My Demon Saint (8 page)

They walked toward the end of the hall where it opened up into a large throne room. The Demon King’s lair. Only he wasn’t a king. Wasn’t even a whole demon.

And his only treasure now was her.

Chapter Seven

Ume was wrung out. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forgive herself. What her mother had gone through for her was unimaginable. Had her father known? Had he had any idea? Was that why he’d abandoned Ume before her mother’s ashes had even been interred—because he knew it was her fault?

And was this why she’d been pulled into Saint’s damn game? For her necklace? She was still holding it, felt it warm her hand, pulse against her fingers. She hoped the
kitsune
spirit would be with her now. If she had to fight a demon, she would be a warrior like her mother.

The room was huge. And empty. One throne chair sat on a dais, but it wasn’t particularly ornate. Just a chair. No paintings hung, no treasure chests lined the walls, no people waited for an audience. As throne rooms went this one was a little…well, sad.

“You’re here.”

“Finally.”

Two identical voices. Two identical men. One with black eyes. One with red. Both wore hooded sweat jackets and jeans. Both wore black combat boots. Both held Blackberries.

And both of them had identical faces to her warrior.

“Sinner?”

Ume looked over at him in confusion. Was this another test?

Her warrior shook his head and walked further into the room. “This isn’t a test, Ume Wu. It’s not a trick.”

He turned to face her and the two images of him walked over to stand beside him. “I am Saint. Human.” His human half saluted her. “And demon.” The demon licked his lips and snarled.

Both figures stepped closer, into him, and disappeared, leaving only her warrior in the room, his arms out as if in supplication.

Ume’s breath had been knocked out of her. “Why?”

His laughter was self-mocking. “Because I was bored and you were unique. An anomaly. Entertaining. And you had a magic in you that I didn’t understand.”

“You were bored? You did all this because you were
bored
?”

“At first I just wanted to watch you. Know you. I touched your mind in the game out of curiosity. But then something happe—”

“You fucking bastard.” Ume dropped her sword and flew at him, needing to feel his flesh beneath her fists. She pounded on his chest, kicked his legs out from under him, unable to calm the rage that was consuming her.

Saint didn’t defend himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off.” She could hardly see through her tears. “I trusted you, you liar. You just wanted my necklace. You just wanted to trick me. You’re a Goddamned demon? I
hate
you.”

Saint rolled her over so quickly her head spun. She was on her side, his hips pressed against her thigh, his hands gripping her wrists on the floor above her head. “Hate me, Ume. Despise me. But you need to know I didn’t want your damn necklace. I just wanted you.”

They glared into each other’s eyes, their hard, panting breaths the only sound in the room.

Ume’s body was quivering, but it was no longer just with rage. He had to be a demon, how else could she explain it? He’d been playing with her this whole time. She should skewer him with her
kitana
for putting her through all this, for reminding her how it felt to be able to run. For showing her the truth about her mother.

But being this close to him, smelling him, was making her body heat with arousal.

She saw his pupils dilate as he sensed her instinctive response. Saw a spark of ruby red in their black depths and was shocked at her reaction. It wasn’t normal to want someone this badly. Especially someone like Saint.

She could feel his erection hardening against her leg and she licked her lips. Her body was tuned to his, trained to his. Those hours in that room of the inn filled her mind. The way he took her. The way he’d played her.

Something was seriously wrong with her.

His smile was dark and wicked. It made her tails twitch. “If this is how you hate, Ume, then please, hate me more.”

She pressed against him, arching her back. She couldn’t seem to help herself. “I hate you.”

He growled, bending down to take her mouth in a soul-stealing kiss. He took her breath, gave it back to her. His tongue tangled with hers, and she drank in his taste. She could feel his hands tearing at her underwear, at the fastenings of his pants, and she wondered that he didn’t make their clothing magically disappear. Even a second was too long. She was already wet. Already dying for him. Would it ever stop? This addiction?

He kept her on her side, lifting her knee high against her chest, and then he was there. Inside her. No preliminaries, no wooing. It was always like this between them. An instant blaze. But she didn’t need any romance. She didn’t want romance from him. Though he gave it to her anyway. In the way his fingers twined with hers as he thrust at an angle that brought her instantly to that rocky, jagged edge. In the way his soft lips begged her for more without a word. Seduced her.

