Demon Crossings (16 page)

Grace could feel it too. He felt the change in her body, the way she pressed closer into his warmth. His cock began to harden, not giving a fuck about portals, demons or danger, only about Grace’s breasts squashed to his back and her warm breath on his neck.

Fen took a half a step to the left and Aiden followed his lead, subtle as it was. Fen had a knack for finding the portal. Suddenly they were upon it and Aiden lifted his hand. He’d picked this time of day because at twilight it was nearly visible. A slight shimmer to the air in front of them, a feeling of a spider’s web against your skin.

Grace was nearly vibrating with attention. How had she ever believed she was human? He’d seen hikers pass directly through the portal when it was seconds from splitting and not notice a thing. Grace noticed. She could have led them here herself.

“We’re almost directly over the fault. Can you sense Hallie’s direction?” Decades of training made him loath to stand over an unstable portal.

“No.”

Despite the heaviness in his chest, he started to move forward, waving at the others to stay behind. They formed a protective semicircle around them.

“I want to go alone,” Grace whispered in his ear.

“No.”

She hitched her leg up and tried to jump off the horse. He swore and twisted enough to wrap an arm around her waist. “I’ll move us in closer.”

“Not us. You’re interfering. If you want me to get a fix on her, I need to get away from
you
.” Her voice was low and irritated. Of course, she was suspended over the ground with only his arm for support. He lowered her gently.

“You only have a few minutes. It could fissure at any moment. They come fast and you’d be dead before you had a chance to scream.”

Her face paled but she nodded and walked unerringly toward the portal gap. Fen whined and Aiden felt like doing the same, watching her stand there, small, unarmed, alone.

Doubt stabbed him in the gut. Hard to pretend he wasn’t using this woman when he was letting her stand at the portal to hell for his sake. He could count the things he knew about her on one hand. If she died, he wouldn’t even know what to do with the body. Of course, if she died here, there wouldn’t be a body left to worry about.

He was just about to call her back when she turned around, smiling, and relief rushed through him like a cool, sweet breeze. She’d found something. She took one step and then a demon came out of nowhere, knocking into her side and making her stumble. There was another right behind the first. This one, higher level and not quite as stupid, swept its black eyes around the waiting circle then grabbed Grace’s arm in its clawed hand and disappeared back through the portal.

With a roar, he surged forward, the hunt moving with him. Fen outpaced them all, darting through the portal while Aiden was forced to pause for a second to lop the head off the stunned demon left behind. And then they were across. A flash of cold that cut to the bone, a moment’s disorientation, and then the hollow darkness of Asgard folding around him like polluted water. The whole place reeked of rot, of death and torment. There was no sign of Grace.

This was exactly how they’d lost Hallie.

Asgard was riddled with tunnels, treacherous holes in the dank rock where anything could hide. Their job was to keep the lesser demons from escaping into the world, never to launch an assault. Impossible.

Fen howled and Aiden followed the sound. He hadn’t lost her trail. Aiden stormed up an embankment then threaded his way down a slippery, rocky trail. Grace lay at the bottom. Fen stood over her, blood dripping from his fangs. Fen’s paw, the size of a dinner plate, lay over her chest holding her down.

Aiden leaped from his horse and kneeled beside her. Her arm was broken, that was clear. A shallow slice curved around her waist, missing her spine and soft belly by centimeters. Her eyes were wide but aware. He slipped his hands beneath her and started to lift her up but she struggled.

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “It’s me and Fen. We’ve got you.”

“I can feel her,” she whispered and then her eyes rolled back in her head.

Behind him, Fen growled low in his throat.

“Take her,” Aiden yelled, lifting Grace into Christian’s arms. He remounted and drew his sword, facing off the demons that were lurching, crawling, gliding their way on slick black wings. “Get her out of here.”

Grace woke to the sound of her own screams, rolled once and scrambled away from the hand reaching for her. It took a minute to register the soothing words, the dim room, the tall man, blond hair in a military cut, bending over her with a concerned frown.

“Grace,” he said firmly. “It’s me, Dr. Greene. Do you remember—”

She yanked her arm out of his hands. The word
doctor
jolting through her body before she recognized the speaker. Her arm smacked against her knee and the pain hit her so hard her vision went black at the edges for a minute.

“A doctor, Grace, not a demon.” As if that made it better. He held up his hands, keeping his voice low. It was the same tone she’d heard Aiden use to quiet his horse. The only thing that made her able to get a hold on her panic was that he stayed in the same spot. Dr. Greene, the doctor she’d met her first night in Ragnarok. He wasn’t going to hurt her.

“What happened?”

