Blood Enchantment (5 page)

Tessa

The demon's penis drops to the dusty driveway like an exhumed hotdog. Black blood pours out of the ragged hole she made with a quick talon swipe.
Oops.

Tessa guffaws, because that's the best thing to do while wrapped against a demon. She’s always wanted to try that with a deserving male, and this fire dick fit the bill.

Sound ceases.

His hold loosens, and his mouth opens in dawning horror as his hands automatically go to his crotch.

“Sorry about that, asshole,” she says conversationally.

Suddenly, Tessa is hoisted off her feet, and her hands instinctively slice backward, hitting only air.

Lazarus whispers, “We are going.”

Then she's being turned and squired to the Suburban in a blur of speed.

Tahlia, looking human again, is buried behind the too-big wheel. Her eyes are mostly human, and entirely too young in a face pinched by fear.

“Tessa!” she screams as Lazarus tosses her inside the back of the truck. Tessa shoots across the bench seat like a cannon ball, sharply rapping the top of her skull on the opposite door.

Lights burst and flash behind her eyes. “Ah!” Tessa instinctively curls up into the fetal position.
That fucking hurt.

With a shrieking squeal, the door she was heaved through is torn off.

Tessa sits up, her vision warped as she sees Lazarus holding the door like a shield in front of his muscular body.

Then she sees why.

In the next second, Fire Dickless is storming toward him.

Toward me.

The real
bad?
His penis is growing back and is presently a fleshy little red nub between his legs. It's deliciously pathetic looking.

Don't laugh,
please, Tessa.

She laughs. Tears stream down her face, and she can't stop. Knowing she should makes it worse.

With a dull roar of rage, Lazarus brings the car door up between them in a swinging strike, tipping the broadest part sideways at the last second and impaling the demon in his gut.

“Fore!” Tessa whoops as though he’s hit a golf ball, with zero sense of self-preservation.

Lazarus follows through with an open kick that sends the demonic flying. He turns, giving her a death stare. “That is unhelpful.”

Right.
Tessa clamps her mouth shut.

A giggle erupts.

“Hang on!” Tahlia screams from the front seat.

It
does
occur to Tessa then she might be a little bit in shock—or more than a little bit. It's not normal to laugh when a wounded demonic is gunning for them. She nods at Lazarus's obvious rage then slumps back against the door, laughing again.

Lazarus pushes in beside her.

“Go—now!” Lazarus shouts at Tahlia.

She nods, stomping on the accelerator. The tires spin uselessly.

Tessa turns and looks at the back of the rig. Her laughter dies.

The demonic
is holding onto the tailgate, his triumphant smile revealing gleaming black teeth.

“Reverse!” Lazarus yells.

Oh, shit.

The click of the transmission locks into place, and suddenly, he's underneath the carriage of the car.

Thump.

Tessa's ass lifts off the seat. Her hair clings to the ceiling briefly before her butt drops back onto the seat.

The four-wheel drive locks into place, and the front wheels roll over the top of the demonic.

Thump.

“Forward!” Lazarus says above the grinding, rising car.

The Suburban gives an ungainly lurch and seems to pause as if stuck on the biggest speed bump ever.

Tessa's eyes find Lazarus.

His face is grim.

And handsome.
Tessa's mouth pops open to speak.

The car plops down on the other side of the demonic, and spraying loose gravel, it speeds off.

Tessa turns, getting to her knees. Gripping the back of the seat, she watches as a mangled body rises like a crimson zombie.

“Oh my God!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lazarus wince.

Oh, yeah, no religious terms.
Tessa sinks onto the seat, her eyes tracking the demonic as he becomes an ever-smaller red dot in the distance, like a Mexican jumping bean.

He's steaming pissed.

Tessa rotates slowly to face the front again, lowering herself onto the seat. “That was close.” Her heart's pounding begins to slow.

Lazarus turns, letting his head fall back against the seat. Air rushing through the hole of the door serenades them with road noise.

Tessa blinks at the blurring landscape.
That's right: demon boy is back there with a half-crushed door in his guts.

Or is the car door gone now because Tahlia ran him over?
Hell on the tires,
Tessa muses.

“Where now?” Tahlia asks, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles are white.

Probably not fair to make the youngest the driver in the Race of Death.

Shit happens.

Lazarus runs his fingers through his hair, pulling it away from his perfectly formed face.

Tessa's crazy to still be worrying about him when they just barely managed to avoid catastrophe.
Still.

His eyes meet Tahlia's in the rearview mirror. “I do not know.”

“Oh fantastic,” Tahlia mutters. “Let me understand this. I am pursued by the Lanarre—rightfully, I might add. Then I decide to leave, giving myself the illusion of choice. And instead of riding off into the great yonder—”

Tahlia rolls her eyes as Lazarusʼs eyebrows slowly rise.

“I must contend with a demonic passenger after my friend relieved another of the horned persuasion of his penis.”

