As she gathered herself, Mira struggled to explain her odd reactions to the man outside the door. Her ever-wary survivor instincts took a hiatus around him. There was no rational reason, but somehow her wounded soul trusted him. The same instinct had made her less aggressive in her struggles at the club and again here at his apartment. Like she’d completely lost control of her own defenses. And that scared the living bejesus out of her.
Christ! This needs to stop, the sooner the better.
She shook her head to dispel the crazy thoughts. He didn’t control her. No one did.
The doorbell rang, followed by a muffled exchange of pleasantries. The sound of plates rattling in the nearby kitchen was soon accompanied by tantalizing aromas of baked cheese and roasted veggies wafting through the air. Her stomach issued a loud growl, overriding her warring emotions. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Mouth watering, Mira gave herself one more check in the mirror before heading in search of dinner.
• • •
Pizza box in hand, Kagan turned to find Mira exiting the bathroom. He swallowed hard. Her damp hair curled around her face, and his shirt bagged on her small frame. Mira chewed on her bottom lip and his breath snagged, his traitorous tongue more than eager to salve the tiny wound. Her quiet voice held a small quiver of apprehension, despite their earlier truce. “Thought I smelled food.”
Kagan shook his head, cursing his raging libido.
Cristo, get yourself under control!
With as much charm as he could muster, Kagan bent forward in a mock bow and rose with a grin. “Dinner is served, madam.”
He headed to the fridge for more drinks, pausing to chuckle when Mira’s stomach growled. He glanced at her over his shoulder. She shrugged, staring at the pizza. “Guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”
“I ordered it with everything since I wasn’t sure what you liked. Hopefully … ” He turned back to the table, beverages in hand. She’d already flung the box open and snatched a slice. As she devoured the food, her moans of ecstasy drifted over him, and he couldn’t help envying that piece of pizza.
Mira took another bite. A second groan escaped her, forcing Kagan to battle his ever-growing arousal. His cock pulsed against the tight confines of his jeans, and he gave a silent prayer of thanks his shirt still hung loose. Otherwise, the situation would be downright embarrassing. The poor girl was tired and hungry, and here he was lusting after her like a rutting animal.
Nice move, cazzo.
Kagan set down a fresh water bottle beside her then twisted the cap off his beer. He took a long gulp before daring to glance at Mira again.
Big mistake.
She licked the grease off her fingers and smiled up at him, unaware of his burgeoning shaft threatening to rip out his button fly.
Basta!
He slammed his bottle down and stalked to the sofa. Picking up the remote, he clicked through channels without seeing them. Xander’s voice — the voice of reason — rang through his mind.
Rule number one: Don’t fuck the target!
“Don’t you want any food? You must be hungry too,” Mira called from the table.
Kagan clicked faster.
Si,
he was hungry. He slumped into the soft leather and issued a silent prayer for strength before answering, “No, thanks.”
Mira shrugged and grabbed another piece. The late news came on.
Grazie Divinita!
Their lead story was the shooting at the club, and the reporter on scene stated one man had been shot to death. The police suspected gang involvement. Kagan relaxed, the pressure in his pants calming while he focused on the TV instead of the temptation at his kitchen table.
Then Mira crossed his line of vision to sink down on the opposite end of the sofa.
Oca!
He stared at the screen ahead, feeling her gaze on him while she ate. Kagan grabbed a toss pillow to hold atop his lap and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He searched the room for anything to draw his attention from the female beside him while he struggled to get his libido under control.
“Explain to me again why you aren’t dead?” The leather cushion hissed beneath her when she shifted.
He pushed off the sofa and walked to the kitchen to retrieve his beer. Kagan downed the remainder in one swig then pulled another from the fridge. “We’ve been over this already, Mira. I’m different.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She gave a flippant wave. “But what exactly
are
you? An alien?”
Kagan snorted. “No. I’m a Scion.”
Mira frowned. “What the hell’s a Scion? McClaine used the name too.”
A modicum of control returning, he walked back into the living room and leaned against the window ledge, still not trusting himself to sit on the sofa again. “The Scion are the immortal warriors of Divinity. We serve as she commands.” Now, his turn for questions. “Who’s McClaine?”
