Silver-Tongued Devil (20 page)

The cat hiccupped. “Don’t be ridiskulous.” He giggled.

“Where are Georgia and Pussy Willow?” I asked.

“The lady boy’s trading fashion secrets with the groupies,” Goldie said. “And the vampire has cornered Ziggy to tell him all about her problems with the werewolf. She’s so drunk she doesn’t realize he’s deaf.”

I frowned. “Georgia drunk?”

“Relax.” Giguhl waved a paw. “She deserves to let loose a little.”

“We’ll round them up on our way out,” I said.

I took Giguhl from Goldie. Loud music and laughter filtered into the room from down the hall. The party must have been picking up steam. Giguhl squirmed in my arms and rose to put his paws on my shoulder so he could look me in the eyes. “I wanna stay.” His breath reeked of whisky fumes.

“How will you get home?” I didn’t want Giguhl getting trapped in the middle of a groupie orgy in cat form. Not that he’d mind. But he also couldn’t exactly ride the subway home. And from the sound of things, Pussy Willow and Georgia weren’t in any state to navigate the city.

Erron shrugged and said, “I can have a car take them home later. It’s no problem.”

I shrugged. “Fine by me.” I didn’t argue for two reasons. One, he might be my minion, but I wasn’t Giguhl’s mother, thank the gods. And two, I wouldn’t mind an evening without all our guests underfoot. Adam and I could definitely use some time to ourselves. I glanced at the mancy and raised a brow. A slow, promising smile spread across his lips. He was thinking the same thing.

Adam stood and went to shake Erron’s hand. “Will you be in town long?”

“Leaving tomorrow morning. I’m gonna hit New Orleans for some R&R.”

I approached Erron and gave him a big hug. “Thanks for everything. I know you didn’t want to be involved in any of this.”

He gave me a quick squeeze. “My pleasure. Just promise me you’ll try to relax. You deserve to let loose, too.”

I pulled back and smiled. From the corner of my eye, I saw Adam waiting impatiently to get me home. Alone. “You know what?” I winked at Erron. “You might be right.”

I surrendered Giguhl to the ground and went to join the mancy. Just before the magic rose and we poofed out of there, I shot a look at Giguhl, a silent reminder to behave himself. Two seconds later, Adam and I were back in the apartment and all thoughts of Cain, the Recreant, and our drunk friends disappeared.

18

N
ot wanting to waste any time, the mancy flashed us back to our bedroom, instead of the living areas. The apartment’s silence enveloped us. The windows overlooking Central Park cast gray shadows across the wooden floors and bed.

Adam and I stared at each other, not quite trusting that we were alone. After weeks, maybe months, of never having the place to ourselves, the rare privacy felt decadent.

“Finally,” Adam breathed, “I have you all to myself.”

I smiled an impish smile. “Whatever will you do with me?”

Instead of telling me, he showed me. With his mouth on mine, with his hands. Instead of the feverish quickies we’d gotten used to sneaking in around Giguhl’s schedule, we took it slow, savoring the rare luxury of time.

As he kissed me, he urged me back toward the bed. His hands were busy removing my shirt, unbuttoning my jeans. Mine were busy exploring the hard planes of his chest, teasing the ridges of his stomach under his shirt.

The backs of my knees bumped the mattress. I lowered myself slowly, not wanting to break the connection. He followed, his tongue exploring mine.

I ran a teasing finger along his waistband, dipping the tip lower to brush over his Hekate’s Wheel birthmark. I unbuttoned the top snap of his jeans and placed my lips there, savoring the way his muscles jumped under my mouth.

Adam’s fingers were busy, too. Soon, my bra joined the tank top on the floor and he lowered his head to lavish my breasts with his own form of worship. He grabbed my hands, held them over my head in playful bondage. But soon, the pull of his hot mouth against my sensitive skin had me writhing, yearning to touch him, too.

He pulled away only to allow me to lift his shirt over his head. As he returned for more, I ran my hands over his broad shoulders, enjoying the way his muscles danced. I wanted to push him over and climb atop him. To let my hands explore his skin while I watched his eyes glaze over with passion. But I knew better than to try to take control. Ever since New Orleans, he’d been skittish about the slightest bit of sexual dominance from me. It would be too easy to indulge my bloodlust if I had him pinned to the mattress.

