Heart of the Demon (14 page)

“I’m fine. I’d be better if you’d hurry it up,” Keira gasped, her eyes bright, her hands sliding around him to clutch at his
back.

Finn laughed, a short, sharp burst of sound from a throat tight with need. With a hard flex of his hips, he buried his cock
deeper. It had been like this the first time they’d come together. Their joining brought him pure ecstasy. It was all he could
do to keep from ravaging her. Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue against the taut peaks of her breasts. The action tightened
her body around him even more.

“I feel full, like you’re part of me,” she whispered. “But I want more, Finn. I want all of you.” She slid her hands from
his back down to grasp his buttocks.

“Me, too,” he gritted his teeth and surged forward. Her sheath was slick, hot, velvet-soft, and so tight it was about to kill
him. He buried himself deep, withdrew, thrust again with slow, easy strokes. He watched her face. When he saw passion glazing
her eyes, heard her soft pants, carnal pride filled him with satisfaction. He loved seeing that look on her face, loved knowing
he was the one putting it there.

Finn pumped his hips faster, gliding in and out of her, deeper with each stroke. God, she felt so good. So tight and hot and
wet. He tilted her so he could thrust even deeper, wanting her to accept every last inch of him, as if by her body accepting
his she could look past the facade he presented to the world and see
him
.

He buried himself to the hilt and moved his hand to her swollen clit. In seconds he felt the spasms of her climax beginning.
“I’ve never felt like this.” He needed her to know how he was feeling, what she meant to him. “Ever since I had you that first
time, I’ve thought about only you.”

Her dark blue gaze snagged his. Desire and something deeper flared in her eyes. “I need you, Finn.” Her fingers dug into his
buttocks as her hips rose to meet his. Soft gasps escaped her as his hips surged forward, his rhythm faster. Harder.

With her silky wetness wrapped around him, he was beyond any pretense of control. He moved his hand against her clit again,
and Keira cried out. Her body bowed, heels digging into the mattress, fingers digging into his flesh. Finn felt the strength
of her inner muscles gripping him in the intensity of her orgasm. He pumped into her frantically, the explosion ripping from
his balls through the top of his head.

When he could make his mind work rationally again, he eased out of her, groaning as her inner muscles clung to his sated cock.
He tucked her against his side and blew out a sigh. Finally he had her where he wanted her—in his arms, limp and sated.

“Can you stay?” Keira’s voice, soft and sleepy, held hesitancy.

The only other time they’d had sex, she’d been reluctant to have him stay, mumbling something to the effect that snuggling
allowed emotions to creep in and ruin a good thing. Finn was a little shocked, but happy, that now she wanted him to linger.
He wanted Keira like he’d wanted no other in all his years, even with the doubt this rogue business had thrown into the mix.
They couldn’t go on ignoring it, and he knew they eventually needed to talk about it. But not now.

Now he was going to hold his woman. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “I’d like to stay,” he murmured. When she rubbed
her cheek against his chest and then placed a kiss on his shoulder, he let out a sigh of contentment.

After a few moments of silence, she said, “This is nice.”

“Hmm.” He pressed his mouth to her temple.

She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. Slender fingers stroked his side in an absentminded caress. “I used to think if
we spent time like this, cuddling after sex, it would complicate things.”

“And now?”

“Now I think cuddling after sex will definitely complicate things.” Her smile was tinged with sadness. “But I can’t help myself.
I’m addicted to you, I guess.”

“You’re not alone in that.” Finn stroked his fingers through her hair before wrapping several thick strands around his hand.
It was like holding silken fire in his palm.

He hadn’t been averse to their relationship growing more intense, no matter what he might have told himself. But he’d never
really been certain how she felt about him. He wasn’t willing to risk his emotions only to have her reject him. He’d gotten
enough rejection from his father over the years to know he didn’t want more of the same from a lover. Treading lightly was
called for. “I care about you, Keira. You have to know that.”

