Demon's Hunger (32 page)

Her fingers were on his shoulders, digging in as she moved, taking all of him, making them both moan. She rocked up, then down, a wild swirl of heat and need spinning between them, a storm, and laced with that was a deeper joining, bright magic pulsing between them like a symphony.

Dain felt her passion, her love, the beauty of her soul, joined to his on every level, reaching through the bond of magic to unite them. She was healing him, the pain in his arm receding, strength and power flowing through him in a heady rush. Her magic was so different from his, smoke and cloud and mist, where his was light. The mixture was potent.

The strength of the blending, her magic and his, was infinitely greater than ever his had been alone.

"You've done it, Vivien, love. You've brought me through it." She had. She had brought him through, not draining his life force but sharing her own.

Their bodies slid against each other, sweat-slicked and hot. He ran his hand along her rib cage to her breast, stroking her nipple, pinching it as she arched her back and moaned, the throb of magic a deep ecstasy between them.

He gripped her buttocks, angling her hips, steadying her. Faster, harder, he drove deep, taking them both into an urgent, swift climb. She was so beautiful above him, lush and sweet and hot. A sharp cry tore from her throat, her muscles trembling as she locked her legs tightly against him, her hands curling into his shoulders, her head thrown back as she trembled with her release.

The feel of her convulsing so tightly around him shoved him to the brink, and he crashed over, great pulsing waves radiating from his cock, shredding his control as he came with a yell.

Breathing hard, he grinned up at her. "Holy flying fish." With a laugh, he rolled her beneath him, pressing his lips to hers to take her gasp of surprise. And he made love to her again. This time just for fun.

Later, much later, Vivien curled against Dain amidst the rumpled sheets, the pillows tossed about, their bodies pressed as close as two could be.

"I'm hungry," she whispered, then laughed at Dain's wary look. She shook her head, amazed that she could find humor in this. "For ice cream."

Dain smiled, rolled from the bed. "I'll get it."

He'd been gone for only a moment when Vivien heard the sound of the front door opening and the murmur of voices. She scrambled for Dain's robe, black silk reaching almost to the floor, the material sensual against her skin. She wandered to the stairs that led down from the bedroom. Ciarran and Clea stood in the hallway, along with a blond man she didn't know.

Dain had sent a text to let them know everything was fine, but it seemed they were looking for in-the-flesh assurance. He was talking to them, clad only in a pair of pale gray sweatpants, his feet and torso bare, the sight so sexy it made her mouth go dry. Sensing her there, he turned and looked up at her, and she thought that the air must be crackling with the heat in that gaze.

She wasn't sure what his sorcerer brotherhood thought of all this—her and him—but she was no coward, so she went down to greet them.

Ciarran gave her his usual grave greeting, his amazing, multihued eyes assessing her from head to toe. Clea was by far more exuberant.

"Vivien!" she cried, and embraced her, sending Vivien's concerns evaporating like dew in the sun. "I'm so glad you're all right."

Dain drew her to his side, his arm looped around her shoulder as he introduced her to the other man, Talyn Baunn. He was as tall as Dain, his hair summer bright, his eyes a pale denim blue.

She shifted to shake his hand, her body brushing Dain's in a slide of silk and a spark of magic, sending her power surging. A shower of purple light sprayed down on all of them like rain.

Baunn's eyes widened, and his gaze shot to Dain. "You said she was a succubus."

"She is… I mean, I am," Vivien said.

His expression intent, serious, Baunn studied her. "You have beautiful eyes," he said, his tone almost quizzical. "The color is unique."

Perhaps from someone else, she might have read it as a come-on, but the way Baunn said the words made it clear they were purely an observation.

Ciarran quickly brought them up to speed about the plan to destroy all the summoner's bones so there would be no chance of a re-animation, ever.

"I just need that demon bone, Dain, and any other charm bags you have," Clea said. "We've got everything else we could get our hands on. I just need to take care of whatever you have in your vault."

Dain went to retrieve them, returning moments later with the charred demon bone and two charm bags.

"Oh, wait, I have one." Vivien crossed to the closet and fetched the bag Amy had given her from the pocket of the shearling coat. She handed it to Clea, glad not to have to touch it for long.