“You were injured.” That was Aiden, coming from the doorway. “My fault.”

The doctor frowned but didn’t say anything when Aiden walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. He still wore the same clothes he’d worn last night, looking rumpled for the first time since she’d met him. The lines bracketing his mouth were pronounced and he looked particularly grim. She was in his room, his bed. “Is everyone else okay? Fen…”

“You were the only one who needed care. You had a deep cut to your abdomen and your left arm was broken.”

She looked down at her arm. She remembered that, vaguely. Everything had been moving so fast. But she remembered being slammed into one of those black rocks, the sharp crack and the sudden pain. It still throbbed but at least the bone hadn’t snapped completely. She’d thought it had.

“I healed the bone,” the doctor was saying. “It’ll be sore for a few days so try not to use it too much. Should be good as new by the end of the week.”

“The cut?” Aiden asked.

The doctor tossed a roll of gauze into a duffle bag sitting on a chair next to the bed. “I drew the poison and sealed the wound. Won’t even scar.”

“What about a cast?” she asked, and he smiled.

“No cast. No stitches. No changing bandages. We’re not barbarians.”

She felt her side, startled to find bare skin under the blankets, embarrassed and confused. The skin was unbroken. That injury she remembered clearly. The demon had leaped over one of those jagged rocks, dragging her behind like a piece of meat. The blade-sharp edge had sliced through her clothes, jeans and jacket, cutting into her skin. Some pieces of the rock had broken off. She’d felt them in her body, icy cold needles melting inside of her.

A shudder ripped through her. She didn’t want any part of that place to be a part of her.

“What was that you said about poison?”

“It’s gone.”

She still didn’t trust him entirely. “But…how?”

His smile widened. “It’s my gift, seer. The explanation wouldn’t really mean anything to you. Any more than Fen telling you how he shifts into a hound, or Aiden…” He turned his head and whatever he’d been about to say died on his tongue. “Sorry I had to stitch you up last time but—” he held up his hands and wiggled his fingers, “—I didn’t think you’d understand then. I did take care of that too while you were out.”

She touched her forehead where the stitches had been itchy and driving her crazy the last day or so. Smooth skin. “Thanks.”

She sat up, pulling the sheet with her. “Did your wife have her baby?”

He shook his head. “False alarm last time. Stubborn little girl.”

“A girl?”

His eyes lit up. “Any day now though.”

“You should be getting back to her. Thanks again, Alan,” Aiden said.

He walked the doctor to the door, whispering something in a voice too low for her to hear. Alan looked up and nodded, gave her one last wave and then was gone. Aiden strolled over to the window. He pulled back the curtain with two fingers and watched the car pull out of the drive. The light was harsh on his face, highlighting the worry lines and glinting off a day’s worth of stubble. She’d slept straight through the night. It didn’t look like Aiden had gotten any rest.

“It occurred to me last night that I wouldn’t know who to contact if you died here. You said both of your parents are dead?”

She pulled herself up to rest against the headboard, turning that question over in her head. He was working his way up to something and she didn’t like where he was headed. “They both died a long time ago. Car crash.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “That must have been difficult. Bea was killed by a drunk driver and I…well, I know what it’s like when your world changes so suddenly. No warning. Your life drops to the floor and shatters. You must have been very young.”

She was silent. It had happened less than six months before she was released from the hospital. The news was what convinced her it was up to her to figure her own way out.

Gently, Aiden asked, “What were they like?”

High. Drunk. Absent. Dead. She cradled her sore arm in her lap and he followed the movement with his eyes. She shook her head. “Where is this coming from?”

“Any brothers or sisters?” Only if she counted the other kids on her floor. Sixteen, none of them blood relatives. Only three she still kept in touch with. And even then, it wasn’t exactly affection that made her pick up the phone.

“No.”

“Why were you afraid of the doctor?”

“I didn’t know who he was or where I was.”

His pale eyes narrowed.

She shook her head. “Don’t look too much into it.” And if it sounded like a warning, fine. It was meant to be.

“Fen said—”

“Fen should keep his mouth shut.”

“He’s a friend.”

“Apparently he’s more your friend than mine. I won’t forget that next time.” She’d let slip she was afraid of doctors to Fen when he suggested she have Alan look at her stitches. Did he report every word back to Aiden?

Aiden rubbed his hand over his face. “Grace. I want your help but I haven’t been fair about this. The doctor says you heal too slow to be true blooded Æsir. It might have been an effect of the poison but it could also mean that you’re human—”

“Not a revelation to me.”

He pinned her with a sharp look. “
Too human
to survive what I’m asking you to do.”

“I survived the crossing. I’m Æsir enough for that.”