She rested her face against his chest. “Sometimes I think you do, but then I’m not sure.” The warmth of her sigh drifted over
his skin.

“Be sure.” He tightened his arms around her a moment. He wanted to ask her what she was doing in the rogue group, wanted to
come clean about his own role.

He especially wanted to confess to her that he wasn’t capable of the cold-bloodedness she thought he was, but then he’d have
to reveal that Caine was still alive. He’d also have to reveal the only reason he was part of the group was to stop Liuz at
Caine and Lucifer’s behest. But he couldn’t take the chance. She had joined this group for a much different reason and he
wouldn’t have his mission, and his chance at freedom, be ruined. Rising up on one elbow, he smiled as she grumbled at being
dislodged from her comfortable position. He stared down into her lovely face. “We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I,”
he said. “We both have, or have had, occupations that have us walking a fine line between right and wrong. Some of your empathic
abilities mirror abilities I’ve honed over the years.” He wasn’t going to tell her he was a chameleon demon without consulting
Lucifer. It wasn’t like he needed his father’s permission, but being demon was like being a member of a secretive sect, so
he wanted to make sure he wasn’t divulging the wrong information. “I know that there are reasons we shouldn’t be together.
But for now, don’t ask me to walk away from you, Keira.”

She cocked an eyebrow and the smile that curved her lips bounced in her eyes. “Didn’t I ask you to stay only a few minutes
ago?”

Finn’s lips twitched and he settled back against the pillows. “That you did.” He sensed the good in her, the part that wanted
to leave the old life behind. A goodness that he could use in his life. Her beauty—of face, body, and spirit—did for him what
the paintings at the art gallery did. Gave him peace among the violence he was surrounded with every day. Above that, though,
he was attracted to her for her sense of humor, her wry wit. Even her habit of poking fun at him held him enthralled. But
for the sake of the mission, he had to remain silent.

“Look, why don’t we—” He broke off as his cell phone rang. He sent her an apologetic look and rolled out of bed to retrieve
it from the back pocket of his jeans. A glance at the display showed him it was Nix. “Excuse me,” he said to Keira and moved
a few feet away. With his back to her he connected the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“We need to see you,” the half demon, half vampire said in a no-nonsense voice. But he heard the underlying tension in her
tones. “Now.”

That tone of voice was one he couldn’t argue with, but he did anyway. “Can’t it wait?”

“It can’t. Get here as soon as you can.”

“I’ll be right there.” He ended the call and turned to face Keira, meeting her questioning gaze. She’d moved to the edge of
the bed, as unconcerned with her nudity as he was with his. “I have to go. It’s something to do with Lucifer.” He quickly
dressed then came to stand in front of her and rested his hands on her slender shoulders. Then he bent and pressed his mouth
to hers, once. Twice. Three times before he tore himself away. “God above, you’re addicting.” He lightly rubbed his thumb
over her lips. “I’ll see you later.”

As he made his way to his motorcycle, he cursed the interruption even while he felt grateful for it. He was never one who’d
been comfortable talking about his feelings, and it was even worse now that things were so mixed up.

The next week and a half could not go by fast enough, though he knew the danger would escalate. And when this was all over,
and he’d been shown to be a fraud where the rogues were concerned, what would that mean for him and Keira?

K
eira stood at the door, in jeans and a T-shirt, the tile floor cold against the soles of her bare feet, and watched Finn swing
one long leg over his bike. She’d wanted to tell him she’d joined the rogue group at Caladh’s request, that she was one of
the good guys. By all the gods how she had wanted to confess. She wished she could explain that she was there to stop them,
not help them, that in order to put an end to Stefan’s idiocy she had to assist them in the short term. She wanted more than
what they had, but she couldn’t risk the mission, or her heart. She believed him when he said he cared for her. She could
see that in the way he looked at her, the tenderness he displayed while they were together. But Finn only thought of himself
and would never be able to give her what she needed emotionally. She had to be prepared to be the one to walk away when the
relationship stalled, which she was almost certain it would do.

