Phoenix Broken (9 page)

Her fingertips brushed the nape of his neck, the soft bristles of his short hair teasing her. She resisted the urge to slip them higher. To pull his head down and taste those firm lips again. There was something him that drew her, powerfully. Something beyond the need that called to her demon like a siren's song. He made her a little afraid…and a lot curious.

“You two looked real
friendly.”

“Well. That's because we're friends.” Giving him a look, Des refused to elaborate though his curiosity was palpable. She didn’t owe him any explanations. The less he knew of her, the better.

“He called me 'human'. Your friend's a demon, too, right? Like you?”

She frowned at him, not missing the stress he'd put on the word 'friend' as they spun slowly around the floor, but choosing to ignore it.
Humans.
Always the same old story. She was a succubus, so of course that had to mean she screwed everything that moved.

“Guido is demon, but he's nothing like me. I'm just the dirty spawn of a demon who should've known better. Guido is pure blood.” The purest of the pure, she thought without a tinge of bitterness.

“Is he an incubus?”

Des choked, then couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. When Scott raised his eyebrows, she only laughed harder.

There’d been a running joke in the Saandon for years that Guido was, in fact, incubae. Not because there was any question of his caste, but only because the big demon did seem to screw everything that moved.

It’d been a sore point with Valencio Calimente, Guido's father, who'd been furious at what he considered a slur on his son's name. The Calimentes’ were blood warriors; the highest caste in the demon world. Valencio had once been so foolish as to bring up his affront at the rumors in front of Des' father. Augustine had looked at the demon and asked with deceptive mildness if Valencio considered being incubae something to be ashamed of. Incubae were second caste, but only just. And her father had been the most powerful incubus ever known.

The rest of that particular dinner party had been…tense.

“Oh, if his father could hear you!” she gasped with another laugh, but the thought of Valencio sobered her mirth. She suppressed a shudder and sighed. “Guido Calimente is not incubae. Did you cut in just to talk about him? Maybe you should've asked Guido to dance instead of me, Johnny.”

Des caught a smile before he scowled, hiding it. “Can you stop calling me that? My name is
Scott.”

“Nope. I prefer you as Johnny." She arched an eyebrow at him. "
He
wasn’t such an asshole.”

For a second she could've sworn regret flickered over his features, then it was gone.

Don’t be so naïve, Des.  He's human. He thinks of you as a whore. He told you so himself. Your feelings don’t mean shit to—

"I shouldn't have said that earlier. At the bar."

Startled, she could only stare.

He flinched. "Goddamn it, don't look at me like that. You don't know me, but I'm not usually such—"

"An asshole?"

He snorted, smiling for real this time as he whirled her gently into the corner farthest from the bar. She couldn't take her eyes off him. He was attractive enough glowering. When the mask dropped, he was positively dangerous.

And damn light on his feet. He guided her effortlessly, his hands gentle but firm. She could feel the heat and strength of them through her dress.

He wasn't as tall as Guido, and far leaner, but his shoulders were almost as wide. The ripple of hardened muscle under her hands every time he moved made her imagine what he'd look like without the shirt on…and
that
made her dizzy. She only seen his stomach before, and felt his naked chest under her hands, but by those indicators, the rest of this man would be absolute chiseled perfection. She already knew his cock was. The thought of him inside her hit out of nowhere. Pleasure danced up her spine, light and shivery.

She looked up to see him staring at her, his green eyes dilated. His lust for her was palpable, humming though the air with her own desire, making her ache.

Des forced herself to shake it off. Being tempted by this man a second time was
not
allowed.

Scott took a steadying breath of his own. "I don't really know who the fuck I am anymore, to tell you the truth. Maybe I
am
an asshole, now that I think about it."

She smiled. "If you're expecting me to argue, don't."

For a heart stopping second, he grinned, wide and brilliant and just a bit goofy. The expression faded as he stared at her. "Des, I'm having a hard time with what…happened the other night."

"So you have no problem saying
blowjob
when we're in front of Guido, but when it's just me and you, you get all tongue-tied and shy?"

He shook his head. "I'm not shy. And I told you I was sorry about that."

"Actually, you didn't. You said you shouldn't have said it, but you didn't say you were sorry."

Scott stopped moving. He lifted one hand from her hips and put a finger under her chin. "I'm sorry, Desdemona."

His voice was soft and surprisingly sincere, those green eyes direct and unblinking on hers. Her lips parted as she looked up at him. His hand circled her throat, making her feel vulnerable as he bent closer. His thumb stroked over her pulse, which had started to race. She couldn’t move. At the last second, he did. Scott dropped his hand, looking dazed.

"It's okay, Johnny," she whispered. "I already forgave you."

He swallowed, looking at her with something unfathomable in his eyes. "He won’t."

"Huh?" She was finding it hard to think straight, the memory of his fingers still warm on her skin.

"Your friend.
Guido."
He jerked his head back at the bar. Guido was sipping whiskey, watching them with an expression even Des didn’t dare interpret. Her eyes darted back to Scott's.

"It’s not like that." Her chin came up as his hands found her waist again. The song changed, but she knew they weren't done yet. “He understands.”

"Does he?" Scott’s voice had hardened again.

