Tangled Sin (A Dark Realm Novel) (8 page)

She turned to leave, only to spin back, she had no idea what he preferred, tea or—

“Coffee,” he mouthed. Right. She shot him a look that said:
See? We should have covered the basics.

Yes, perhaps.
His voice drifted into her mind.
But much more fun this way, don’t you agree?

Her mouth dropped open then snapped shut at his telepathy. The fiend. Saia didn't know whether to laugh or get mad. Riley, it seemed, liked to unsettle her. She hadn't imagined those earlier words.

Nor did he mean them
, she reminded herself. Despite their unconventional meeting and his sensual attacks on her, Riley was about as forthcoming as a brick with personal info.

“Riley?” Zayn called out. “You in for a game of pool?”

“Sure,” he said, still watching her. Something warm and wicked flared in his gaze, holding her spellbound. Her heart sped up with a stupid little flutter.

It’s not real, not real
, she repeated. It’s all a show so Mother will back off.

To keep her sanity, Saia turned to Zayn and speared him a warning look. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What? It’s just a friendly game,” he protested, harmless as a hyena circling prey. “Don’t you want us to get to know Riley?”

Saia snorted, not fooled for a second by his innocent look. The twins’ competitive spirit when it came to pool was known throughout town. Doubtless, they wanted to add another name to their win list.

Zayn rubbed his hands in glee. “Okay, then. Let’s get this game on the road.”

Saia watched them leave. Riley touched her back. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” Heck, she wished she could tag along, too. She blew out a rough breath. Shoulders squared, she made her way to the kitchen and into battle.

The aromatic smells of baked cookies drew her attention to the island counter in the massive kitchen with its sea of maple-wood cupboards, black granite counters, and stainless steel appliances.

Mary, their old cook, had laid out a platter of chocolate-chip cookies on the counter next to a scrumptious red velvet cake. Her tight, salt-and-pepper curls were pulled back into several cornrows. She glanced up and her brown eyes, a shade lighter than her skin, brightened in her round face. “Saia, sugar, you're back.”

Along with the soft, lyrical Cajun cadence of her voice, her warmth drew Saia like a moth to a flame. She hugged the older woman. “Only for the weekend, Mary,” she said, smiling. Mary rubbed her back and went back to her tea preparation.

Saia turned to her mother, wanting to get this over with. “What is it now, Mother?”

Jemima’s elegant eyebrow rose at her terseness. Not a line showed on her smooth brown skin, even in the unforgiving bright florescent lights. Her assessing gaze skimmed over Saia. “You’re wearing bulky clothes again. Either cut down on your dessert or book a week at a spa.”

Saia choked down her irritation. Mary sent her a sympathetic look from behind her mother’s back as she opened the mammoth fridge, used to the lectures her mother dished out.

Deliberately, Saia picked up a chocolate-chip cookie and took a bite, reveling in the chocolaty taste. This form of her mother’s attack strategy was one she understood far too well.

Weaken the prey and pounce so she’d get what she wanted. Saia refused to let her have the last word, not this time. “I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment, Mother, but I’ll always be a bit curvy. Now, what do you want to talk about?”

“Why do you have to be this difficult?” her mother demanded. “All right. You made your point. Send him off, and I won’t push you into seeing any more suitors.”

“Is parading twenty-nine men past your spinster daughter getting too embarrassing—” Saia broke off and took a deep breath. She didn't want to be drawn into another useless argument. “Fine, but Riley stays. I like him…”

But it was more than a simple liking, she realized. It was something intrinsic she felt within her bones. From the moment outside Liz’s apartment when he’d grabbed her, even though she hadn’t seen him, his voice, his touch had affected her.

It’s why the thought of him with that woman, Pandora, made her tummy roil.

But the fact that he was here gave her hope.

“No, Saia Rae,” her mother said, as if sensing her thoughts. “I'm saving you the heartache which is sure to follow. Men who look like him will only hurt you. I'm doing this for your own good.”

“My own good? Mother,
you
fell in love with Daddy. Why won't you let me do the same? Find someone, fall in love?”

“Because you don’t know your own mind. Just look at whom you brought home.”

“Someone who actually cares about
me
?” Saia shot back.

“You’ll find out just how shallow men like him are when he realizes he won't get a dime of your inheritance,” her mother retorted. “He’ll leave you. I refuse to have my daughter’s name dragged through the dirt, associating with a man who works in the worst part of New Orleans.” She pinned Saia with an irate look. “For heaven’s sake, he tends a bar, wears earrings. What kind of image is that for people of our standing? God only knows how many tattoos he must have.”