Even as she believed that deep down, where it counted, Finn was good in spite of the violence that surrounded him, she also
believed he didn’t want to change. And until he figured that out about himself, she couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t betray
her if she told him the truth. So she’d kept quiet.

And it wasn’t as if she was the only one with secrets. She watched him rev up his bike, the sound echoing throughout the neighborhood.
When he waved at her, she summoned a smile and lifted her hand in farewell. Of everyone she knew Finn was the best at skullduggery.
As he pulled away from the curb, the thought of following him to see what he was up to flitted across her mind. Before she
could talk herself out of it, she turned back inside, locking the front door behind her, and grabbed her purse as she headed
to the garage. Because she was barefoot she had to move the driver’s seat forward before she could back out. Within a few
seconds, she was heading down the road after him.

She did her best to keep a few cars between them so he wouldn’t know he was being followed. She’d never really done this before,
but she watched a lot of television. When he turned into a subdivision, she pulled over to the curb and waited a few seconds,
her heart pounding like bongo drums in her throat, before she made the same turn.

It took a few minutes of driving around the neighborhood before she saw his motorcycle parked in front of a territorial-style
house. The outside was adobe with an arched entryway leading to a large courtyard. The front door was red and had just swung
open as Keira stopped across the street. She didn’t recognize the woman who greeted Finn, but they didn’t act like lovers.
She was glad of that. The two of them might not have made any declarations of love, but they had made progress. She didn’t
like the idea that he might love or care for someone else.

Of course, he would never have sex with her while he was in love with another woman. He, at times, seemed more werewolf than
demon, because he was as faithful a hound as any wolf she knew.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear what was going on inside, she made a mental note of the address and drove back to the
main road. Caladh hadn’t been returning her calls, and she not only wanted to talk to him about the misgivings she was beginning
to have about this whole thing, but she also wanted to find out what was going on, why she suddenly seemed persona non grata
with him. Maybe if she could corner him at council headquarters he’d agree to set a meeting with her, just to get her out
of his hair.

Her agenda set, Keira drove to the main council building and parked in the rear. She stepped out onto the pavement in her
bare feet and popped the trunk with her remote. She reached inside and pulled out a pair of yellow heels. Because she sometimes
needed to take off her shoes to feel the earth beneath her feet, and she’d ended up losing more than one pair that way, she
always kept a few extra in the trunk. Now she was glad she had.

After donning the shoes, she walked around to the front of the building. As she pushed open the door, she immediately had
to step to one side as a black-clad security officer pushed past her. Other security guards milled around the entrance to
the main chamber. Voices came from the big room, some shouting, and she thought she also heard weeping.

One of the officers, a big fey warrior named Conal, walked past her and locked the front door. On his way back he stopped
and frowned down at her. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I wanted to see Councilor Caladh,” she said. She glanced around at the chaos. “What’s going on here?”

“You’ve arrived just in time for us to go on lockdown,” he said. “Lucky you.”

She shot a look at the door and then stared at him. “I gathered we were on lockdown when you locked the door, boyo,” she drawled,
trying to hold on to her patience. “Why are we on lockdown?”

“Deoul has been murdered.”

Shock ripped through her. The president of the council was dead? Murdered!

Conal motioned to one of the guards. “Stay with her,” he instructed and walked into the main chamber.

“Wait!” Keira took two steps forward only to be stopped by the guard’s big hand wrapped around her arm.

“Sorry, miss,” he said. From his scent she surmised he was a feline shapeshifter—a lion, she thought, though of the African
or American variety she couldn’t say. She’d always had trouble sorting them out until, of course, they actually changed into
their animal forms.

“Fine,” she muttered, jerking her arm from his grasp. “Can I at least sit down?” She motioned to the row of chairs against
the wall nearest the door.

