Through a Crimson Veil (12 page)

“Why would the demon that fathered me—or his family for that matter—want me?” Conor asked. His eyes blazed.

Mika took a deep breath, needing to say this right. “All demon children I’ve ever seen are loved and wanted. Every baby is considered a gift and treated that way. If for some reason the child’s family is incapable of caring for them, there are many others willing to raise and love them.”

Conor didn’t say anything. His arms held most of his weight, but that kept him too far away. Putting her hands on his shoulders, Mika tugged him close. “But they would want you because you’re you.”

“Right. And then I could have grown up feeling invisible in two worlds the way you did.” The skepticism in his voice annoyed Mika, but she decided not to argue.

“I want to be on top, not underneath,” she said instead. Since sex wasn’t involved, he’d be able to tolerate it.

Bemusedly McCabe shook his head, probably wondering where the hell that had come from, then rolled. As he stopped moving, Mika settled herself on his chest. With a sigh, she said, “You wouldn’t have had to deal with feeling like a shadow in Orcus.” She watched his face, but his expression didn’t change. “You’re half Kiverian. That would have overcome your human heritage in the minds of most demons.” She smiled. “Just think, we could have met years ago and been enjoying
this
.” She rotated her pelvis against his, and his hands went to her hips to hold her still.

His eyes were wide, his voice hoarse. “Damn, Mika, does it always come down to sex with you?”

She sobered. Though it would leave her vulnerable again, she answered honestly. “Only with you.”

Mika lowered her head to rest it on his chest, ignoring
his unspoken demand that she explain. Let him keep guessing. There was no way she was telling him about the vishtau yet, not when he’d feel it necessary to fight such a demonic thing even more strenuously than he was already.

Besides, they’d already covered a lot of ground, much more than she’d expected, and she needed to think. Needed to find some way to keep Conor from despising her for her betrayal. For he would hate her when he found out that she’d lied to him; she had no illusion about it.

No, he probably wouldn’t discover it until after she left, but even then, she wanted him to remember her with affection, not hate. And the most important thing was that he believe that her touching him was never part of the lie. She knew him better now, and thinking she’d been
that
dishonest with him would shut McCabe down more than he was already.

She stroked his right biceps. No matter what she had to do, she couldn’t let her promise to the Council hurt Conor.

Mika had finally fallen asleep. Conor knew he was a long way from that. It had to be close to noon, but it didn’t matter; his head was too full of her. And everything she’d said—hell, everything he’d said.

What the hell had he been thinking? He never shared anything as personal as what he’d told her. Not with anyone. Not even with Ben. And if he tried to blame it on some demon spell, she would laugh at him. Conor scowled. It hadn’t been a Mahsei power that had made him talk; he knew that. It was simply Mika.

He levered himself up on his elbow to look at her. The blanket he’d covered them with had slipped to her waist, and he carefully tugged it over her arms to keep her warm. He should carry her to bed. The floor was uncomfortable and she’d be stiff when she woke, but selfishly he wanted her next to him. Almost involuntarily, his hand reached out
and smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek. Her skin was soft, warm, and he lingered for a moment, studying her.

Her lips were curved, as if she were amused by her dreams, but because her eyes were closed, he couldn’t see the mischief that usually danced there. She was incredibly changeable—laughing one moment, serious the next, and always getting underneath his skin one way or the other.

He’d never met anyone like her.

For sure he’d never met anyone who affected him the way she did. Emotion: It was his enemy and Mika made him feel too damn much, too damn intensely. There were no low or medium settings with her. Whether anger, arousal, humor, frustration or anything else he could name, hers were full-out, super-charged emotions. The damn woman tied him in knots.

Only with you.
Just the memory of her saying that was enough to kick up his heart rate. Since they’d met, her actions had been sexual; he hadn’t considered the possibility that her behavior with him would be unique.

He was reading too much into it. His desire to be special was giving her words a nuance she hadn’t intended. But telling himself that didn’t help. Besides, what else could she have meant except that it was different between them?

He ran his fingers lightly over her cheek again. The need to touch her sometimes overwhelmed him, and he guessed she was right about the inevitability of them becoming lovers. But Conor intended to fight anyway. When things were intimate between them, his control became too tenuous. He couldn’t afford to lose his self-command.

She’d said he wouldn’t have to be careful with her. That he could be himself. It was another memory that sent him into overdrive. A memory that tempted him to drop his restraint.