Instead, I took his face and pulled him up for another kiss. While our tongues tangled, his fingers slid down my stomach, dipping into my navel, before continuing south. He caressed me gently at first, then faster, firmer. I pushed my hips toward him, needing more than his finger inside me. He recognized the signal and pulled back so I could help him out of his jeans. His sex sprang forward, eager for my touch. I wrapped my hand around the heat and guided it home.

The first thrust forced groans from both our throats. He bent over me, entering me with both his tongue and his sex. The dual sensations sparked a new need in me. One I knew better than to indulge. I pulled my mouth from his and bit my lip. He didn’t seem to notice the withdrawal. Instead, he pushed up on his arms and thrust deeper, harder. Each movement brought me closer to the edge of both pleasure and pain. The pleasure of release. The pain of self-denial.

The need to taste his blood grew until my head rocked restlessly on the mattress. My fangs cut deep into my bottom lip. The taste of my own blood bloomed on my tongue. But it wasn’t enough. The hunger would never be satisfied with anything less than Adam’s sweet blood.

But the refusal to indulge my hunger heightened my other senses. The feel of pressure building in my core. The smell of Adam’s sandalwood and hot male scent. The sight of Adam’s face flushed and determined to bring us both to release. The sound of his panting breaths mingled with my moans.

Adam lowered himself to my chest, his hands wrapping my legs around his hips. I cradled him there, squeezing with my thighs and meeting his thrusts with my hips. He didn’t try to kiss me. He knew the temptation to feed would be too strong to deny. Instead, he buried his lips on my throat, sucking and licking the sweat from my fevered skin. Harder now. Faster. Close, so close.

My stomach muscles ached with the exertion. My fingernails dug into his back. His slick skin glided against mine with delicious friction. Until… yes, yes, yes! The pressure reached its apex and I plunged into the void.

Adam thrust faster, faster until, finally, he joined me there. He reared up, every muscle taut, as he screamed his release.

I finally floated back into myself. Wrapping my arms around his sweat-slicked back, I held him to me, enjoying the weight. Yet, I kept my face averted from his until my fangs finally withdrew, unsatisfied.

The dream was different his time. His body fills the opening of a dark portal. In the small room, the blue light flickers against rough stone walls. I spin around, looking for another way out.

Even in the dim light, his green eyes shine like emeralds.

“Sabina.” My name spills from his lips like a prayer. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Suddenly, I am afraid. I never should have come here. My mouth opens to scream for help, but the words clog in my throat like glass shards.

“Lamashtu,” he breathes. “Do not fear me. We are meant for each other.”

The cave swirls around us like a cyclone. The rocks dissolve and painted walls rise in their place. Now I am strung up, my arms tied over my head. Bruises throb on my cheeks. Blood coats my chest from the wounds at my wrists.

“Come to me,” he demands. “Submit.”

“Never.” I raise my chin despite the pain. “I will never submit.”

He moves closer, gliding across the floor like a specter, though he is flesh and bone. I can smell the rage on him. Feel the heat of his wrath on my skin. “Let me go!”

He smiles sadly. “I can’t.” He touches my face gently. “Why do you make me hurt you?”

“Let me go,” I say again. This time the words are a plea. I hate him even more for making me beg.

Cain raises his gaze to mine. His eyes are unfocused, crazed. “You belong to me.”

He lifts the dagger high. The metal flashes in the light. His hand swoops down. I wake gasping and covered in sweat.

19

T
he next evening, Adam had to report at the Crossroads for a meeting with the other Pythian Guards about security for the Imbolc festival. Meanwhile, Giguhl and Georgia were about to head out to Vein for a practice session. Since the first Roller Derby match was the next night, Giguhl wanted to be sure the Manhattan Marauders were ready for prime time.

Before they left, Georgia seemed more chipper than I’d seen her in days. When I asked her why, she smiled broadly. “Mac called last night and said she’s made some progress with Michael.”

My brows rose in shock. “Really? That’s great.”

“Yeah,” she said, and nodded. “She didn’t have too much time to talk but said she’d fill me in at practice.”