“Of course.”

Keira sat down. Who could have done this? At least she knew it hadn’t been Finn, because he’d been with her all morning. Relief
that he wasn’t involved was short-lived as she began wondering who might have committed the crime. She tried to get a glimpse
into the main chamber. She thought she saw a couple of liaisons inside the room, including two of the werewolf liaisons, Victoria
Joseph and Bartholomew Asher. Then the guards at the door closed ranks, making anything more than their large brutish bodies
impossible to see. They moved again, and Caladh walked out. Blood streaked the front of his white council robe and covered
his hands.

She shot to her feet. “Caladh!” She started toward him, only to be stopped again by the burly guard. “Get out of my way, you
damned beastie,” she grated.

“It’s all right, Jeff,” Caladh said. To Keira he replied, “It’s not my blood. It’s Deoul’s.” He paused, his face pallid. “He’s
dead.” He raised liquid brown eyes to hers. “Someone killed him. I went into the chamber to…” He shook his head. “He was lying
on the floor, covered in blood. I tried to save him.” He stared at his hands. “I tried.”

She went over and took him by the arm. “Come over here and sit down,” she said. She looked at Jeff. “Sorry about the damned
beastie thing.”

“No problem.” His slight smile lightened the tension on his face for a moment. “But you need to stand back from him, miss.”

“Oh, right.” No sense in contributing to cross-contamination or whatever the hell it was called. She helped Caladh to a chair and then sat down herself, keeping an empty chair between
her and the councilor. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He shook his head then stiffened before turning toward her. His scowl brought some color to his pale face. “Later, when we
can talk in private,” he muttered so low she had trouble hearing him, “you can explain why you came here. For now”—he looked
at the guard—“Jeff, make Miss O’Brien comfortable in the employee lounge, would you? She doesn’t need to be mixed up in all
of this.”

“Yes, sir.” Jeff motioned down the hallway. “This way, miss.”

Keira stood and walked with him down the hall, casting one last glance over her shoulder to see Caladh sitting by himself,
shoulders straight, eyes staring in front of him, while activity took place all around him. The calm in the eye of the storm.

Had Deoul’s murder been at Stefan’s instigation? It seemed too coincidental for it not to have been.

By Dagda’s balls, would any of them make it out of this mess alive?

Finn accepted the bottle of chilled beer Caine handed him.

“Tori just called to let Nix know that Deoul was murdered at council headquarters.” Caine walked toward an overstuffed armchair
across from the sofa Finn was on.

“Murdered!” Finn leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “By whom?”

Caine shrugged. “With all the prets that are in and out of there, it’s impossible to know at the moment. But it certainly
underscores the importance of what we’re doing, and the need to keep it a secret, wouldn’t you say?” He shook his head and
sat down. “It can’t be a coincidence that the council president was taken out three days after my ‘murder.’”

Nix perched on the plump arm of his chair, and he reached behind her. From the way he moved, Finn assumed Caine was stroking
his hand across her back. It was the penultimate picture of wedded bliss. Finn was actually happy for them.

“No, I imagine Liuz is behind this.”

“And no one besides the three of us and Lucifer know what we’re doing?” Caine stared at Finn, his gaze implacable. “Everyone
must
think you’ve joined the pret group as a viable, energetic member. One who will do what’s necessary to further the group’s
cause.” He let out a low sigh. “I don’t even know who on the council I can trust. I think I can trust Caladh, but I’m not
sure about anyone else, so at this point I haven’t shared anything with anyone.”

“I haven’t told anyone, either.”

“Not even your friend Keira?”

He stared at Caine and took a swig of beer. “What part of ‘I haven’t told anyone’ did you not understand?”

“I’m just making sure,” the vampire said. He leaned back against his chair, relaxed and at ease.

“Though my father did tell Betty.”

“What?” Caine sat up, no longer so relaxed.

