Phoenix Broken (19 page)

With a certain pair of green eyes intent on her face, it was hard to focus, but Des forced the words out.

"He was going to kill her. I saw it, he had the knife in his hand and he was going to her. I was sure he was going to slit her throat. I couldn't scream, I could barely talk. But somehow I got out her name and he just….froze."

Scott was breathing hard, watching her closely. What was he thinking?
Demon bitch almost got my friend killed?

Probably.

Des turned to Nolan wearily. "I don't know how to explain it, but he looked back and forth between us, like he was confused all of a sudden, or couldn't make up his mind. It was weird, but in the end he went for me again."

"He didn't just come for you. You begged him to." Mags' voice had both men's heads turning to her. "I heard you, Des. You told him you were his target and to leave me alone."

Scott's gaze came back to hers. Something fierce in them made Des drop her eyes to the floor.

"Well, yeah. Anyway… I thought I was done for. Then he just left. Jumped the fence and didn't look back. Are you done with me for tonight, Nolan?" Her vision had started to blur, but Des thought she managed to keep her voice from wavering too much.
God, here we go. This is gonna fucking hurt.
"Sorry, I'm just so tired."

"Yeah, sure. Go on, Des," Nolan waved a hand. "Scott, let me run it down…"

Des stood up, careful not to look at anyone. She moved down the hall, thankful when the voices faded, though the weight of one particular gaze was heavy on her back all the way to her bedroom.

Her fingers trembled as she fumbled opened the door. Somehow she got through, closing the damn thing in time to sink back against it.
It's starting.

She managed to strip with her back pressed to that door, blessing the fact that she'd chsen a simple dress for her date with Guido. Her legs started to shake. Her fingers were trembling so badly now, buttons would've been impossible. With several clumsy pulls at the side zipper, the fabric finally peeled from her body and hit the floor. Screw the bra and panties. She'd already slipped her shoes off before heading out back earlier, so at least she didn't have heels to contend with on top of everything else. Des took a few weaving steps for the bed, which seemed to dart away instead of getting closer.

Damn it, floor, hold
still.

Her door flew open before she'd gone more than a couple paces. Scott hadn't knocked, but she wasn't surprised.

"Go away, Johnny. Can't you tell I'm all in?" Des managed to half fall against the dresser and press herself against it hard enough to keep herself upright. Scott's eyes raked over her, his jaw flexing as he took in her near nakedness. Des ignored that, except to lift her chin. It was her fucking bedroom, Scott wanted to barge in, he could deal with the goddamn view.

"You're lucky you didn't
die
tonight."

"Kinda realize that. What should I have done, eh?" Her head felt so heavy; too heavy to hold up. It started to pound as she tried not to nod off.

"You should've kicked his goddamn ass!" He moved forward, seizing her forearms and yanking her to her toes. "What've we been doing the last few days, Des? Preparing you for
this!
That wasn't playtime, you know—it was kind of supposed to save your life."

"Let go of me. I think I've gained enough bruises for one night."

Scott looked down as if startled to see his hands on her. He let go at once—and Des started to slide. She'd have gone straight to the floor if he hadn't grabbed her again. His expression went from angry to alarmed in a finger snap,

"What the hell, Des?"

"Iss no biggie." Oh god, was she slurring her words? "Go way."

"
Des?"

Blurrily, she pushed him away and took a step toward her bed. She swayed. The next thing Des knew the floor was rushing at her face.

Well, fuck
.

When she opened her eyes again, a familiar smell enveloped her. Pine and grass and something like violets and mist…

Vaguely, she realized she was on her bed. Or rather Scott was on her bed, and she was on Scott.

In his lap. He was warm; giving off such a delicious heat it made her want to curl up against his chest and purr.
Why does he have be so damn warm and smell so fucking good; like a forest at the crack of dawn?

"Cut the crap, Desdemona. You're
not
okay. Something's wrong. Tell me before I call Bri. What else did that guy do to you?"

She blinked at him, unable to focus. Her Johnny sounded kinda worried. Surely not.

"Wasn't him. Not 'xactly. And your healer can't help. This is…demon shit. I tried to use my powers on him, the assanin…assy— the bad guy person thingie." Her vision was hazy, but she could've sworn she saw his lips curve.

Des tried to wave a hand, but her fingers only fluttered on Scott's chest. Muscles curved there, outlined by the soft white T-shirt he had on. She traced the hard ridges absently, not noticing his jaw tightening again, or the way his breathing started to go fast and shallow.

She plucked at the fabric; it looked like something he'd sleep in. Had he been sleeping when Nolan called him? Fisting it in her hand, she wondered how he'd look when he was sleeping.

Hard, warm body. Delicious body.
It would be easy to taste it.
His throat was right there, that yummy tan dark against the white of his tee. She wanted to press her lips to his skin, but couldn’t make her head obey. Did he wear boxers with that shirt when he went to bed…or briefs?
Nice visual, either way.
Be nicer if it was boxers, though…

No, make that boxer briefs
…

Her eyes started to close, her head falling back as her fingers loosened on his shirt.

"Desdemona!" His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her up.

"Go way, Johnny. Need sleep."
Before the pain starts for real.

"Why? What's happening to you? What the hell does using your powers have to do with this?" He shook her, until her hair flew over her face.