She tore her mouth away from his to grab a lungful of air. “I hate you.”

Saint groaned. “I hate you too, Ume. You’ve ruined me. Fuck, you feel so good. I hate the way your pussy feels like it was made for my cock. I hate how hot and sweet and wet you get. How I know I could do any filthy, dark and dirty thing to you and you would just fucking love it and ask for more.”

“Yes.”

His hips jerked. “Yes? Is that a request? Let’s see how sweetly you hate me after this.”

He slowed his thrusts and Ume’s head tossed on the ground. No. She needed more. She needed that frenzied out-of-control feeling back again. She didn’t want to think. She only wanted to feel.

His thumb, coated in her arousal, pressed between the cheeks of her ass. “I can take away most of the pain in here, Ume. Or just a little. I know how you like a touch of pain, don’t I?”

“Mmmmmm, oh I—oh!” Ume gasped as his thumb pressed inside her ass, stretching her, readying her for more.

She’d never imagined anything like this, never imagined she would love this feeling. The
kitsune
in her had no such limitations. It shouted for joy and rolled over onto its stomach, offering Ume up like a sacrifice.

“Oh, baby. Have I mentioned I hate how perfect you are for me?”

His cock slid out of her drenched sex, the head pushing inside the tight ring of muscles and filling her. Oh God, filling her so completely she could hardly breathe. The stinging stretch only added to the pleasure. A feeling unlike any she’d ever known. Too much. Not enough. Too far.

More
.

She felt her tails wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper and he cried out. “
Yes
, Ume. Damn, you’ll kill me.”

The tip of one tail pressed between his muscular cheeks, tracing the sensitive skin teasingly as he rocked inside her.

She knew the instant he lost control. His growl sounded feral, and she could see his red eyes in her mind. One hand gripped her hair, the other cupped her shoulder for purchase as he took her like a man possessed.

A demon possessed.

And Ume loved it. Every sensation, every stretch, brought her closer and closer to her release. She was leaping from the edge of that cliff and diving head first into the fire below. His name a scream on her lips.

“Saint.”

The sound of her voice triggered his own climax, sending him hurtling after her into that space where there was nothing but ecstasy. Nothing but this.

When it was done he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms and murmuring her name softly. Over and over again. Ume. Ume.

She wanted to stay this close to him forever. And that one thought gave her the strength she needed to go. When she could breathe again, she tugged herself out of his arms and stood up. She looked down at her clothes, torn in some places but still on for the most part, and straightened her skirt.

“Ume?”

She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t dare. She wasn’t sure how she felt about anything. All she knew was she needed to go home. “You can put this scene on the wall now. Add it to my sins.”

She turned and ran down the hall and out the door, not stopping until she’d reached the arch and cried out, “Julie!”

A door of light appeared out of thin air, but Ume didn’t have time to marvel. She heard Saint calling her name, coming closer. She had to get out of his world.

She was crying as she walked through the doorway.

“Are we too late for the intervention?”

“Lower your voice, Thomas. He’s depressed not deaf.”

Saint wanted to smile as he listened to Mac and Thomas bickering outside his bedroom door. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t feel anything lately. Didn’t care.

He’d lost his treasure.

“Saint, we’re coming in.”

He looked up from his position on the bed to watch them all pouring into the room. Mac, Thomas, Liam. His eyes widened. Margo and Julie? Interesting.

Liam caught the direction of his glance. “She knows, Saint. I told her everything.” He shrugged helplessly. “She’s my mate.”

He noticed Julie blushing and it made him snort. Ah. A reaction. So still something in there after all. Damn it. “Congratulations.”

“He speaks.” Margo smiled at him compassionately. “We’ve been worried.”

“Why? I just wanted some alone time.”

Thomas pointed at him. “Hah.
That’s
how we know something is off.” He gestured around the room. “Notice anything else wrong with this picture? Saint, unplugged. No computer, no phone, no game system. And you’ve been like this for what? Two months? You can’t fool us, buddy. This is a full scale emergency.”

