Demon Marked (35 page)

S
he'd risked her life to save his. Willingly, without hesitation. Even if Sam and Jace hadn't been there to tell him what Emma had done, Andre would have known the truth. He would have sworn he'd sensed Emma with him, heard her voice in his ear, felt the soft brush of her hands against his cheek and the sweep of her spirit inside him. She'd brought him back from the brink of death.

The second he'd pulled in his first breath, he'd realized that it didn't matter if she was part monster. She was Emma, the woman he loved. He knew firsthand what it was like to carry a dark thing inside of him that he was ashamed for anyone else to see. But Emma had seen it and fallen for him regardless. She was brave and beautiful and amazing, and there was no way he was going to let what had just happened change the way he felt.

So she'd killed some people. She'd only used her power against Little Francis and his men once it was a matter of survival. She'd also saved a hell of a lot of lives. Now it was time for someone to save hers.

“What are you doing, man?” Jace asked when he scooped Emma into his arms and started for the door. “We shouldn't move her. She needs an ambulance. You both need—”

“No. No doctors,” Sam said. “They won't be able to help her.”

“But she's full of venom. She needs antivenom, and I used the last of it on—”

“The antivenom poisons her.” Andre turned back to Sam and Jace. “It doesn't help. She has to feed in order to get the Hamma out of her system.”

“Then let her suck the life out of Francis.” Jace motioned to where their cousin still lay motionless on the floor. “You almost died, Andre, and what Emma does takes years off of people's lives. Sometimes it even—”

“I know, Jace. We've found another way for her to feed, a way that doesn't seem to do any damage.”

“What? But she—”

“Let them go, Jace. I can't see Andre anymore, and I'd like the same to be true for Emma.” Sam's fear for her sister was clear in her voice. “Take care of her, Andre. ... I'm afraid the Hamma's going to kill her.”

“It won't.” Andre kicked open the door and headed out into the hall. He had to find someplace private, safe. The family apartments on either side of the hall would be perfect. Sure, the hallway was full of men stunned out of their minds and twitching on the floor, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He stepped over a lifeless-looking Dr. Finch—half hoping Jace had killed the bastard—and into a room with a queen-sized bed and its own bathroom. Andre locked the door behind them and hurried into the bath, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the giant tub dominating one corner of the room. Exactly what he was looking for.

Emma's arms were covered with gold dust from the sparking. She was beginning to look like a life-sized Academy Award. He had to get the Hamma residue off her skin. Hopefully that would help her body flush out the toxin. A bath and some food and she'd be fine. She
had
to be fine.

Emma moaned softly and her eyelashes fluttered as he set her down on the toilet seat and reached over to start the water.

“Emma? Are you awake? Can you hear me?” he asked, his heart racing when she moaned again and wrapped her limp arms around his neck.

“Bad ... so bad.” She slumped against his shoulder as if she lacked the strength to hold up her head. Which she probably did. He'd never seen anyone spark so bright. Most people would have died before they processed this much Hamma.

“It's okay. You're going to feel better in a few minutes,” Andre promised, willing himself to believe his own words.

He swiftly and efficiently stripped away Emma's clothes—shocked to see her bullet wound had completely healed—and lifted her again, settling her into the bathwater. She slid down, resting her head against the sloped side of the tub, trailing her fingers through the water lapping softly around her thighs.

Andre looked down, momentarily frozen by the sight of the woman he loved completely nude for the first time.
God
, she was so beautiful, pale and smooth and shimmering like some sort of goddess, too gorgeous to be real, too perfect to touch. Her teacupsized breasts turned up toward the ceiling, pale nipples pulled tight in the air-conditioned room. She was smaller than any woman he'd been with in recent memory, but her tits made him crazy. He was dying to kiss along that achingly soft skin, to take one pink tip in his mouth and then the other, to suck and nibble until she writhed beneath him, begging him to push inside her.

“Yes. Please ...”

Andre's eyes flew to meet Emma's, shocked to find her watching him with the hint of a smile on her tired face and desire in her honey-colored eyes. He hadn't really expected what they were about to do to be particularly pleasurable for either of them. He'd assumed he'd be too afraid for Emma, and Emma ... well, he'd assumed she was too far gone to feel much of anything except the desire to live. The fact that she could still want him—that she could reach for him with her trembling arms—blew him away.

His throat clenched tight and his hands shook as he stripped off his shirt and pants and made quick work of the underwear Emma had teased him about earlier in the day. As he eased into the water beside her, pulling her into his arms, he prayed she'd be making fun of him again soon. He wanted to spend the rest of their lives together fighting over stupid things like boxers versus briefs, making love and memories that had nothing to do with death.

 

The energy she'd pulled from the men in the circle was still at work within her—doing its best to banish the drugs that threatened her survival—but Emma couldn't say for sure whether it was that energy or the sound of Andre's voice that had brought her back from the edge. All she knew was that the second Andre's skin touched hers, she felt stronger, cleaner, closer to the land of the living. His warm hands gripped her hips and moved her through the water, up and over, until she laid on top of him, her back against his chest, her ass nestled close to where he was already thicker, harder.

But not quite hard enough ...

“Don't be scared of me,” she whispered, laying her hands gently on top of his, sighing when he smoothed his palms up her ribs to hover just beneath her breasts.

“I'm not. I love you.” His pressed a soft kiss to her throat, his lips lingering to feel her pulse speed beneath her skin.

“Even after . . . what you saw?”

“It doesn't matter.” He reached for the soap in the dish. “Now, let's get you cleaned up.”

“Are you sure? It doesn't disgust you?” Emma sucked in a breath as Andre's soapy hands ran up and down her arms before moving back to her ribs, teasing closer and closer to where her nipples ached for his touch.