“I don’t care if he has piercings throughout his body or tatts on his butt”—she ignored her mother’s eye-popping—“or what he does. You're wrong about him. He’s not after anything, or, God forbid, my inheritance.” Resentment buzzed through her that her mother would think that of him. “And don’t you dare offer him any pay-off. If you do, I’ll…I’ll leave—elope with him. You will never see me again.”

The remainder of her cookie crumbled in her fist. It didn’t matter that it would never occur. Riley would probably bolt if he heard her, but she refused to let her mother embarrass her like she’d done with Saia’s last boyfriend. Yes, that relationship had died a very quick death. But he’d taken the money, too, and that had hurt more.

After a long moment of silence, Jemima said, “There’s Piers.”

“What about him?” she asked nonchalantly, her heart tripping. She took a napkin from the counter and wiped the cookie crumbs from her palm.

“Must you be difficult, Saia? You liked him once. He cares about you.”

“Why? He hasn’t seen me in like eight years.”

“He did. A month ago, before you left home to go stay with
her
.”

Saia studied her mother and saw the chill in her eyes. “Why can’t you say her name, Mother? Liz has been nothing but kind.”

Jemima ignored her comments. “Don’t forget, the party starts at seven, and since you want the bartender to stay, I hope he has something presentable to wear.”

About to tell her mother Riley owned the bar, Saia shut her mouth. It would make little difference. Riley wasn't boyfriend material, let alone that of a son-in-law. Her family might be unconventional and accepting of demons living in this world, but if her mother ever found out that Riley was one, Saia had a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well.

Jemima checked the tea trays, then nodded to Mary before she turned back to Saia.

“Saia, dear,” she said, a pleasant expression on her face like the last half-hour hadn’t happened. Uneasiness had all of Saia’s inner alarm bells tolling furiously. She stared at her mother, not daring to breathe.

“Piers approached your father and I for your hand in marriage.”

Riley came to understand one thing about Saia’s brothers, they certainly gave new meaning to the word “competitive.”

He rested his cue on the game room floor and watched as the twins studied the balls on the pool table. Sure, they wanted to add his name to all the losers on their lists, but more, it was an innate competitiveness between
them
.

Despite their psychic abilities—he’d picked up a whisper of it—they seemed to have no interest in helping Noah in his supernatural hunting.

Of course, he’d scanned their minds, in his own self-interest. They accepted him as Saia’s date, knew what he was, but Riley didn't care if they liked him or not. Only what Saia thought mattered.

“I’m test-driving the new Ferrari tomorrow,” Piers said as he shot a striped ball into the pocket. “Can't decide if I want that or the Porsche.”

Riley tuned the windbag out and scanned for Saia, wondered if she was okay with the wicked witch.

As he listened in on the conversation in the kitchen, his mouth tightened. He didn't care what Jemima said about him, he refused to let her pull Saia down. The urge to protect grew, but he realized, Saia had to do this on her own.

Riley stays, I like him
, the words echoed in his mind. He smiled. Bet Jemima wasn't smiling.

“Yo, Riley, you're coming, right?” Zayn’s called out, pulling him back. “To check out the cars?”

“I'm good. Saia has plans for us tomorrow.”

Piers’s mouth thinned. He shot Riley a look of utter dislike. Ignoring him, Riley leaned against the pinball machine. Yep, he had the better end of the deal, one no car could match.

Zayn played his shot and missed. “Dammit.” He thumped the wooden edge of the table.

Smirking, Rohan surveyed the two solids blocking his stripe and positioned his cue. Zayn strolled closer. “Ten bucks says you can't.”

“You’re on. Now bugger off before my fist meets with your ugly-ass face.” Rohan repositioned his cue.

Riley wondered if he should point out that they looked exactly alike. Probably wouldn’t make a difference.

Zayn snickered, stepping back. “Okay, let’s see it then, bro.”

Watching the brothers made him think of Gaelin, whom he’d met when he’d been sent to live with his foster parents in Sheol.

They’d become fast friends. Brothers.

Gaelin had gotten Riley’s ass out of more scrapes than he could count. He’d gotten into all sorts of trouble, caring about little else…

“You’re bleeding like a stuck wyvern,” Gaelin growled, trying to staunch the blood flowing from the gash on Riley’s head with his hand. “Did you have to start a fight with those demons? You don’t even like that female. You know they waited for a chance to kick your ass—wait, they did. You look all the lovely shades of our purple skies.”

“But I made my point, didn't I? Get in my face, I retaliate—”

“By stealing their leader’s female?”