He’d damn near lived like a monk for the past two years. Sex had become almost more work than it was worth, and he’d taken to waiting until the urge was undeniable. There
was too much he had to be cautious about. He couldn’t let his eyes glow or it would show through his contact lenses. He’d had to fight the need to bite, and had restrained his strength to ensure he didn’t hurt the woman he was with.

Everything would be different with Mika. Her eyes glowed the same as his and she liked it when he bit her. Hell, she’d demanded that he bite her. Conor ran a hand over his mouth, trying to wipe away the unexpected smile, and shook his head.

Could he really have her as he wanted? She’d said yes, but Mika was finely built. It was difficult to imagine her withstanding his force. Such thoughts had his unruly body reacting and he had another damned hard-on. The state seemed to be perpetual since Mika had first smiled at him on that darkened street.

She turned toward him, her hand landing on his abs and her fingers flexing against his bare skin. “Go to sleep,” she murmured. “Rest.”

“How long have you been awake?” he asked.

Her eyes didn’t open, but her smile grew. She put a leg across him and her thigh sandwiched his erection. “Not long.” She yawned. “And I plan on going right back to sleep. Unless, of course, you give me a good reason not to.” She squeezed.

Conor didn’t say anything, and in a few moments, her breathing became even. It wouldn’t take long until she was out again. “Mika,” he said. He kept his voice low.

“Hmm?”

She was almost asleep. Good. He couldn’t ask this while she was aware. It would be too embarrassing if she knew he was this needy, too dangerous to put this kind of weapon into her hands. He’d already trusted her with too much. But she was so drowsy, Conor doubted she’d recall anything he said now. “Am I really the only man you’ve reacted to like this? Sexually?”

“Mmm-hmm. Only you, Conor,” she murmured.

Something inside him eased. It was odd for a paid killer,
a bodyguard, a hard man to admit, but all his life he’d wanted to be important to someone else. Maybe he finally was. Maybe.

Mika stretched and swallowed a groan. Honestly, she needed to get McCabe in bed with her ASAP. One more night on the floor or his narrow couch, and she was going to be hobbling.

She sat up, massaged the crick in her neck and tried to locate him. It wasn’t a surprise to wake up alone; as contained as Conor was, he must be appalled at how much he’d revealed. Especially with that last question, the one Mika bet he wished she wouldn’t remember. The one
she
wished she didn’t remember.

Propping her elbows on her thighs, she dropped her head into her hands. All along she’d told herself this assignment wasn’t a game, yet that was exactly how she’d treated it. The lure of playing covert agent had been irresistible. Her other reason for agreeing to do this was just as self-serving. Finding her vishtau mate. The idea of protecting her people, of protecting her family, only arose when she needed to justify her actions.

She hadn’t considered for even a minute what she’d be doing to Conor. He was a big, tough Kiverian male. Maybe she’d thought he was indestructible—emotionally, at least.

Mika knew differently now. When he found out what she’d done, it would destroy something inside of him, something that barely managed to cling to life. His mother hadn’t killed it but Mika just might. She rubbed her temples. How could she keep from devastating him?

Not completing her mission wasn’t an option; she’d given her word. And even if she hadn’t, there
was
her family and the other residents of Orcus to consider. Maybe she hadn’t thought of them very much before this, but they definitely needed to be factored in. She couldn’t let their wills become enslaved. What if McCabe decided to wield that incantation? To pit demon against demon in death
matches? Mika didn’t think he would—that wasn’t the kind of man he was—but she wasn’t completely sure. He hated his father so intensely, it colored his view of all demons. What would he do because of that?

She was going to hurt Conor—it was inevitable now—but she had to make sure she didn’t annihilate his inner light. The only idea she had on how to do this was to hang around and face the music. He’d be furious at her for stealing his incantation, but at least he’d know she cared about him enough to weather his wrath.

It wasn’t much of a plan. She’d have to keep thinking until she came up with a better one. But at least she hadn’t found the spell yet. She still had time.

A shimmer of something strummed at her senses, but she ignored it when she heard water in the bathroom turn off. Mika slowly straightened. Conor was going to feel uncomfortable when he saw her, and there was nothing she could do to make it easier for him.

With a soft groan, she stood and stretched. When she felt like she could walk, she headed for the bedroom to gather up some clean clothes. Since she’d hung her clothing by type, then sorted it by color, it was easy to find what she wanted. She picked a pair of jeans that were faded nearly white and frayed a bit at the ankles, and a longsleeved, fuchsia T-shirt. She heard more water running in the bathroom and sighed. Conor would be a while longer.