“You said you could feel Hallie.”

“Yes.” On the other side, she’d fixed on Hallie’s direction as easily as she’d found Maia.

“Could you point out a direction then?” He sat back against the windowsill, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think Christian might have had the right idea.”

“We have a better chance of finding her if I go with you. Some food, a shower, a good night’s rest and I’ll be fine.”

His eyes angled up to meet hers. Guarded again, she couldn’t get a read on him. “This time you’re fine.”

“You’re not responsible for me.”

He held onto her gaze a moment longer then pushed away from the sill and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge and bending to pull off his boots. They thudded against the floor.

He snagged the T-shirt with his fingertips, pulling it forward over his head, slowly revealing his broad back. A thin pale scar she hadn’t noticed before crossed his left shoulder. As strong as he looked, it made him seem vulnerable.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced back, a half-smile on his face. “Finally getting to bed.”

“Here?”

“It’s my bed.”

She would have gotten up sooner but she would have had to do it naked. “I’m sorry. I can leave.”

She didn’t move as he stood and dropped his jeans to the ground then crawled into bed beside her, tugging the sheets from her balled fists so he could slip underneath them.

He looped an arm around her waist and grunted as he pulled her down into the bed, hauling her against his chest. He pressed his face to her hair and exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving his body with his breath. “You’re not going anywhere. You need the rest too. We’ll finish this talk in the morning after we both get some sleep.”

“I can use the other room.”

His arm tightened, brushing the underside of her breast. “I want you here. I need to know you’re safe.”

She snorted. “Is that what you want?”

“Sweetheart, I’m flattered you think I’ve got that kind of stamina but I really just need some sleep.” He brushed her hair to one side and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. “Rest for now. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

Her hand closed around his wrist. Such a strong graceful wrist, covered in soft golden hair. She could feel the beat of his pulse under her fingertips and at her back, steady but slowing. “What are we doing?”

A huff of breath tickled her nape. “All I know is that I can’t let go right now.”

He was gone when she woke up. She was sprawled on her stomach, taking up most of the bed. The sheet had slipped down so that it barely covered her ass. One leg hung off the bed and her tangled hair fell across her eyes. She was sore everywhere. It would have been great if her condition had been caused by a night of wild sex instead of a near-death experience.

The sun had moved away from the window but it was still daylight. Rolling over, she groaned, her stiff muscles fighting her every inch of the way. The clock said it was after five. Why hadn’t Aiden woke her up?

Just as well. She could use a few minutes alone to get her head together, take a shower and figure out a game plan before facing Aiden again, especially since he suddenly seemed so curious about her family. She wandered into the bathroom not bothering to drag the sheet with her and stood there trying to see her side in a mirror that was a little too high to get a good look. Her fingers traced the thin seam that curved under her breast so there must be a scar but it didn’t feel like a big one and it didn’t hurt at all. The doctor did good work.

Magic. It should have scared her or at least shocked her but after everything else that had happened this week, the healing seemed like such an innocuous thing. Or maybe she was all filled up on surprises and any new ones were water overflowing a full bucket.

She took a shower, got dressed in shorts and a tank top, brushed through her hair and headed down stairs, hoping that this one time they wouldn’t have company. No muffled voices. No cars coming down the drive. For once they were alone. Almost shyly, she entered the kitchen, the smell of brewing coffee luring her in. Aiden sat at the table, hands curled around an oversized mug. His gaze swept her body in a quick dispassionate appraisal.

She was starting to hate that look. He’d pulled back again, hiding all of his cards and expecting her to lay hers on the table. She was giving him her help freely, had given him her body too but he kept trying to steal more.

“You’re feeling better?”

She shrugged and pulled the door to the refrigerator open, scowling when she realized there was nothing inside but Lois’s untouched casserole and a couple of suspicious looking peaches. “The shower helped. Well, your doctor did most of the work. Do I owe him money? I have insurance.” She grabbed a peach. “Do witch doctors take Blue Cross?”

“Alan’s not a witch. He’s a simple healer. And he’s also Æsir so no, he wouldn’t expect payment from anyone injured on the hunt.”

She sat across from Aiden and concentrated on eating her breakfast…dinner. The peach was still good, juicy, just this side of overripe. She waited until he took a breath to speak. “How does it work exactly?” she asked, hoping to distract him. “Fen’s a hound. The twins are crows. You lead the hunt. Fen said it was all genetic but what if there’s no little baby Odin?” She winced, hoping he wouldn’t take that as a proposition. “Or no healer in the next generation.”