“Wow! Thanks for the detailed explanation. Everything’s clear as smoke now.” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “And McClaine’s the guy you killed.”
Argus’s new host was named McClaine. He filed the information away to discuss with Xander.
She pressed on. “Who’s Divinity?”
“Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it,
piccola
?” Mira shot him a glare and Kagan stifled the urge to laugh. “Divinity’s had a lot of names over the years, but she’s The One.”
“Like God?” she asked, her gaze narrowing.
“
Si
.” He set his beer on the ledge. “That’s one of the titles she uses.”
“You expect me to believe you were selected by God to serve as her immortal badass?” She crossed her arms.
“Hmm. Kagan, Immortal Badass.
Che figo
!” He laughed, ducking to avoid the balled-up napkin she threw at his head.
“You can’t die? Ever?” Her focus shifted to the view out the window.
Kagan shrugged and stared at the floor. “I’ve met my quota on deaths. Any more is up for debate. Divinity brought me back to life so —
forse —
she’s the only one able to kill me.”
“What about your wounds from earlier?” Mira studied his chest.
“Gone.” He gave her a wink.
She shook her head. “Nope, don’t believe you. I need to see.”
“Oh, a doubting Thomas, huh?” He removed his shirt, thankful his body was under control. “See,” he said, waving his hand over his shoulder. “No holes.”
He turned full circle. His smile faded when he registered her flushed face. Her pink tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and his damn cock bolted to attention.
Vaff!
His immortal
cazzo
was going for a world-record this night.
Kagan faked a huge yawn and pulled his shirt on pronto. “I’m beat.”
“What?” Mira frowned. “Hey, wait a minute. I’ve got more questions.”
“We’ll talk in the morning.” Kagan gathered up their trash. Once he’d finished, he gave her a pointed stare. “Mira, we’re both tired, and we’ll only end up saying or doing something we’ll regret, so let’s call it a night,
si
?”
Her shoulders drooped. “Fine. Where do I sleep?”
“You take the bed. I’ll stay on the sofa.” Kagan shut off the lights in the kitchen then pulled a pillow and blanket out of the closet.
“Great. I hope you don’t snore,” she said as she climbed between the sheets of the king-sized bed.
“Nope, no snoring. Not that anybody’s complained about, anyway.” She made a face and he grinned. Kagan hit the main light switch then pulled off his shirt and boots before stretching out on the couch. “Goodnight,
piccola
.”
“What the hell does
piccola
mean anyway?”
“Little one, in Italian.” He smiled, remembering the way she swam inside his clothes.
“Umph!” He heard her punch the pillow on his bed. Soon, Mira’s soft snores filled the room. Kagan laughed out loud before settling into sleep.
Divinity waited in the chilly morning air, foot tapping beneath the small café table, a cup of dark Sumatran brew steaming before her.
“Where is he?” She glanced at her precision Swiss timepiece, her irritation mounting.
“’Ello, dearie. Miss me?”
She snapped around, staking him to the ground with a perturbed glare. “About time you arrived. I’ve been waiting here for over an hour, Devil. I’m extremely busy, and you’re beyond late!”
“Tsk, tsk.” The man set his mug on the table. “Anger doesn’t become you. And you know I prefer the ancient names.”
Divinity couldn’t care less about his preferences. “We have things to discuss, Devil.”
She looked over the latest transformation of her nemesis and frowned. His latest choice of façade was a dapper young man with wavy dark hair, although Lucifer’s eyes remained unchanged. Wicked eyes filled with the fire of damnation. Which human had he corrupted to possess such an innocent face?
“Like it?” He glanced up, catching her mid-perusal. “Little bugger hardly fought at the end, only wailed like an infant. Abject surrender ruins the enjoyment, you know?” Lucifer smirked, his low whisper full of mock disappointment as he surveyed her with an impassive glance. “You look the same as always, dearie. The eternal mother of all, only sexier.”
She glared, leaning across the table, her temper sizzling. “I want your word you’ll adhere to the Agreement.”
“Ah, the Agreement. I’d forgotten.” He watched her over the rim of his mug, his obsidian gaze sardonic. “What was I was supposed to do again?”