"What I am has never been an issue between us." Which was maybe not
entirely
truthful, but she wasn't up to explaining the subtleties of her relationship with Guido. "He's demon. He understands," she repeated.
And what he doesn't, he lives with.

"But
I
don't understand. I don't know much about demons, Des."

"Yet, you accused me of using you, in spite of your ignorance." Her tone was light, but Des was unable to meet his eyes for a moment. The look on his face the other night was burned into her memory, the
fury
there
.

Des was damn good at pretending to be blasé. One had to be to survive in the Saandon—where any weakness marked you forever as prey—but she'd never grown used to pain. Emotional or otherwise.

Those mesmerizing eyes of his were narrowed when she finally looked up again. "Was I wrong then?" he asked softly. "You
didn't
use what you are on me? Not at all?"

"Not like that."

His hand tightened on her waist. His fingers dipped inadvertently under the already low back of her dress. Those warm, slightly rough fingertips running over the sensitive dimples at the base of her spine. Des sucked in a breath as her demon roared to life.

The spark of heat between them flared like a lit match on a pool of gasoline. 

Scott yanked his hand back as if she’d burned him for real. Staring at his fingers, staring at her as he stepped back. His breathing had turned fast and harsh.

"Like what then? Like
this?
Is this you…messing with me? Tell me right fucking now." He sounded as much confused as angry. Confused and lost, and pissed at the world. Particularly her.
Again.

"I never force people to feel lust, even to feed the demon. That's not who I am." Despite herself, Des' voice was shaky.

She hadn't forced his desire, she was sure of it. Then or now. His lust was his own, but what had just happened…..

That was not normal. Not even a little bit.

"I think that is exactly what you are. Whether you admit it or not." He held up his hands, taking another step back. As if to ward her off, as if she were…

A demon.

Des wrapped her arms around herself.

"It was a bad idea to come here." Scott’s hands fisted at his sides, the big muscles in his shoulders standing out under his dark shirt, straining the fabric.

She nodded numbly. "Yes, Johnny, apparently it was."

The warm wall at her back told her Guido had returned. The big demon had been watching their every move. Typical.

“The human bothering you again, Dee?”

“Nothing bothers me, Guido. You taught me that." She leaned into him anyway, belying the words. Scott stared at them both, his jaw tight.

The heat, that baffling spark of connection between her and this prickly man had fizzled before she could get a handle on it; leaving her cold, shaken and more than a little sad.

"Ah, but he bothers me,
polteriitae saed.
His smell offends." Guido flicked his fingers at Scott as if shooing away an annoying insect. "Go away, human. Before I have you thrown out...or worse."

Scott straightened, his green gaze going hard. "Try it, demon."

The fine hairs on her forearms prickled and a weird power crackled in the air. Des remembered her Johnny wasn't merely human, but a
para.

Apparently a damn powerful one.

Outside, the trees lining one side of the club started to moan, like a storm was approaching. The smell of earth teased Des’ nose as Scott's eyes flashed once, jagged light streaking through the deep green irises. She sucked in a breath. Branches scratched and tapped at the windows as if trying to get in. At her back, Guido tensed.

The mostly human crowd on the floor appeared oblivious. One lift of Guido’s chin and two of the black-suited men behind the bar cut through the writhing bodies toward them, hands slipping under jackets. An ominous groan rumbled outside. A few dancers looked around curiously.

She stepped forward, one hand on Guido’s chest as she reached the other towards Scott. "Stop it! Johnny, just go. Like you said, bad idea. Don't go making it worse."

His attention shifted from Guido to her. For several long heartbeats they stared at each other. She had no clue what he was thinking, but tears sprang to her eyes at the emotions so clearly ravaging him.

Rage, loneliness, guilt. Lust. Rage.
Guilt.

Scott was the first to turn away. He headed for the door.

"Don't come back, bestia." Guido said, the warning in his voice clear. "Whatever you are, believe me, it is not enough. If you seek out Desdemona again, be prepared to answer to me."

Scott froze, but didn't turn. Des held her breath, watching tension roll through that powerful back.

Slowly, as if forcing himself, Scott’s shoulders relaxed. The
para
continued to the door without looking back. He disappeared through it as the world outside seemed to sigh and settle.

Des let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

She rubbed her arms hard, ridding them of dozens of goosebumps. What the hell
was
he?

"That was strange. I've never felt the like before." Guido stared after the
para
. "I don't like him, Dee. Can I kill him?"

"No." Des gave a shaky laugh, putting her hand on his arm. "You can't kill every human who bothers me, Guido."

"Why not?" He turned back to her with that hard smile that made so many tremble in fear.

Not that her Johnny had.

When he’d looked at Guido at all, Scott had treated him like a mildly annoying insect. Not even worth swatting at. At least until there at the end, when he'd gotten pissed enough to show a bit of his true self. There'd never been a trace of fear in him.

And Guido scared
everyone.

She shivered again before tearing her eyes from the door.

"Because then I'd miss seeing you get all uptight and macho,
korso iinco
. It's terribly amusing."

He barked out a laugh. "Shall we finish our dance?"

"Yes, let's. Forget the human."

Those last words were directed more at herself than Guido. Des had a feeling it was going to be damn hard to follow her own advice.