Mika dug her comm unit out of her purse and stared at it. She should have monitored her voicemail every day, but she hadn’t wanted to hear a message from the Council’s minion. She couldn’t put this off any longer, though. Reluctantly she checked the display and found two messages. Heart sinking, she hit play.

The first was from her dad. Sitting on the bed, she punched the button to connect to him, and ended up having to leave her own voicemail instead. Just as well. He might hear an edge in her tone and figure something was going on.

Returning to her voicemail box, she went on to the second message. And felt the blood drain from her face. It was from the Council’s servant—he wanted to meet with her. Tonight. He gave her the time and place, and Mika closed her eyes. She hit the button to replay the message, wanting to make sure, but he named every code and password that the Council had given her. Because of the intrigue in Orcus, they’d used a complex system, and it was unlikely that someone had broken it.

Damn. She hadn’t done a very good job setting up her cover story to get out of the house, and she was going to have to use it. With a little luck, Conor wouldn’t look too closely. If he did, she’d have to lie some more.

She tucked her unit back into her purse and took a deep breath. Conor still seemed to be occupied, so she decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

When he was home, he kept his comm unit near his desk, and with a quick glance at the closed bathroom door, she picked it up. Running her finger counterclockwise over the power chip, she drained the charge. She’d never seen him check the level before leaving the house, and she had to hope that held true today too.

Slipping the unit carefully back into place, Mika took another deep breath. There, she’d done it. And she felt guilty as hell.
I’m sorry, Conor,
she thought, but she didn’t dare say the words aloud.

What was McCabe up to in the bathroom anyway? As she gently used her mind to probe, her head jerked up. Their watcher was back. He was outside.

Mika burst into the bathroom, surprising Conor.

“What the fu—”

“Conor!” She cut him off. “The watcher is outside!”

He tossed his razor on the counter, grabbed a towel and wiped the remaining shaving cream off his face. Although she tried not to let her attention wander, Mika couldn’t help but notice that the only thing covering him was the towel around his waist. The man’s legs were so muscular that the edges of the terry cloth didn’t meet and she had a view of his left thigh. She licked her lips.

He concentrated for a moment. “I can’t pick him up. Which direction?”

Mika jerked her gaze from his bare skin and pointed over his left shoulder. McCabe nodded, and she could feel him mentally probe the direction she’d indicated. When he brushed past her, she guessed he’d read the partially blocked energy for himself. It continued to surprise her that an auric assassin wouldn’t be more successful at cloaking himself, but she shrugged that off and hurried after Conor.

She stopped short about two steps into the bedroom.
McCabe was naked. Mika could only see his backside, but damn, his body was a work of art. He bent over to yank on a pair of jeans and she heard a roaring in her head.

The need to make some comment—either about his world-class ass or about him going commando—became nearly impossible to resist, but she swallowed the words. As serious as the situation was, she couldn’t say either thing—not when she knew what kind of reaction she’d get. She smiled, imagining McCabe acting riled to hide his embarrassment.

While she was ogling him, he stepped into some shoes and grabbed a T-shirt, but it wasn’t until he left the bedroom that it dawned on her that he planned to face down the watcher. Mika chased after him. “Conor!”

She caught him at the kitchen door. Putting her palm against the smooth wood, she pushed it shut and stood blocking his exit.

McCabe seemed more puzzled than angry. He asked, “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you safe. You can’t go out there now.”

“I’ll be fine.” At the indulgent note in his voice, she tilted her head. Conor? Indulgent?

“Yeah, you will be,” she agreed, “because I’m not letting you charge out to confront an assassin who wants you dead.”

His hands lightly clasped her shoulders. “Do you have so little confidence in my abilities that you can’t trust me to go outside?”

Mika frowned at his misinterpretation. “It has nothing to do with that. I know you can take care of yourself in most circumstances, but you want to face someone—some
thing
—you know nothing about.” She reached up and curled her hands around his forearms. “You might underestimate him. You might think you can fight him the usual way, and you can’t.”

She’d been shopping with her mom in Biirkma when she’d seen one of those assassins make a hit. The results
had been horrific and she never wanted to see anything like it again, especially if her mate was the target. An auric blast was much different, much stronger, than the normal offensive magic used by demons. Mika didn’t understand how it worked, just that the energy came from two separate sources. An auric assassin could discharge a regular energy blast too, but when they decided to use this, the advantage was all theirs.

Conor nodded but said, “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah? Well, guess what, McCabe, you’d be decomposing right now if it hadn’t been for me. And don’t you forget it.” She glared at him. Sure, he was protective of her; she understood that and knew why, but he was too cavalier about his own safety. It drove her crazy.