Nix also straightened. “Wait, what?” Her gaze narrowed on Finn. “So you’re telling me that Lucifer really is your father,
like all the rumors say?”

Finn merely raised a brow and took another sip of beer.

She looked at Caine. “Did you know?” she asked.

He glanced up at her. “Lucifer told me several months ago.”

At the dark look Nix shot her husband, Finn figured Caine should’ve kept that last little bit to himself.

Eyes flashing with demon fire, Nix jumped to her feet. “Let me make sure I have this straight. Several months ago my mother’s
boyfriend told you that Finn was his son, and you didn’t tell me? You know I’ve been wondering about that.”

“It wasn’t my story to tell, honey.” Caine tugged her down onto his lap. Finn noticed that she didn’t put up much of a fight.
“It was Finn’s.”

She turned her glare on Finn. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I like to keep you guessing, little cousin. It keeps your mind sharp.”

She let out an aggrieved sigh. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. Don’t call me that.”

“The more you tell him not to, the more he’ll do it,” Caine murmured. “If he doesn’t get a rise out of you, there’s no more
fun to be had, and he’ll let it go.”

“He’s also right here, listening to you.” Finn tipped the bottle to his lips and chugged several deep mouthfuls of beer. “Don’t
you pay him any attention, Nix. I like calling you ‘little cousin.’ And just think, if our parents ever get around to getting
married, I can call you ‘little sister.’”

“Aargh.” Nix struggled off her husband’s lap and glared at Finn, though he could see humor lurking in her eyes. “You are a
pain in my ass, you know that?” She sidestepped Caine’s attempt to haul her back down. “I’m going to make myself a grilled
cheese sandwich and some tomato soup. You”—she pointed at Finn—“can go out to eat. And you,” she said to her husband, her
expression softening, “can come get a bite whenever you want to.”

Finn watched her walk away. He was used to rubbing Nix the wrong way, and he ordinarily didn’t care what she or anyone else
thought about him. But he cared what Keira thought. She was light to his darkness, a breath of fresh air in the squalidness
he found himself in day after day. He had to battle back unfamiliar guilt at deceiving her. What a mess he was in.

“There’s something else you should know,” Caine said.

“There usually is.” Finn finished his beer and leaned forward to put it on the coffee table. Then he sat back and crossed
his legs, resting his ankle on the opposite knee.

“Liuz is Tori Joseph’s cousin.”

Finn shifted against the sofa. “I’m sure I misheard you. What the hell did you say?”

“Stefan Liuz, known as Natchook ot Renz in the other dimension, was a cousin to Sirina lan Maro. After the rift, Sirina became
Victoria Joseph.”

“And you didn’t think I should know that little fact when you asked me to infiltrate the group?” Finn pushed to his feet.
“And you were worried about maintaining secrecy with me. I don’t see how Tori will sit back and let her cousin be captured.
She has to know he won’t let himself be taken alive.”

Caine shook his head. “No, he won’t. But Tori’s learned her lesson. She won’t interfere in what has to be done.”

“What do you mean?”

The vampire glanced toward the kitchen. “Natchook…Liuz is the one who caused Nix to be turned.”

Finn had heard the story, or part of it at any rate. He’d known that Nix had been attacked and that Caine had turned her in
order to save her life. He hadn’t known that Stefan Liuz was the one who’d savaged her. “And Tori knows this?”

“She does now.” Caine took a breath and blew it out. “Her brother went rogue a few months back and killed or turned half a
dozen people or so. Including Dante MacMillan’s sister.”

Finn let out a low whistle. “I’d heard about all of that when it was happening, of course. Liuz was involved?”

Caine nodded. “Tori’s brother was doing it as a way to prove his worth to Liuz.” He sighed again. “Believe me, she knows better
than to stand in the way. Liuz has been responsible for the loss of many lives in his quest for power, and there’s only one
penalty to pay.”