Dain drew her close in a one-armed embrace.

"Anyway, we didn't intend to stay long," Clea said, and shot Vivien a smile. "We just came to get these, and return this." She held out Vivien's purse, stained, marred, and still slightly damp. "I found it on the ground in the alley, near the Dumpster. It took us long enough to find the alley. That demon set up one heck of a smokescreen. I thought the purse might be yours, so I checked for ID, but there was nothing."

"Yeah, it's mine. And no, no ED." Vivien shook her head. "I grabbed the wrong purse when my house went up in smoke. The one with my wallet and cell got left behind, and I snagged the one with mascara and lip gloss and not much else." She rolled her eyes.

"There's a photo." Clea paused. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I only looked to see if there was ID. So who's the picture of? He looks exactly like you."

Reaching into the purse, Vivien drew out the framed photo. "My dad," she said, and her heart twisted. "My mom always said I was exactly like him. That there was nothing of her in me. Nothing at all." She traced her finger along the picture's frame, thinking of her new reality. "Guess she got that wrong."

Beside her, Baunn inhaled sharply. She glanced at him to find his eyes locked on the photograph.

"May I?" he asked, his voice thick.

Vivien let him draw the picture from her hands, tension ramping through her at the odd look on his face.

Baunn's gaze shot to Dain. "Have you looked at this photo?"

"No." Dain took the picture from him and stared down at it. "Jesus," he muttered, and passed the picture to Ciarran, who had the same odd reaction.

"That's Shay," Ciarran said. "
Christe
. She's Shay's daughter."

Vivien's tension ramped up a notch, and with it came another shower of light energy, falling like fireworks.

"You'll get better at controlling that," Clea said. "It just takes practice."

Vivien shot her a smile, and then looked back toward Baunn. He was the one who had started this bizarre conversation about her father, and he was the one who would end it.

"My father took off when I was two. He never looked back. You're calling him Shay. How do you know his name?"

Baunn raised his gaze to hers, and he didn't look like the laid-back surfer boy anymore. He looked shocked and amazed and… pleased.

"Shay… I know his name, Vivien, because he was my best friend." Baunn shook his head. "And you're his daughter. You have his eyes."

Vivien felt her shoulders tense, her neck muscles knot.

"He left when I was two," she repeated flatly. "And he never looked back."

Baunn shot a look at Dain, then returned his gaze to Vivien. "He didn't leave you. He was killed. Murdered. I knew Shay. Vivien, he never would have left you by choice."

"Wait," Dain said, frowning. "If Shay was her father, then…" His words trailed off, and he turned to look at her, incredulous.

"What?" Vivien demanded, spinning to look at each of them, already reaching her own conclusions. They knew her father. He was a sorcerer. Her mother was a succubus. Which made
her
…

"It explains the vibe I got when I walked in," Baunn said. "Your magic, even your soul, may be half succubus, Vivien, but it's also half sorcerer. Your heart is sorcerer."

Two sides of a coin. Light. Dark. It didn't matter as much as she would have imagined.

"Yes," she said softly, turning to Dain, lacing her fingers tightly with his, certain of this. "My heart is sorcerer. My heart is Dain."

"Hello, Talyn." Araminta pulled the door of her suite wide in invitation. "I've been expecting you."

Baunn exhaled long and slow. He pushed off the wall where he'd been leaning, took her invitation, and stepped inside. He didn't bother with niceties, instead getting right to the point.

"We've destroyed the others. Now I want the bones and the bags you've collected, Araminta."

"Yes, I'm sure you do." A faint, bitter smile touched her lips. She turned, walked to the window, and stood looking out at the city lights.

He waited, letting her take all the time she wanted.

"Do you think I killed him?" she asked at length. "Do you truly believe I murdered Shay, then spent nearly three decades plotting to bring over the Solitary?"

Yeah, he did. Most days, he was certain that she'd murdered Shay, that he'd loved her and trusted her, and she'd drained him to the point of no return, leaving him vulnerable to the demon attack. On those days, Baunn's hate was so strong it filled him until there was nothing else. Then there were days that he wondered, why? How? He could have sworn that Araminta loved Shay with everything she was. So why the hell had she killed him?