“It scared me at first,” he said, his voice strong and steady, even when he captured her nipples in his soapy hands and tugged. Slick skin slipped through his fingers, but he found her sensitive flesh again and again, rolling and plucking and teasing until her head fell back onto his shoulder with a moan. “But you could never disgust me. Ever.”

Emma arched, rubbing her bottom against where Andre was harder, hotter, before lifting one leg from the water and watching him soap her up from thigh to toe. “But I—”

“You didn't choose to carry that thing inside you, and you've got nothing to be ashamed of. Killing people who are trying to kill you is self-defense.” He finished with one leg and urged her to lift the other. As she shifted and her thighs brushed together, Emma gasped aloud. She was so wet, past ready to have Andre inside her. “That thing is like a cancer. But we're going to send it into remission.”

“Yes.” Emma's fingers dug into the thick muscles of Andre's arms as he lifted his hips, carrying her completely out of the water, giving him access to the last bit of un-soaped Emma.

His touch was light, a whisper between her legs, teasing in and out of her swollen folds, making her even slicker before he dropped his hips and water rushed over her thighs. Emma moaned in protest, but before she could complete the sound, he'd dropped the soap back in the dish and lifted her again. His strong hands claimed a thigh each and spread her wide, lifting her knees up and out, baring her to him in a way that was almost lewd ... and entirely arousing.

“You have the most beautiful pussy.” His voice was thick and rough, his breath hot against her neck as he brushed his thumbs down her outer lips, pulling them gently apart, baring the slick, pink cleft of her core to his touch. His finger tapped softly against her swollen clit—once, twice—making her breath hitch and things low in her body tighten. “After we're finished here, I'm going to take you into the bed in the next room and taste you. I want to—”

“I want you. Now,” Emma said, a shudder running through her entire body as Andre shifted his hips and his cock sprung up between her legs.

He was so hard that little veins stood out along the length of him, turning his shaft nearly purple. The sight of him, so engorged and ready, his thickness nestled against where she was slick and wet, made her hotter than she would have dreamed possible. She'd nearly died today.
Several times.
But with Andre so close—his warm skin pressed to hers, the safety of his body cradling her own—that didn't seem to matter. She wanted him for reasons that had nothing to do with needing to purge the Hamma from her system.

“You want me?” His fingers teased through her swollen flesh again, then moved to circle her clit, drawing a raw sound of need from her throat.

“Yes. Fuck me, please, just—” Emma cried out as Andre reached down and guided his cock inside her. He pushed all the way to the end of her body, filling her in a different way than it had the other times they'd made love. The tip of his cock bumped against a new place, a bundle of nerves that sent a jolt of electricity surging through her. Emma's back arched and her breasts thrust toward the ceiling.

She gasped, and her breath rushed out. “I thought the G-spot was a myth.”

“That's okay. I thought aura demons were a myth,” Andre whispered into her ear as he pulled back until only the tip of him remained inside her heat. “We've both been mistaken once or twice today.”

Something in his voice made her think of the memory she'd seen in his mind, the one of him watching her sneak away from Boudreaux's. She tensed, holding herself away from him when he tried to move. “I'm sorry I lied to you again. I just wanted to try to fix things. I didn't want you to have to hurt anyone, especially your family. I didn't mean to—”

“It's over. Just make sure it never happens again.”

“Never. I promise.”

“Good.” He shoved inside her again, making her call his name. The blue light erupted a few seconds later, bursting from their straining bodies, setting the room on fire. Together, they burned. Andre drove in and out, in and out, while his fingers stayed busy at her clit, flying back and forth with perfect, gentle pressure until the tension inside her could no longer be contained by flesh and blood.

Emma came with a sound—half sob, half cry of victory. The bliss ripped through her body, shredding her to pieces and then putting her back together again, re-forming her as a being full of beauty and pleasure. Within her, the darkness twisted and thrashed, fighting to stay wakeful, watchful, but it was no match for the drugging effects of satisfaction and love. She sensed the dark craving lessen, the way it did after a feeding. She knew the second it lay down and went to sleep, the predator banished for a time by an act of celebration rather than violence.

Her entire body went limp with relief. It was over. It really was. The danger had passed and the rebuilding of their lives could begin. Emma floated on the tide of the aftermath of what Andre did to her, smiling and relaxed, filled with sensations of such pure well-being that even Andre's sudden shout couldn't faze her.

“Shit!” Andre cursed as he reached for the faucet with his foot, shoving the lever into the “off” position. They'd forgotten about the running water, and now it overflowed, streaming down the side of the mammoth tub to pool on the already flooded floor.

“Oops,” Emma said, laughing softly despite herself.

So much had happened, so much horror had been packed into the past few hours. But even knowing there were still more than a dozen bodies to be cleaned up and disposed of couldn't banish her grin. She was too happy, too grateful to have been given another chance with Andre, another chance to—

“Shit!” She vaulted into a seated position, splashing more water out of the tub.

“What's wrong? Where—”

“The book.” Emma rose to her feet, water streaming down her body, and reached for one of the towels hanging on the wall. “The spell book was empty. The pages were blank.”

“Do you think Ginger still has it?” Andre asked, flipping open the drain before grabbing a towel of his own, his swift movement testimony to how seriously he was taking all things aura demon. “Do you think she realized Francis was up to something and gave him a book filled with blank pages on purpose?”

“Maybe. Hopefully. But we need to get in touch with her right away.”

“At least Mikey's not involved in this. If she's with him, she's safe. At least ... safe from normal danger.”

“Right. Normal danger. Like we've got any of that going on around here.” Emma frowned down at her and Andre's clothes, which floated on the flooded floor. “We're going to need something to wear.”

Andre wrapped his towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door. “I've got a few pairs of gym clothes down in the locker room. The pants will be huge on you, but—”