“Wasn’t hard to do.” Riley smirked, then he shoved Gaelin off him. “You behave like a female with a young.” He swiped at his bloody brow again and stumbled toward the cottage. The door opened before he reached it. He whipped up a smile, and hoped he didn't look too bad as he tried to peer through his hazy, swollen eyes.

“Réomer!” His foster mother rushed to him, her fair, braided hair swaying down her back, her dark eyes flashing red. “What happened?” she asked Gaelin.

“Nothing, mi’jan,”—mother—Riley said quickly. “I rode Gael’s destrier, dumb animal tossed me off.”

Gaelin shook his head but didn't call him out on his lie.

Lea, his foster mother, a tiny demoness, ushered him to a stool. As he dropped down like a felled tree, she scuttled around, brought cloth and water back to the wooden table. She cleaned the blood off him, then attended to his wounds and scratches. It didn't matter they could all self-heal; she always took care of him. Then she ladled a bowl of meaty broth and set it in front of him with baked bread. “Eat, son.”

Son. His gut tightened at the word. He didn't want her to call him that, it hurt like someone was pulling out his guts.

Gyris, his foster father, walked into the kitchen, rubbing his work-worn face. He stopped, his gaze skimming over Riley. Nodded in approval. “You’re walking. The other demon has to be worse off. Good.”

Riley spooned more broth into his mouth, smiled. “No quick healing for him—” He cut a guilty look at his mother. “Sorry, mi’jan, I didn’t want you to worry.”

Lea sighed, didn't say anything, she simply touched his shoulder.

His foster parents had loved him.

While he, fool that he was, waited for his sire to send for him. Yeah, that had never happened, centuries had passed, and he’d defected to this world instead.

His cell vibrated. Riley fished it from his pocket and frowned at the name on the display. “I have to take this,” he told Zayn, setting his cue back in the stand.

“Damn,” Zayn groaned. “And just when I thought I’d win against this dumbass.”

“Riley, take all the time you need.” Rohan grinned. “You're going down, Z.”

“Piss off, Ro,” Zayn muttered as Riley headed for the sliding glass doors. “I'm not screwed yet, can still beat the shit outta you.”

Riley stepped out onto the cold, damp porch, rain rustling on the paved walkway. He answered his call. “Yeah?”

“A heads up,” Zac said. “That Caligo you chased off two nights ago? He was back in the bar last night, asking about the woman you rescued…your female.” As if Riley didn’t know whom he meant. “I reckon you should keep her wherever you are for a few days ’til I get him.”

Riley pocketed his cell after Zac rang off and stared into the fog-drenched gardens. He didn't want Zac handling this. The Caligo was his. Retribution was owed for wounding him and coming after Saia. But he needed her where he could keep an eye on her.

Living in this cold castle with the wicked witch from the south, odds were that Saia would take off the first chance she got, despite her promise to him. He didn't want her in The Quarter with Trevor on the prowl, so he had to stay put. At least this way, he’d keep her safe and be prepared if Trevor turned up. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than eliminating the fucker.

Riley leaned against the pillar, in no hurry to go inside. A silvery haze curled around the trees, slithering between the manicured shrubs. The scent of Turkish tobacco drifted to him. Edward Grayson strolled over, joining him on the terrace.

Couldn’t say he was surprised. He’d been expecting this “chat” from the moment the older male had laid eyes on him.

“Nothing eases the soul like the soothing sound of falling rain,” Edward murmured, staring at the wet shrubs.

If that was an icebreaker, guess he had to say something. “Yeah. Beats the heat anytime.”

Could he sound more asinine?

Edward turned and pinned him with a cold stare. Hopefully, to argue his trite words—but no, Riley wasn’t that lucky judging by the expression on the human’s face.

“She knows what you are?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Edward drew on his cigar and blew out a smoky ring. They both watched it dissipate in the wet air. Then, “You saved Liz when those blood-demons attacked her and Jai. I know for a fact that you watched out for her. My daughter is my life. Hurt her in any way, and you won't live to see tomorrow or rebirth.”

Riley pushed his clenched hands into his jeans pockets. He’d expected this, so why the hell was he pissed at the warning? He would never hurt Saia, or drag her into his life.

“Saia’s happiness is all that matters to me,” he said. And ensuring that she lived a long life.

“You’ve never gotten involved in Liz’s life, why now with Saia?” Edward asked, still intent on his interrogation.

Her smile makes me forget the shit in my life.

Yeah, that kind of thinking would see his imminent demise. He was all around bad news, even compared to the Caligo hunting her. But he wanted Saia to have the added protection. “There’s a Caligo after her.”