"Just give me the bones, Araminta." Baunn kept his voice low, his tension locked up tight. They were too well matched, too close in power for either of them to win in a fight. He just wanted the charm bags and the bones she'd gathered from her victims.

There would be another day for him to seek his vengeance.

"Listen to me, Baunn." Her voice had taken on a different tone, fast, a little urgent—so unlike the Araminta he knew that he
did
listen. "Those men I killed. It wasn't what you think. They were evil. Pedophiles. Rapists. I fed, and I brought justice—"

"Justice? You killed them and stole bits and pieces of their bodies so you could bring the end of the world in the form of a demon. So you could bring the Solitary."

"You dare judge me, sorcerer?" She waved her hand as though shooing away a fly and pinned him with a hard glare. "Your kind kills, too."

Baunn shook his head, knowing the argument was futile. His gut churned at the situation he found himself in, unable to bear the thought of letting Araminta go free but bound by a vow to his dead friend not to hunt her. It felt like a million years ago that Shay had made him swear to keep Araminta safe if anything ever happened to him. Did the fact that
she
had happened to Shay nullify Baunn's vow?

"Your plan has failed, Araminta. Cede defeat gracefully and give me the damned bones."

"What is it you think I plan, Talyn? At least let me know the full breadth of your accusations."

His fingertips tapped out a quick staccato beat against his thigh. "I think you plan a re-animation of the Solitary's original summoner. I think you've been feeding off mortals to gain strength, gathering the charm bags with Bezal's bones, and murdering his sister's descendants to supplement the missing bits." He studied her, searching for some nuance of expression to give her away. But there was nothing. Just her beautiful, serene face, calm and cold as ice-kissed marble. "What I can't figure out is what you planned for your daughter.
Shay's
daughter." He enjoyed the moment as surprise flickered in her gaze. "Yeah, we know that Vivien is Shay's daughter. Half succubus. Half sorcerer. Why did you send the demons after her? She was gonna be—what?—the blood sacrifice in your little Frankenstein scenario?"

She drew back as though he'd slapped her, horror flaring before she dragged her mask back in place.

"Until today, I had no idea that Vivien was a succubus," she said. "And until this instant, I had no idea that she was half sorcerer. I didn't know such a thing was possible. I believed her mortal, and I wanted her safe. It was a trade, Talyn. I was to help reanimate Bezal and bring over the Solitary. And in exchange, I was promised two things: Vivien's safety. And Asher's torment. He was to be consigned to the pits of hell, ripped apart in the demon realm again and again, only to heal and suffer once more." She smiled, a tight, perfect curving of perfect lips. "You speak to me of justice? Well, that is Asher's just end."

"You're lying," he snarled, hate pounding him like a storm-stirred surf. "I spoke with Asher. He admitted his involvement. He admitted that he is allied to the Solitary and the demons. Allied to
you
."

"Allied to me? And you believed him?" She laughed, brittle and dark, the sound so unexpected that Baunn drew up short. "I have lost everything," she said, her voice vibrating with barely leashed emotion. "I have lost Shay. I have lost my daughter. But I have not lost my hate. I will see Asher—your Ancient—destroyed. I will see him suffer and burn. Whatever agreement he made with the demons, I made one of my own to see him destroyed." Her voice dropped to a pained whisper, tinged with venom. "You want to find the monster that murdered Shay? Well, look to one of your own, sorcerer. I didn't kill Shay. I couldn't. I loved him. It was Asher, then and now. It has always been Asher."

Buffeted by hate and rage and a million questions, Baunn watched her cross to the dining table of her suite. She trailed her fingers over a book, then lifted it and turned toward him.

"I know that Vivien is safe. Loved." She looked incredibly sad for a moment, wistful and broken. "I know her sorcerer loves her. He was willing to die for her. And I love her as well. In my way, I love her as well. Tell her that for me, Baunn. Tell her that and give her this gift, the one thing she has ever asked of me."

She crossed to him and handed him the book. He glanced down, read the title, handwritten in a flowing script:
The Short Version of the Succubus Manual The Crash Course
.

When he looked up, Araminta was gone.