Mac was staring at him intently. Damn vampire empathy.

“Go away.”

“She misses you.” Julie’s soft voice had everyone turning in her direction, including Saint. “She’s better now. Stronger. The physical therapist has been shocked with how much stronger…but she misses you.”

It must be the
kitsune
. Before she’d left he’d felt it, felt the change in her power. Felt her embrace that part of herself. Maybe he even helped it a little. If it took away some of her pain, gave her some peace, he was glad.

Thinking of her made him ache. He didn’t want to ache. He just wanted to be alone. “She doesn’t miss a demon. She misses a character in a game. She misses Sinner.”

“Bullshit.”

The women gasped at Mac in surprise. Saint raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“It was you, Saint. You she was with. You she misses. And I’m sick of you wallowing. You don’t wallow.”

“Why? Cause that’s your job?”

Mac crossed his arms. “Yes, okay? I wallow, Thomas whines and you manipulate. That’s how this dysfunctional family works.”

“I don’t whine,” Thomas whined.

Margo chuckled and received a glare for her effort.

Mac stepped closer to the edge of the bed. “Why are you giving up? Because she’s mad? Hell, I’ve been mad at you for a hundred years, and you’ve yet to leave
me
alone. Don’t you love her enough to drive her crazy? Enough to try?”

“It’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt her, demon that he is. Afraid he’ll either fuck her to death or lash out at her in anger.”

Everyone sent the newcomer a surprised look, but Julie just smiled. “Manx, you’re here.”

“How did he get in?”

“Did you leave the door unlocked?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? I have the best security sys—”

“Guys,” Liam’s loud growl silenced Mac and Thomas. “We told him to come. He contacted us about a month ago.”

“I did. When
Demon Saint
started to crash.”

Margo’s tone was distressed. “The game is crashing?”

Saint grimaced and studied Manx. He’d never seen the southern technofile in person before. Not a blue tattoo in sight, but he could still see his friend inside the normal packaging. Long brown, braided hair, and wire-framed glasses hiding deeply blue, troubled eyes.

The game. Saint hadn’t considered that. Without him to guide it, without his interface, it would eventually start to degrade.

Manx glanced at Saint apologetically. “I wasn’t aiming to step on your toes or anything, but I had to do something. Whole levels were disappearing so I, well, added a bit of myself until you got back on your feet.” He gestured to the iPhone in his hand. “I had no idea it took so much energy.”

Of course not. He wasn’t a demon. “You can have it, if you want.”

A muscle twitched in Manx’s jaw. “Generous of you. Since you tossed her away along with your responsibilities, can I have Ume too?”

He had Manx up against the wall, his forearm pressing on his throat, before anyone could move. “Don’t you know I could kill you?”

Manx held up his hand to stop the others from coming to his rescue. “But you won’t, Saint. Because I’m your friend. And you don’t hurt people you care about. Humans or Other. And you wouldn’t hurt Ume. Because you love her.”

The room was filled with tense silence for one minute. Two. Then it happened. Saint could feel the smile blooming on his face. He couldn’t stop it. The same way he couldn’t stop the hope filling his human heart, the wicked plans forming in his demon’s soul.

He did. He loved her. He’d never thought he could. Not really. Not like this. But he loved Ume. Waiting for the life and pain to drain out of him wasn’t working. Leaving her alone wasn’t working. He’d just have to try a different approach. He’d have to do things his way.

Saint could barely hear Thomas and Mac’s banter through the excitement buzzing through his system, bringing him back to life.

“Uh oh. I know that look. Julie, your cousin might be in trouble.”

“You can say that again.”

Manx choked. “I’ll say it if he takes his arm off my windpipe.”

Thomas lifted his hands in the air dramatically. “This demon has been cleansed.”

Saint licked his lips. “Hallelujah.”

Chapter Eight

Ume was walking. A simple act for most, but for her? She would never take it for granted again. Most times she didn’t even need the single cane. She smiled. Soon enough she would be back to her old self. And the first thing she planned to do with this newfound freedom was start running again. Maybe take a kickboxing class.