She expected him to deny what she’d done, but he surprised her. “Believe me, honey, I appreciate that you wanted to save my ass, and I’m prepared to deal with the assassin. You don’t have to worry.”

He’d called the attacker an assassin again, which reminded her that Conor hadn’t interrogated her. Why not? He wasn’t someone who let things go. He should have started to pester her the night of the assault and kept at it until she gave him the answers he needed. But he hadn’t. That meant he knew more than he was letting on. She wasn’t going to probe yet, though—there was more important ground to cover.

“It’s easy to say you’re prepared, but how are you going to stop him if he shoots at you today? His magic pierced the protection around your house. He can sit out there and pick you off as soon as you step outside.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Conor growled. “Now stand aside and let me handle this.”

His breath tickled and Mika smiled, momentarily overcome by desire. The damn vishtau. “You get me all shivery when you grumble,” she teased.

McCabe’s curse made her lips twitch. “You’re a pain in the ass,” he muttered. Then, before she realized what he
was up to, Conor released her and walked away. She had an unobstructed view, and Mika was so busy ogling his butt that he was nearly at the main entry before it occurred to her what he intended.

Dire circumstances called for extreme measures. Mika drew on one of her powers, increasing the density of the air molecules across the threshold. She made them so heavy that even Conor wouldn’t have the strength to open the door. When he pulled and it didn’t move, she had to smother a chuckle. She saw the surprise on his face, and it amused her even more when he twisted the deadbolt a few times before trying to yank it open a second time. His biceps strained as he put everything he had into getting out of the house.

A snicker escaped her, and Conor turned with a glare. “What the hell did you do?” he demanded.

Mika crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the kitchen door. “Who, me?”

He stalked toward her, and she felt awareness shoot through her body. Damn, Conor was sexy when he moved—all masculine grace and power. When his hips pinned hers to the wall, another shiver went through her; the rough denim of his jeans against her bare thighs was incredibly arousing. She slid her arms around his neck and leaned forward, pressing her breasts against the solid wall of his chest. Turning her face up to him, she nipped at his chin.

It was McCabe’s turn to shudder. His hands tightened at her waist and he made a growling sound.

“Do those glowing eyes mean you’re angry or aroused?” she asked.

The fire in his gaze intensified. “Guess,” he said. Then he lifted her and put her to one side.

Before he had released her, Mika again blocked the door. She wasn’t letting Conor get himself killed, not if she could do anything to prevent it. He used all his strength as he twisted the knob, but the wood didn’t budge. Red sparked in his eyes when he turned to her.

“Quit playing games,” he demanded.

“This is no game.” She reached out and ran her hand fleetingly along the length of his arm. “I won’t let you die, and I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

He huffed out a long, slow breath. “You don’t get to make my decisions.”

“No. Not when…” She trailed off. It was probably stupid to remind him, but she was suddenly curious. “If you want to go outside and play so badly, why don’t you freeze my powers like you did the night we met?”

With a grimace, he looked away.

“You can’t,” she realized. “You can prevent me from wielding them, but once they’re in use, you can’t make them disappear! I’m right, aren’t I?” When he made no response, she added, “Do you have to touch me to keep me powerless, or can you do it from a distance?”

McCabe turned to her, his eyes burning. “Stop whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”

Reaching up, she fingered the ends of her hair and weighed a few factors. Finally, canting her hip slightly, she posed to accentuate her curves. “Sorry, but you’re stuck here until I decide otherwise,” she said.

His hands clenched and released at his sides as he struggled to rein in his fury. “Do as I say. Move aside.”

She rolled her eyes at his order. “Is there anything more predictable than a demon male’s response to being thwarted?” It was strictly a rhetorical question, but she knew it would make him angrier. She wanted him pissed off at her and not going outside.

It worked. She could almost see clouds of power amassing around him. A muscle jumped in his jaw. If he’d complained before about his Kiverian side pulling at the leash, it must be about ready to snap the rope by now. He was livid.

“Open the fucking door,” he said. Each word was bitten out.

With a smile, she arched her back and said, “I will, after the assassin is gone. But if you want it sooner, why don’t you come over here and make me?”

Conor moved so fast that she didn’t have time to blink. Suddenly he had her across the room and sitting atop the table. But as he stood between her parted legs, she wrapped them around him and drew him closer. McCabe looked stunned.

“You did this deliberately,” he accused.

“Ya think?”

He tried to pull away, but Mika didn’t let him. She noticed that he didn’t put much effort into a second attempt, and they both knew that if he really wanted to put distance between them he’d easily be able to break her hold. As she watched, some of the anger drained from his gaze.