“You better talk to her before,” Giguhl corrected. “Because by the time I’m done with your asses, you won’t have the energy to talk.”

“In that case we better get there early.” Georgia rolled her eyes and pushed the demon toward the door. “Let’s go, coach!”

After everyone left, I decided to head to Maisie’s apartment to check up on her and try to make some progress with her about the dream incubation. Time was running out before the festival, so I needed to step up my campaign.

When I reached the door to her apartment, I knocked twice but didn’t hear an answer. Just when I was about to turn and go look for her elsewhere, a loud crash sounded inside the apartment. The door was unlocked and I didn’t hesitate to rush inside.

Running through the apartment, I mentally prepared myself for anything. Probably the crash was nothing to worry about, but that didn’t stop my heart from kicking up a couple of notches. Especially when the scent of blood reached me.

I skidded to a halt in the doorway of Maisie’s bedroom. “Maisie,” I called, pushing open the door. When I saw what waited for me on the other side, I froze.

Maisie was in the corner of the room with her back to me. Her head was bent over a squirming figure struggling in her grasp. It took a couple of seconds for my eyes and my mind to make sense of what I was seeing.

“Help!” a panicked voice whimpered.

Out of instinct, I ran across the room and grabbed Maisie’s arm. Adrenaline and shock exaggerated my movements, and Maisie flew across the room.

I recognized my sister’s victim now as her maid, Hannah. The young mage’s dress was covered in blood and tears soaked her face. In her confusion, she didn’t realize I wasn’t my twin. She fought me, scratching and slapping at my face and chest. I managed to grab her arms and pin them to her sides. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Wide, haunted eyes looked up at me. I tried to smile reassuringly. She blinked once or twice and collapsed against me. “Oh, Sabina, thank the gods.”

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” a bored voice said behind me.

I turned slowly to face my sister. Her rebellious posture and bloody lips didn’t disguise the fear and guilt in her eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking, Maisie?” I demanded. Behind me, I felt Hannah cringe like she wanted to disappear.

“Don’t take that holier-than-thou tone with me, Sabina. You have no room to judge me.”

“Like hell I don’t. You could have killed her!”

Maisie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms like a rebellious child. I turned back to the maid. “Stand still and let me heal your wounds,” I said, softening my voice. I raised a hand to place over the puncture marks. She cringed but didn’t run away. Closing my eyes, I called up the Chthonic powers that allowed me to heal injuries. The energy zinged up through my body, making me gasp softly. It gathered in my fingertips, where it drew the pain from Hannah and into my body. My arm stung as if I’d been bitten myself. Gritting my teeth, I focused on reversing the energy and injecting her skin with healing energy. When her neck was whole again, I released the Chthonic magic back in a rush that left me light-headed.

The entire process took only a few seconds, but I was drained and panting like I’d run a race. My eyes blinked open and Hannah’s face wavered for a moment before my eyes regained focus. “There,” I said, breathless. “Good as new.”

A slow, ironic clap echoed in the room. Looking over my shoulder, I saw my sister watching us with a scornful expression. “I was going to heal her when I was through.”

“You shouldn’t have had to heal her at all.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to gather my thoughts. “Since when do you feed from your servants, Maisie?”

She shrugged. “This was only the second time.”

My mouth fell open. “Wait, you’ve done this before?”

“Yesterday was the first time,” she said.

“But how—” I began, but my mind was having a hard time catching up. However, that certainly explained why she’d seemed so changed to Rhea when they’d had lunch together. I turned back to Hannah. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

The maid frowned. “This is the first time.”

I looked back at Maisie, who cocked a brow. She waved a hand. I felt the rise of magic an instant before it zinged past me and slammed into the maid. I flinched and ducked a second too late. But Maisie hadn’t been attacking us. Instead, Hannah’s expression had gone slack and her eyes vacant.

“Hannah, you’ve spent your morning cleaning my apartment and then left without seeing me.”

The maid nodded. “Haven’t seen Maisie,” she said in a monotone.

“Go now,” Maisie commanded.

The next instant, Hannah brushed past me as if I wasn’t there and she walked out of the room in a trance.

“What the fuck, Maisie?”

“Please give me a little credit. I know better than to feed from someone without clearing their minds.”