Her glacial fury would have frozen a lesser being solid. As it was, the edges of his three-piece ensemble merely steamed a bit. Divinity allowed her anger to dissipate before she continued, her tone a perfect, placid lake of serenity. “You’re not
to open the Seals. Not yet. Not until everything is in place. Remember?”
“Oh, right.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes. I remember. What makes you think I’m going to break the Agreement?”
Quick as perdition, her ire returned. “Dammit, Devil! Don’t treat me as
anything
less than the omnipotent being I am. You do so at your own peril!”
His deep growl rumbled forth in answer. “Did you call me here to provoke me, woman? If so, mission accomplished.”
“Why is your demon stalking the girl?”
He met her level gaze, a red flame firing to life in his pupils. Lucifer slammed his mug on the table and a small tremor shook the ground. The humans around them scampered.
“Control yourself, Devil. Look what you did!” She gestured toward the trash and debris scattered everywhere. The once peaceful street now resembled a war zone. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“You can’t survive without me, and you know it.” He managed to look affronted, blinking his eyes in fake innocence. “Besides, who else makes your life as much fun as me?”
She regarded him like something disgusting she’d discovered on the bottom of her shoe. “What are you going to do about Argus?”
He grinned, his chin resting atop his steepled fingers. “Missing your prodigal son?”
“Argus made his own choices a long time ago. Now he must live with the consequences.” She studied him, unable to resist the pleasure of a well-placed taunt. “You of all people should understand missed opportunities, Devil.”
They stared for several long moments, neither blinking nor looking away.
At last, he picked up his coffee, his hand twitching while he brought the mug to his lips. “Argus is expendable.”
“Good. I’ve got my warriors covering the situation. They will take him down, make no mistake.” Lucifer ignored her statement, instead choosing to fuss with his suit and lament the lack of modern day quality. She waited until she’d regained his attention before continuing. “My vaults were breached. Several items were taken. Do you know anything about the thefts?”
He squinted at an overturned trashcan nearby. “Bad girl. You should be above stereotyping. If you must know, someone’s been snooping in my private lair as well. I thought maybe one of your boy-toy Scion might have been assigned the task.”
Divinity snorted. “Hardly, Devil. If you had anything I wanted, I’d simply take it.”
Lucifer stared, his lips spreading into a decadent grin. “You know how I love it when you get rough.”
She fixed him with a hard gaze. Storm clouds raged above their table and lightning flashed all around. Lucifer wiggled on his seat and adjusted his French cuffs, appearing completely undisturbed by the surrounding tempest. He relented only after a gale force wind dislodged his carefully tucked kerchief and sent it hurtling through the atmosphere in a streak of billowing crimson silk. “Fine, you have my word I won’t break your precious Agreement.”
She stood, her smile ripe with satisfaction. “Your word isn’t worth a damn, Devil. But I have the answers I came for.”
“I haven’t told you anything.” His long, black claws emerged to dig into the metal tabletop.
“You didn’t have to,
dearie
.” She strode away. The weather improved with each step she took. Before she disappeared, Divinity turned to face him one last time, her expression serious and her tone final. “Stop tormenting the girl. I know about the nightmares.”
“What nightmares?” He flashed her a guilty-schoolboy smile. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know my own spawn.”
• • •
“Mira! Mira, wake up!”
She squinted into the bright light.
“C’mon,
piccola.
It’s me, Kagan.” He studied her, his expression unreadable as she shook off the remnants of the nightmare.
“What the hell’s going on?” Her voice sounded groggy, the words clumped and sticky. She pushed into a sitting position, and the golden expanse of Kagan’s chest filled her vision. Her eyes fell to the odd mark below his navel. Not a tattoo, more like a brand. She faltered and he gave her one last, brisk shake, rattling her teeth. Her irritation levels soared. “Stop shaking me, dammit! I’m not a rag doll.”
“You were having one hell of a nightmare, Mira. I tried to wake you gently, but you didn’t respond.” His hands now rubbed the chilled skin of her arms. She warmed beneath his narrowed gaze. “What were you dreaming about? Your screams could’ve woken the dead.”
“I don’t remember.” Mira stared at the white sheets.
Liar
.