"Argh. You're so
mean!"
She pushed at him, trying to get free of those arms, but it was like a kitten batting at a tiger. He had her flattened back to his chest with one negligent squeeze. Des glared up at him through the tangles of her hair.

"Fine. I told you. I used my powers on him. You know. Like you think
I do to you. Those whore powers of mine." The body beneath hers went stiff.

"I've never called you a whore."

"No," she agreed after a minute's thought. "You said I was…what was it? Oh yeah….
worse
than one."

Heavy silence. Scott's arms tightened enough to make her ribs protest.

"I did. I
did
say that. And god knows I'm fucking sorry for it, alright? And I'm sorry for earlier tonight, too. You misunderstood me, about the kids. I don't know why it hit you so hard, Des, but… Jesus, you make me insane! I don't know who I am anymore, I just fucking react, and make everything turn to shit. But I don't mean to hurt you, angel. I
don't."

Her throat felt hot, tight. She couldn't process what he was saying.

The black spots were back, along with the pain. She'd been warned about this pain. In a sudden white-hot burst, it streaked through her, lightning forking through every limb, bowing her spine back as her nails dug helplessly into Scott's chest. Caustic and hot, it didn't just burn,
it consumed.

She couldn't even scream, only…endure. Twisting in his arms silently, as Scott stared at her in horror.

After the first wave receded, she went limp, unable to so much as blink for several minutes, no matter how much he shook her.

"Des!" Above her, his face was white. "Tell me what the fuck is happening." He leapt from the bed, headed for the door, his intent obvious as he opened his mouth to shout.

"Don't!
Please
. They can't help. I told you. And I don't want anyone else seeing me like this." Wow, was that
her
voice? It was so hoarse. Creaky like a frog with a three pack a day smoking habit. She tried to clear it, but the effort only made her gasp for air, bringing Scott back to her side instantly. Finally, she caught her breath enough to speak.

"I used my powers on that prick. Every bit of them. Drained myself…dry. Never tried that hard before.
Omno."
She shuddered. "Didn't even work. Father would be so
proud," Des managed a soft, sarcastic laugh. She tried to lift her heavy head, to examine the odd expression on the face above hers. The effort made her dizzier, so she shut her eyes in defeat.

"You drained yourself?"

"Oh yeash
."
Was she slurring her words again?
Did it matter?

"What's happening to you?"

"Don't know… exactly. Never done this before."

"But you've heard what to expect?" His tone was sharp, as if he suspected she wasn't being entirely candid. Smart
and
handsome as hell. A great dancer. Great kisser, too. Now if he could just do something about that personality…

Des sighed, wishing Scott would shut up and go away. Talking was way too much effort, and she could feel another wave building. Tears pricked her eyes
.

"Yes, I've heard…things."
It's going to get worse.

When she didn't say any more, fading out one more time, Scott shook her yet again. He might've meant to be gentle, but her temple lolled into one rock hard shoulder, making her see stars.

"Oh, for fuck sake!" she moaned. Her head was throbbing as she forced her eyes open to glare at him. "What the hell do
you
care? It won't kill me, if that's what you're worried about."
I don't think.

"I care."

Her eyes flew open.

"Of course, I do." He spit the words out. "Jesus
Christ,
Des, you think I'm such a prick I want to see anyone in this kind of pain?"

Ah, Johnny, you'll make me swoon.

"Let alone you, angel."

What was that?
  She could barely hold onto conscious. Maybe she shouldn't bother to try. Not with what was coming.

Her fingers tightened in his shirt. Stopping herself from saying the words she didn't dare trust him enough to say.

Don't leave me, I don't care what I said.

I don't want to be alone.
Her bottom lip trembled.

He looked down at her white face, then swore. "What happens when a succubus drains her powers, Des?"

She shrugged, the small movement making lights flash at the edge of her vision.

"I'll be very…
sick
for a few days…maybe a week. Like a really bad flu."
Nope, worse. A thousand times worse.
"I'll get through it, there's no other way. Unless—" She bit her lip just in time.

"Unless …? Fuck, there's a cure, isn't there, Des? Something that will speed up the process?"

Her eyes fell shut. "It's nothing
.
Go away, Johnny."

"Unless you
feed
, right?" Oh yes,
very
smart. Give the man a fucking cigar.

"What the hell does that even mean?" He sounded pissed now, an edge to his voice. "What is the actual trigger? I know you went down on me last time, but is that the way it always has to work or…or…"

Her lips twitched at the way he couldn't say the words. For some reason, she found that funny as hell at the moment.

If only she had the energy to laugh.

"As much as I enjoyed tasting you, no, it doesn't have
to work like that. It's not semen, but orgasmic energy that feeds me, Johnny. It's the
emotional
release of your body and mind."

A tremor went through Scott as she'd admitted to liking his taste.
Probably shouldn't have told the bastard that…

There was a long pause. He eased her back onto the bed. She cried out as the coverlet scratched at her excruciatingly tender skin.

"Damnit, Des! I can't leave you like this. I fucking
won't.
Tell me what I have to do."

She stared at him in disbelief, her nerves raw with pain and exhaustion. She'd relived one of the worst memories in her life today.
Thanks to him.

Someone had tried to kill her.

For about the thirtieth time, or maybe fortieth, but who the hell was counting?

She'd put her new friend in danger, the first new friend she'd had in well…ages.

Not to mention she was getting ready to face unimaginable pain. For several
days.

Des was fucking
done.