He eyed her suspiciously but answered the question. “It doesn’t work that way. There’s a genetic component, yes. But we’re bound together, this group, this fault. The magic would always ensure there was someone to fill the role. If not, they’d be drawn here, just as I think you were.”

“Magic.”

He nodded. “Or near enough as makes no difference. And you’ve already heard most of this so stop trying to distract me.”

She blinked innocently and one corner of his mouth tucked up. “That’s not going to work,” he said gruffly and reached across the table. She stared at his hand as it folded around hers. Wide nails, big knuckles, sturdy, hard and as dependable as he was. “I’ve tried to respect your privacy but there are things I need to know.”

She swallowed to wet a mouth suddenly gone dry. “Like what?”

“Like why you won’t talk about your family. If you’re a runner from one of the other clans, I won’t fault you for it.”

Her gaze jerked up. “I haven’t been lying to you.”

Is that what he thought? That this was a game to her?

“But you don’t share either.” His grip tightened. “I hardly know anything about you.”

“You know I can find your daughter.”

A hit. She saw him flinch but he didn’t back off. “Why are you doing this? Is your life out there really so bad that you’re willing to throw it away so casually?”

“This is not a casual decision for me but what if it was? You’d be an idiot not to use that if it means getting Hallie back. And I know you want her back so what the hell is this?”

“I need to understand why you’re helping us.”

“Why?”

Determination and frustration warred on his face. “Why would you think I’d be happy with pieces of you? You’ll let me inside you but won’t answer a few simple questions.”

“That’s different.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“You’re the one who offered me sex, nothing more, and now you’re asking me to give you everything.” She pulled her hand free of his hold and stood, taking her coffee with her and moving for the backdoor. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Grace.” It was more a groan than a command but still it stopped her in her tracks. “Just give me this one thing. I’m not asking for all your secrets.”

“Why? To soothe your conscience? You want to know there’s a reason I’m doing this other than the fact you’re a good lay. You want to know you didn’t manipulate me into risking my life for your sake. You want to know I’m not romanticizing this or you. Am I getting close here?”

He released a harsh breath. “I just want to understand.”

She turned and leaned against the counter. He was twisted around in his chair, his arm half slung over the back. That pinch between his eyebrows made him look fierce and concerned at the same time.

It was mostly pride stopping her and there didn’t seem like much point holding on to that now. And she couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t storm out and abandon Hallie, not for this. Whatever was going on in Aiden’s head, he was risking a lot for her answer.

“My mother institutionalized me when I was ten,” she said, and he went very still. “It freaked her out, my gift.
I
freaked her out talking about things I shouldn’t know, visions and dreams, going into trances for hours at a time. She was an addict and had enough of her own problems without the demands of caring for a mentally unstable child. One day, I told my father she was in bed with their dealer when he asked where she’d gone. There was no way for me to know it. He left, she blamed me and really she’d never been able to afford me anyway. So she checked me into a psych ward one day and never came back. They both died two years later.”

She’d stopped looking at him sometime in the middle of her little speech, letting her eyes go unfocused.

“I’m glad,” he said, voice strained. “It saves me the trouble of hunting them down.”

And this is why she hated telling people. It was complicated, hard to defend them but it hurt not to try. “They weren’t bad people. There were good times too and they loved me, I know that. But they didn’t know how to help me.”

“Grace,” he said, but she couldn’t look at him yet.

Instead, she stared at a scratch on the floor. “I don’t hate them, I never did. They were together when they died and I like to think that maybe things turned around for them, you know, after I was gone.”

“You weren’t crazy.”

“Near enough and that’s not really the point. I learned how to lie about what I could do to get out of the hospital and placed in a home. I knew better than to tell people even after I was released.”

He stood and came to her, but she pressed a hand against his chest, staring at her splayed fingers and breathing deep. She could keep her voice flat and emotionless but she couldn’t make herself look into his eyes. He cupped her cheek, an edge of dry skin scraping her lightly.

She set her coffee aside and shook her head, breaking the contact. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Maia has a better shot with a dad who accepts her than with a grandmother who thinks she’s crazy. And Hallie…I need to get her back here, home to the people who love her.”

Aiden’s hand slid around to the back of her neck and kneaded the tight muscles there. He didn’t try to force her to look at him though. His free arm wrapped around her shoulders and smoothed down her spine. He dropped his chin to the top of her head and they stood for a minute, not speaking. His heartbeat, so steady and strong against her cheek, his arms wrapping her in comfort or pity or whatever the hell this was. If he’d said something, she could have rejected it, thrown it right back in his face. But this silent sympathy folding her up in warmth—she had no defense against this.

Still, she roused herself, pulling away and trying to gather the pieces of her shattered composure. “So does it make you feel better? That I have my own reasons for staying and they have nothing to do with you?”

