The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (108 page)

She burst out laughing.

He turned away and pretended interest in the wall. She laughed harder and finally hiccupped and settled down into random snorts and giggles.

“Killian?” Her voice was deceptively sweet now. She was definitely up to something. He felt her poke him in the ribs, and twitched.

He leaned on his elbow and looked down at her smiling face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glittered. Unable to resist, he traced her bottom lip with his thumb and watched her eyes widen with emotion.

“I love you so much!” Her voice cracked and she clung to him with an iron grip.

His wife had to be the wettest woman on the planet, he thought. Knowing she wouldn’t appreciate his commenting on
that
, he rubbed her back and made little comforting noises until she relaxed. Usually these tactics worked to slow the tide but not tonight. She seemed more emotional than usual.

Wonder if pregnancy hormones would make her this much worse?

Flashback to their
first
pregnancy...

Ah, hell.

“I’m sorry...” she sniffed. “I can’t help it! My emotions are a wreck!”

A wave of love and desire hit him in the chest. He glanced down at his skin and was surprised he wasn’t smoking.

“Oh, ow! Make it stop! I can’t control it!” She held out her hands for him to see.

The tips of her fingers glowed white-hot as the strength of her emotions ignited the power of the
saol
resting inside of her. It caught fire so fast that her skin hummed as the current barreled through her.

Not good.

Using his softest tone, he let his voice wash over her while he smoothed her hair away from her face. “Steady, babe. Breathe slowly...that’s better. Control the power inside of you.”

Her breathing slowed and she stopped trembling.

“That’s it. Control it.”

“Damn it. I hate when that happens! The poor kid’s going to come out Kentucky fried,” she joked dryly, but her strain came through loud and clear.

He captured her hands in his and kissed her fingertips until they faded to healthy pink skin. “Much better,” he complimented. “You’ve been doing great so far; don’t beat yourself up. You can’t help loving me more than life itself--I mean, really, look who I am.”

She nodded at him without laughing at his teasing. The forlorn expression caught at his heartstrings. It was going to be a long nine months.

Taking pity on him, she cupped his cheek and said, “Don’t panic. I’m fine. I swear. It’s the pregnancy; I’m sure of it. Now that I don’t want to puke all the time, I want to eat, cry, and smother everyone around me with love...lots and lots of love! It’s nauseating.” She shook her head and grinned like herself again. “Dec is about to dump me at the local orphanage. He’s forbidden the rental of any, and I mean any, chick flicks. Apparently he’s squeamish about the tears.”

Killian didn’t bother to hide his grin. Instead, he ran his finger over her belly and laughed at the idea of Dec suffering through endless Rom Coms with Mica sobbing happily at the end.

“Don’t let him fool you. He loves a happy ending.”

She raised an eyebrow and glanced meaningfully at his baby-making parts and asked, “And how about you, husband? Do you like a happy ending?”

Suddenly there were way too many blankets on the bed.

Astral Plane #124:

“Ow, shit!” The sound of his voice ricocheted hollowly through a forest that glittered with a million suns. The light blinded him and he held up a hand to shield his face. Peering through his fingers, he groaned with frustration.

Another dead end.

This plane couldn’t possibly support human life. Everything was glass. Crystal-like formations reared up from the earth at his feet like some mad artist shoved them into a corkboard. Leaning crookedly against one another, they dotted the landscape for as far as his eyes could see. The colors were breathtakingly brilliant as the sun beat down from above and turned them into giant prisms.

“Ow, damn it!” His boots were melting. Again. Great. Now he understood how ants felt...

Time to go. Tucking
Sgaine Eiron
to his chest once more, he closed his eyes and reached out to Aisling.

Lower Manhattan, New York:

“Another beer?” The waiter rolled up and down on the balls of his feet like he was about to take off running. His eyes darted impatiently behind him at the crowded bar. Young and arrogant, he clearly didn’t care if Killian wanted another beer or not. Looked like he was more worried about his metro hair than his job.

Just for kicks, Killian said, “Sure. And bring me another order of wings. Diablo.” He scowled at the put-out expression on the waiter’s--Mike’s--face. Leaning slightly closer, he said, “Unless you have a problem with that?”

As if noticing his customer for the first time, Mike started at his tone and swallowed a rude comeback. Killian wore his favorite faded-to-grey Candlelight Red t-shirt over faded jeans and combat boots. The comfortable clothes did nothing to hide the bulky muscles he carried around. His forearms were corded with tension as he leaned towards the snotty punk waiter.

Mike flashed a sickly smile and nodded. “Sam Adams and Diablos. Got it. Anything else...sir?”

Much better.

Killian let his mouth curl into a smile knowing it looked more like a snarl. “That’s it for now.”

He watched Metroboy rush over to the bar and stifled a grin when he peered over his shoulder with worried eyes.

“Tsk, tsk. Still so cold? I’d heard you’d mellowed. Guess those rumors were wrong.” The throaty voice was accompanied by the touch of long nails along the side of his neck. “Why don’t I melt some of that ice?”

Reaching up, he grabbed the roaming hand and dragged her around the table. His skin actually crawled and he shoved aside the disgust so it wouldn’t show on his face. The woman slid gracefully into the opposite chair and carefully, artfully, crossed long legs in a short red skirt. Her fuck-me shoes glittered with black stones that weren’t glass. She only wore the best. Black diamonds and imported silk. She was an expensive little whore.

“What do you want, Lara?” he managed without choking on the polite tone.

She tipped her face towards him, showing off her cheekbones and wide eyes. Her red mouth was pulling out all the stops with a serious pout. She licked her lips...to moisten them, of course. The gallon of lip gloss was obviously not doing its job. God, she was so fake.