Edward’s cigar froze halfway to his lips. “What—how?”

“At the bar. I’ll take care of it.”

Edward stubbed out the butt end of his cigar and dropped it into a nearby urn. “I’ll inform Noah about this. My gratitude for keeping her safe, and bringing her here.”

The door slid open. Riley turned, and the air zipped out of his lungs.

Saia stepped onto the portico like a ray of light in the gray weather. How could just looking at her make everything in his life bearable?

Her smile quickly slipped to a grimace. She wrapped her arms around her waist as if to ward off the cold. “How can you both stay out in this horrible weather? Come inside, tea’s being served.”

“Sorry, pet.” Edward ambled over and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair before walking indoors.

Riley inhaled roughly to ease the compression in his chest and pushed away from the pillar. His gaze skated over her face. She seemed okay after the skirmish with her mother—or she was very, very good at hiding her feelings. Reaching her, he lightly stroked her hand. Instantly, she laced their fingers.

“You must have a built-in heater.” She teased. “You wear no coat in this awful weather, and you're hot?”

He lifted a brow.

Husky laughter fell out of her and caressed his senses, heightening the tension fast building in him.

“Oh, you're hot, you don’t need me to tell you that. C'mon, I have your coffee.” She headed for the door then stopped, her eyes narrowing. “What other abilities do you have, besides telepathy?”

He was a demon…but tell her the truth of exactly what he was capable of—or would soon be? Nope. He settled for teasing her. “I can read your brothers. I know Rohan cares about you being safe and likes cars. Zayn, the same, and yeah, females are a weakness. Now you…” She pulled her hand free. Looked ready to peel the skin off his hide. He smiled. “I haven’t.”

He didn't dare with Saia.

“Good.” She spun away, only to wheel around, brown eyes wide in aggravation. “See? You made me forget what I wanted to say. The party tonight requires a suit, I'm so sorry I forgot to tell you. But don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”

Handle this?
She meant to pay for his clothes? Not a chance. However, her mother’s words in the kitchen gnawed inside his head like a marauding worm.

He wasn’t good enough for Saia…wasn't good enough for his own father.

His bantering mood vanished. “You think I’d embarrass you?”

She blinked in confusion. “Why would you say that?”

“You just offered to buy me a suit. Isn’t that why I'm here? To shock your mother into freeing you from marriage?” He slid his fists into his pockets. “Like I said, you could have asked anyone, but you chose the
bartender
—” he emphasized the word, since she’d called him that, too “
—
who works in the worst part of New Orleans.”

Her mouth opened. Closed. Her stunned expression morphed to hurt. He had no idea why he was being such an asshole. Her mother’s opinion wasn’t Saia’s. But being spurned by one’s own sire did dig its claws deep, after all.

“I'm sorry you feel that way. Obviously,
you
don’t know me at all if you think that. Come dressed as you like.” She whirled away and headed inside.

Godsdamn! Could he be more of a bastard?

“Saia, wait.” He hurried after her and grabbed her wrist. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Wounded brown eyes speared him straight in the heart. “I guess I just wanted to see if you looked any less dangerous in formal wear, but don’t worry, I'm sure I have something in leather. We’ll match.”

He shook his head when he realized she was serious. Unable to stop himself, he stroked her satin-smooth cheek. “You look far too sexy in leather. I’ve seen you.”

Hurt gave way to surprise. “You have? When?”

“I do live next door to Liz,” he pointed out.

Her cold fingers wrapped around his, and she rubbed her cheek against his palm. “This party is just another of Mother’s social events, but seriously, I'm tired of following all her rules.” She pulled away from him. “You know what? Forget the suit.”

“No, let’s go get one.” He ushered her toward the front and his truck. He never wore a suit, let alone possessed one, but he wanted to do this for her.

“Wait, where are you going?” She tugged his hand. “If you really want one, I could call the stores. They will deliver. Who do you want? Armani, Lauren or Ford?”

He met her sparkling eyes and bit back the raw truth that nearly slipped out. Shrugged. “Any one you like.”

A smile lit her face, and lodged in his heart. He stared like a mute, his words drying up. And a longing took hold.

For the first time, he welcomed the annoying sensation crawling inside his skull. He allowed the telepathic connection.

We need to talk.

One thing he’d learned about his sire’s minions, if he ignored them when they came calling, then they appeared wherever he was and cared little about the chaos they caused. Right now, he was grateful for the distraction, but he had to get out of here. Fast. He didn't want them to learn of Saia.
Audubon Lake.