“You’re trouble,” he repeated.

“Always.” She leaned forward and kissed him. At first, Conor didn’t respond, but she didn’t stop. Then the tension seeped from his body and he took control.

“Bad for me,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Maybe,” she agreed between kisses, “but at least you’re alive for a bit longer.”

McCabe’s hands found her hips and he tugged her even more firmly against him. When he had her anchored, one hand moved under her tank top and cupped her left breast. He used his thumb to tease her nipple. With a gasp of surprise, of pleasure, she sank deeper into arousal.

“Mika.”
His voice was low, husky. Seductive.

“Hmm?” She dropped her head back to give him more room to nuzzle her throat.

“Open the door.”

It took a minute, maybe two, for his request to register. As soon as it did, it popped her bubble of excitement. Mika pushed him back—not far, but she wanted to see his face. “Unfair,” she complained, but there was no heat in her voice.

He raised an eyebrow. “This again?” McCabe ignored the virtuous look she donned. “You think I don’t realize when you use our attraction to divert me? You know exactly what you’re doing when you position yourself a certain way.” Conor lightly caressed her breast.

When he removed his hand, she smiled, pleased that he knew her so well. “It worked, didn’t it? Our watcher left while you were trying to persuade me to unblock the doors.”

“What?” McCabe separated from her, faced the direction of the assassin and ran a quick scan. The watcher was gone. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, directing a glare at her.

Mika fluttered her lashes at him. “Can I help it if he didn’t hang around?”

Conor shook his head and walked to the sink. With a laugh, Mika hopped off the table and went to him. This was the second time he’d used their attraction to try to manipulate her, and she didn’t mind—well, not too much. It was a standard demonic ploy, one she’d used on him, and she thought it was encouraging that his self-command had slipped so far.

When she reached him, she hugged him from behind, snuggling her breasts into his back, and slid her hands from his waist down the front of his jeans. He caught her before she could touch him.

“Don’t start,” he warned.

“I was only going to make you more comfortable,” she said. “That zipper has to be digging into some pretty sensitive flesh.”

He cursed then laughed, and Mika smiled. The emotional warmth his nearness caused inside her expanded, filling her body till she felt as if she’d burst. “I love the sound of your laugh,” she said, and nipped his shoulder blade through his T-shirt. “I want to hear it more often.”

Immediately, Conor went still. He looked pained.

“No.” Mika gripped him harder as he tried to pull away.
She sensed his struggle. “I’m not going to push. I just want to say one thing, okay?” Conor didn’t reply, but he didn’t break away, either. Mika took that as a yes. “You’re too serious most of the time. You need to cut that out. I think I can help. Hell, if anyone knows how to have fun, it’s me. My family, the others in Orcus, they all…” Suddenly uncomfortable, Mika trailed off and broke free.

McCabe caught her before she could escape. “You wouldn’t let me get away, why do you think I’ll let you leave?” he asked.

She shrugged and tried to evade his eyes. Conor didn’t allow that, either. His palm cupped her jaw and tilted her face up until their gazes met. She couldn’t read his expression.

“They all what?”

Mika started to give some flip answer, but stopped herself. She’d made a promise that she’d be honest with Conor, and she wouldn’t hedge on the truth no matter how uncomfortable it made her, or how vulnerable she felt. Still, she wasn’t precisely sure how to respond.

After a few seconds she said, “They don’t need me. Don’t ask how I know that, either. Maybe it’s because my departures have never caused much of a ripple. My returns either. Whenever I crossed the veil…Oh, I know my human family missed me when I lived in Orcus, and my demon family missed me when I wasn’t with them, but it wasn’t like my presence was…
necessary
.” She shrugged a third time, not certain she’d explained herself.

McCabe gave her an inscrutable look. “And now you think you’re necessary to me?”

“I know I am.” On that point, Mika was positive. “You might not like it, but it’s true.”

Just as she needed him. She’d begun to recognize it. Balance. Yin and yang. Light and dark. Male and female.

Something cold settled in the pit of her stomach. Things were so black and white for McCabe that it terrified her. What would he say when he discovered her lies?
With a tremulous hand, she pushed his damp hair off his forehead.

She was in trouble.

Mika felt like a criminal when she left Conor’s house. The only thing that kept her from turning around and going back inside was picturing the Council’s reaction if she didn’t meet with their designee. She’d been able to enjoy a burger, and her freedom from house arrest, but the guilt would come roaring back when she saw McCabe again.