“I saw you from the street and I just knew you’d like some company. You looked so lonely and I’ve missed you, Killian.” She leaned across the table so he could look down her blouse if he wanted to.

He didn’t. She shifted her arms so her breasts practically fell out of the opening.

He couldn’t help himself. He rolled his eyes until he saw his brain. This bitch had been a pain in his ass for 200 years. She was a stalker long before the word was invented. He’d never been interested in anything she offered, but she wouldn’t let it go. She considered him a challenge.

He would rather stick his dick into a tank of piranhas than inside her overused sewer. And that was
before
Mica! Now? After finding his wife again? Oh, hell no! He’d cut it off before sticking it anywhere else. She claimed him completely.

The waiter perked up as soon as he spotted the half-naked blond slinking against the table. Rushing over with pad in hand, he dropped off the S.A. and smiled hugely.

“Welcome to B.J.’s. What can I get you to drink?”

She lifted one pale brow and purred, “B.J.’s? Oh, how apropos!” She reached for Killian’s thigh under the table, but he shifted slightly before she could latch on.

“She’s not staying. Just bring me my wings.” Killian’s voice snapped like a whip and the waiter actually jumped and bolted.

She tapped at her cleavage with one finger and purred, “Baby, that’s no way to treat an old friend.” Her nails reminded him of claws dripping with fresh blood. She reached for his leg again and he leaned across the table.

With eyes glowing, he growled low in his throat, “Listen to me and listen good. I don’t want anything you have to offer. Never have, never will. You will get up and get the fuck out of here now, or I will take you outside and help you disappear. Are we clear?”

She blanched and snatched her hand back. With a calculating stare, she smiled tightly and stood. After smoothing her skirt and straightening her hair, she leaned into his ear and murmured, “I do hope your wife survives this pregnancy. So fragile right now. Anything could happen to her. Shame.” She turned and walked away.

I’m going to kill her. From thought to action took nanoseconds.

He didn’t make it out of his chair though.

Strong hands clamped down on his shoulders just as he started to bolt from his chair. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”

Alex pulled up the recently-vacated chair and straddled it. Leaning forward on his elbows, he mused, “So. Lara. You’d think after 200 years she’d get the hint.” He signaled the waiter and smiled faintly. Alex wasn’t big on emotions.

Still seeing red, Killian muttered, “Fucking bitch.”

How dare she talk about Mica like that? She had no idea what they’d been through. Holy God, was she just that horny? To wish death on them? She was insane. He looked down at himself and shook his head. He didn’t see the reason for her obsession. Sure, he was hot--Mica’s words, not his--but there were plenty of Primani out there who were single and who were popular with the women. Sean’s face popped into his mind just then. Oh yeah, he’d ended up with a shattered leg the last time he let Lara anywhere near him.

He relaxed and let himself crack a smile.

That shit was funny...even now. He loved Sean like a brother, but he’d been such a tool that day. No wonder Mica broke him. He totally deserved it.

Alex rapped his knuckles on the table. “You wanted to meet with me. What’s up?”

Back to business.

“You happy with Rivin’s work?”

Alex narrowed his eyes and said, “So far. Why? Is something up?”

“Nah, not really. Just a feeling about him. He’s mostly--“

Sgaine Eiron
burst into life.

“Jordan!” He threw his chair back and strode out the front doors with Alex at his back.

It was fully dark outside and the streets were crowded with evening commuters making their way home. Wishing he had a jacket to hide the blade, he thrust it under his shirt and let it guide him to his prey. As they turned the corner it hummed slightly. The frequency was too low for human ears, but Primani could pick it up easily. They ended up in a narrow alley used for deliveries. Puddles gleamed on the asphalt from an earlier shower. Dumpsters loomed in the shadows, while two cars were crammed sideways into a space near B.J.’s entrance.

Slowing now, he pulled the blade free and unsnapped the holster for his .40. Alex went ghost beside him with his own blade drawn and ready. Scanning back and forth, they slipped deeper into the darkness. Killian’s senses were so honed he could practically feel evil like a physical thing; could smell it too. Course, all demons smelled like ass...

He was here. Killian felt him, smelled him.

A putrid stench hit them like a linebacker. Without flinching, they pressed their mouths closed and tensed for battle. A shadow separated itself from the rest of the blackness and took form in front of them.

Jordan.

“You don’t look so good, old friend,” Alex observed dryly.

The boss was right. Jordan’s hair was hanging in skanky white strands now. The flesh of his face was slack and loose like the traitor was wasting away. One eye drooped. His eyes still burned with insanity though. Too bad they hadn’t fallen out.

Jordan snarled at them and braced himself against the wall,
Sgaine Dutre
lifted in a defensive position. “I’ve been ill, though my doctors tell me I am on the mend. How considerate of you to notice.” He inclined his head regally in Alex’s direction. “It’s good to see you again.”

Alex palmed his own blade and said coldly, “Can’t say the same.”

“Can the crap, butler. You want something. What is it?” Killian was sick of playing with Jordan and he wanted his knife back. Even now, the blade in his palm vibrated with its own unique anger, its red eye flashing like a cop car.

Abruptly enraged, Jordan snapped and started to lunge at Killian but jerked awkwardly as if snatched by an invisible hand. Instead of attacking Killian, he stood panting as he struggled to stay in control. Bony fingers clenched and unclenched around the weapon in his fist. He was very, very close to exploding.

Killian cocked his head with interest. Without taking his eyes from the unstable thing, he lazily passed
Sgaine Eiron
from hand to hand letting it hum and flash as it wanted. The blade was hot now and shined like a small sun. Alex sidestepped further away and watched with a knowing look.

“Well? I don’t have all fucking night. Did you come to give me back my property, or are you just bored?” Killian’s tone was about as rude as he could make it. Push, push...everyone had a breaking point.