He swiped a thumb over her cheekbone. Checking for tears, she thought, but her eyes were dry. She forced her gaze up to let him know she was okay and that knocked her for another loop. It wasn’t pity in his eyes but a strange mix of anger and simmering heat. Before she could peg his intention, he tugged her hair to angle her head up and dropped a quick, fierce kiss to her mouth. “Thank you.”

His hips canted forward to pin her to the counter and she could feel his erection through his jeans. Her blood pumped harder through her veins.

“Is this another pity fuck? Because I don’t think I can take—”

He growled, nipped at her lower lip and shoved his tongue inside her mouth to shut her up. His fingers dug into her hips and he held her still, grinding himself into her. His tongue owned her, gliding against her teeth and then pushing farther until she bit down on the tip just so she could gasp for another breath.

He lifted her onto the countertop and her hand flailed out, knocking into the coffee cup and sending it tumbling to the floor, a dark stain spreading over the pale patterned linoleum. He grabbed her knees and pushed them wide so he could step in between.

“It’s never been about pity. I don’t know why the hell you think that. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself even when I knew better. And then, yeah, I thought maybe that was part of why you decided to help us out. I couldn’t live with it anymore, thinking you could die helping me.”

Most men wouldn’t have cared. Most men would have taken advantage anyway. His hand slipped under her shirt and she pressed her breast into the cup of his palm, moaning against his lips when his fingers flexed. His thumb grazed the tip of her nipple and it hardened against his skin. And then her shirt was jerked over her head and his mouth was there, suckling her breast, his hair soft against her sensitive skin, tickling her as he moved his head in for a better angle. His arm was wrapped behind her, locked low on her spine, keeping her back arched to him and her clit riding against his chest.

Too much sensation. Too much restriction. She squirmed and he pulled back, gauging her reaction before slipping his fingers into the elastic waistband of her shorts. She braced her hands against the counter and lifted her hips. His palms were rough against her thighs as they slid down, pushing her clothes aside. And then she was sitting naked on the counter in this quaint kitchen that people liked to walk into at all times of the day without knocking.

Aiden was still fully dressed but when she pulled at his shirt, he obliged her by yanking it over his head and tossing it aside.

“We should go upstairs,” she whispered.

He dropped to his knees and spread her with his hands, forcing her thighs open and making her feel horribly exposed. The dying sun came in through the window over the sink, slashing a fiery streak across the back of his head, one broad shoulder. He glanced up again.

“I’m not waiting.”

Her lids lowered at the need in his voice and that must have been enough acceptance for him because he buried his face between her thighs, nuzzling at her clit before opening his mouth wider to suck at it hard. When she gasped and fisted her hand in his hair, he slid lower, dipping his tongue inside her and groaning as he lapped her up. Suddenly she didn’t care so much who might wander into the kitchen as long as they let themselves out again without interrupting.

She let her head fall back and lost herself to the firm stroke of Aiden’s tongue, the animal noises of need and satisfaction, the feel of his hands on her body, controlling her, keeping her exactly where he wanted. The feeling spreading through her, piercingly sweet, that at this moment in time she was wanted, desperately wanted by this man.

His sudden withdrawal and the cool air touching her damp skin brought her head back up. She heard the rip of his zipper. And then he was inside of her, hard and pressing deep, gripping her ass and pulling her tight against him as he drove forward. She gasped and squirmed at the suddenness of that invasion but he didn’t let her go. He shifted his hold, hooking his hands beneath her knees to draw her legs up and around his hips. Her thighs tightened around him instinctively when he pulled out and slammed into her again.

She clutched at his shoulders, trying to find some balance but it was useless. She’d lost her balance the first time she’d seen Aiden, the first time she’d rolled down that dark road into town. And so she let herself go, relaxing and letting the heat between them roll over her and suck her under. Not even caring if she was dying because it felt so fucking good. She couldn’t lie to herself. Aiden
was
part of the reason she was going after Hallie. She could sense his heartbreak, his fear for his daughter and his love. Aiden—protective and honorable, putting his needs aside to take care of everyone else. It was killing him that he couldn’t ride into the portal and rescue Hallie all by himself. How could Grace walk away from that? From him? But he didn’t need to know. Maybe she had her own demons to fight but that wasn’t the whole reason she was here.

“You’re beautiful.” Aiden’s voice was hoarse.

He was staring down between their slick bodies at her breasts, which bounced with every thrust. She looked at his chest, slopes of heavy muscle, his ridged abdomen and tight hips, then back up at his face, so raw and stern. He was gritting his teeth, his expression harsh.