain sighed, breathy and resigned. I knew that sigh. I'd sighed it myself on many occasions. The one that said, oh, crap, what the hell have I done? Beside him on the bed lay his soultrap, a cork shiny with use stuffed in the top. It reminded me of my lamp, etched and burnished bright. Where did he get it? Some friendly succubus? He saw me looking, and snatched it away, muttering.

Whatever. The bastard drugged me. I didn't care if he felt shitty about it now. I stumbled out into the living room, leaving him to scrape himself together, and unchained the door.

Tam blinked at me, and my heart fluttered like a lost butterfly towards the sun.

He wore fresh clothes, paler jeans than before and a charcoal T-shirt that was just tight enough to remind me what he looked like without it. He'd tied his hair back, too, smooth like raw silk, and the place where his skull was broken barely showed. How did that work? How did he heal himself? His skin looked great, supple and taut over his arm where the inky thorns flowed. I wanted to run my fingertips over it, down over the muscle to the inside of his elbow, where the blood pulsed slow and warm . . .

Come on, Jewel, you're staring. At least aim for some dignity. I swallowed, my cheeks burning. "What do you want?"

His gaze dropped, and he gave a little laugh before glancing back up at me with a disarmingly guilty smile. "Look, you freaked me out, okay? I was a prick. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you were. And you should be." Warmth coated my nerves, my skin tingling blissfully. God, spare me his charm on top of everything else. I already wanted to kneel at his feet and give him whatever he asked. That's what it means to be owned. I can't help it, any more than I could stop the effects of Gavain's fairy drug.

Well, this time I bloody well would help it. I clenched my teeth. Don't say you forgive him, Jewel. Don't.

"I mean, it's not every day I find out I own some magic lady in a bottle. No offense."

I crossed one leg in front of the other, hoping he wouldn't notice the state I was in. But I reeked of sex. Surely he'd notice. "Whatever you say, Tam. What do you want?"

He shoved hands in pockets. "I thought about what you said. Maybe we can help each other . . . oh. Shit." He stared past me, a flush darkening his face.

Yep. He'd noticed. But not my mess.

I sidled away, to get out of the firing line, but Gavain just looked at him, his dark hair jagged and messed up, his eyes mad and drenched with longing. And Tam just looked back, a sweet tremble in that lush bottom lip.

My heart chilled. I felt like a bad woman, an adulteress. I didn't know what these two had beyond a few smoldering glances, but whatever it was, I'd just shattered it.

Tam gave him a shiny, bitter laugh, and turned to leave.

"Tam." Gavain flitted out after him, and slid light fingers around his wrist. "Stay."

Tam shook him off. "Screw you."

"Do it, Tam. Please. For Jewel." He grabbed Tam's arm again. Great. Now the skinny fairy bastard knows my name.

For a moment Tam fought him, muscles straining, but Gavain wasn't letting go. Tam clenched his fist, his jaw twitching. "What do you care about her? You didn't bring the lamp back to her, did you? You just— Jesus, you're so fucking flip. Get off me."

"I know he took it, Tam." I struggled to keep my voice even. For them to fight because of me was too ridiculous to bear. "He told me everything, okay? You're a pair of dirty thieves and I hate you both. Now can we swallow the damn hormones and talk about this without ripping anyone's eyeballs out?"

Tam tore free from Gavain's grip at last, and slid a melting glance down to the hem of my skirt, which was creased and maybe even a little damp. "Yeah. Sure. Why not?"

Okay, so the hormones were a bad call. Mine certainly weren't swallowed. They were sprinting laps around my blood vessels, naked and wailing, and when Tam brushed past me to go inside they popped a few backflips too.

I stood there for a moment, too dazzled by his rich male scent to move or close the door.

I'd honestly forgotten it'd be like this.

It wasn't just the leftovers of Gavain's sweet fuck-me juice, either. Something special happens to their smell when they own me, a lure I can't resist. I can taste their sweat, feel their fluids on my tongue, delicious like the tastiest meal. Katashi was famous for that. I don't normally do the vampire sex thing, but he smelled fantastic, like strawberries and chocolate. Even fat pimp Anwar had his moments, a bit like a devilishly hot vindaloo that had been on the stove for too long. And whenever Luna got too close, I got dizzy spells from the citrus blossom.

But Tam didn't make me dizzy. He made me
hurt
. Made me think about that gritty room at the nightclub, his pistol shoved up under my chin, his tortured skin shining and his lips inches from kissing me . . .

Of course, it helped that he had delicious black hair and muscles to die for and a dirty, snarky, fascinating mouth that put yet another hot and hungry ache between my legs just looking at it.

Surely it was just the drug. Javier always said I was insatiable—and he was one randy fae boy who never knocked it back, let me tell you—but this was ridiculous. And now I'm locked in a little flat with two clever, dangerous, beautiful men. What a great idea. Perhaps I should just strip naked and wait. I'll go in the middle and everything. Come on, guys, help me out here.

I squeezed my eyes shut on images of Tam in front, Gavain behind, those tight twin frictions filling me, body heat molding around me, hair spilling over me, hands pulling, tugging, pleasuring . . . I shivered, my nipples stiff and aching. Note to Jewel: never spend half a century celibate again. Ever.

I opened my eyes. Fantasies wouldn't help me get my lamp back. Not even really, really hot ones. "Gavain, are you coming in or what?"

But he'd already gone, only a whiff of sweet cocoa scent remaining. I hadn't heard him move.

"Shit." I trotted out and leaned over the rail, but the stairwell was empty.

Tam didn't even bother to look. "Let him piss off and hide. It's what he's good at."

***

I have to turn sideways to get past her in the doorway, and discomfort fists in my guts. Her lips aren't blue anymore. They're pink, swollen, wet like she's been kissing. She even smells of him, that dark flavor of blood and cocoa, and screw me, but I want to hit her. I want to kiss her guilty mouth until she says she's sorry. I want to fall to my knees and lick her clean, kiss his mess off her hard little legs and swallow it so both it and she are mine again.

My teeth crunch together, and jealous tension pops my knuckles, only it isn't him I imagine strangling, but her. Watching her fuck a stranger is one thing. Listening to her get off with Gavain is completely another.

A familiar, burning chill slides into my veins like a long-lost drug, and my face feels hot and swollen. Getting possessive, Tam? Don't go there. You know what happens when you go there. People take your things and smash them.

I drag my gaze away from her as I stumble past. I steal stuff for a living, for God's sake. Ownership should be a joke to me, but still my muscles twitch at the thought of her with him, of him lying to her like he must have. Then I remember that I lied to her first, and bigger, and my mouth sours with shame.

The room's as I remember, dust and computer parts, sunlight pouring in through torn curtains over the grimy kitchen window. Behind me, she slams the door, and then she jams the chain back into the lock hard enough to make it rattle. If I didn't know how irresistible I am, I'd think she was angry with me.

I glance around. No sign of Luke. No one else here. Should have figured she'd take out the garbage. A house thief, no less. I'm impressed. "So where's your boytoy? Head in a pot on the stove?"

She storms to the couch, barefoot, her face a thundercloud, and plonks herself down, folding her arms. "Gone, not that it's any of your business. What are you doing here?"

So she's talking to me, then, or at least yelling at me. That's a start. I grab a scarred kitchen chair and spin it around before I sit on it backwards, so I can lean my forearms on its back and put something solid between us. "Look, Jewel, I—"