“Huh,” Tessa harrumphs. “Well, that's a neat-o summary as those go, but lacking a few details.”

Tessa turns to Lazarus. “Lazarus—”

“Laz,” he corrects, that vague smile hanging on his lips.

Tessa blinks. “Laz, what in the
hell
is going on?”

The corners of his lips tweak. “What indeed?”

Cute or not, Tessa sort of wants to wipe that insufferable smile off his face. Of course, the way she wants to do so is probably not ideal—with her tongue.

“It's too noisy to hear anything,” Tahlia grumbles from the front. “And I don't know where we're going.”

“Drive,” Laz instructs.

Her eyes shoot daggers into his through the mirror. “You do not command a Lanarre female anything, horned one.”

Laz laughs. “I haven't heard that in a coon's age.”

Tessa's brows knot. “Really? Fine. Speak loudly over the din.”

Laz exhales roughly, jerking his chin toward Tahlia. “The demonic hold the Lanarre in a higher regard than most of the supernaturals. That is true.”

A smug smile twists Tahlia's lips, though her eyes remain on the gray ribbon of highway in front of them.

“However, every being who has a soul is culpable to our purposes.”

Tessa hears only the greedy air grabbing at their vehicle.

After a full minute has passed, Tahlia asks, “Forgive me,
why
are we helping you?”

“It is
I
who helped you.” His eyes dodge to the mirror in challenge. “Except for your fine work with the Alpha.”

Tessa ignores Tahlia's bird-ate-the-canary grin. “Explain.” She folds her arms.
This ought to be good.

“Praile is a high demon—as am I.”

Tessa's throat tightens at the
D
word. Really, there's no good connotation to that.

“You guys don't look the same,” Tessa states the obvious. It's not as though she's tripped over a bunch of demonic in her life.
What did Tramack say? That they weren't allowed in this realm or something like that.

“Praile is the best of us. He has all the traits of beauty among our realm.”

Tahlia grunts loudly enough to be heard over the roar of noise.

Tessa sniffs. “He's fugly.”

A small smile touches Laz's mouth then vanishes.

“I agree,” Tahlia chimes in.

“Your earthly views on attractiveness are not important in our realm. In the demonic realm, dark-red skin, horns and teeth of black, a tail made for battle—those are deemed beautiful.”

“He's less beautiful now without a prick,” Tessa comments dryly.

Tahlia's shout of laughter in the front are followed by a soft whoop.

Laz suddenly grips Tessa's shoulders, causing her to yelp in surprise, and drags her against him.

The wheel jerks, and they nearly sail into the road through the hole in the side of the car.

“What are you doing to Tessa?” Tahlia shouts.

Laz ignores her, his eyes going black.

“You're scaring me!” Tessa says, squirming.

“
Good
, for Praile
will
retaliate.”

“He can't. He's fifty miles behind us.”

Laz releases her abruptly, shaking his head. “He is
demonic
. Do you understand what that means?”

Tessa was born in the 1960s. By werewolf standards, she's young for a female. She has studied
some
history, but demonic lore was never high on her list. “No,” she says at last.

“It means that Praile has a strength in this realm that he lacks, even as a high demon, in Hades. He can do much here.”

“Why did you—why didn't you stay behind?” Tessa asks.

Laz stares at her so long, Tessa thinks he might be ignoring her question. Then he replies, “Because my Redemptive has been revealed. That is all I needed. All that was necessary for me to eschew my origin. To never have to be in hell again.” He curls his long fingers around Tessa's nape, gently cupping the hot flesh around her skin, warming it.

“You're hot,” she whispers.

Laz nods, the small smile she's coming to like frosting his lips like cake icing. “Yes, I am demonic. It is part of what and who I am.”

“Why don't you look like that Praile nutjob?”

His lips quirk. “It is rare, but sometimes, an ugly demonic will be born. He will lack all the features of beauty among our kind.” Laz gives a rolling shrug, dismissing the way he just put himself down.

Tahlia's eyes flick to Tessa's then back to the road.

“So
you're
ugly.”

Laz chuckles. “Very.”

Tessa frowns. “Hmm. Okay, so aside from your grotesque looks…” She looks up from beneath her eyelashes, and his face is solemn.

She hits him on the arm. “Kidding!”

His answering smile is tentative.

“God—touchy!”

Laz flinches.

“Sorry.” Tessa pauses for a second, thinking about what to say next. “They really did a number on you.”

Laz scowls. “They did
nothing
to me. It has always been the order of Hades. An ugly demonic who is a high demon must prove their worth in other ways. They do not have their looks to rely on.”

“Oh?” Tahlia says.

“Yes.”

Tessa's getting this might be bad. She asks anyway, “So what have you had to do?”

His eyes glitter, their color morphing from the pale grayish-blue to a smoky charcoal. “Many unmentionable things.”

Oh.
“What—
why
are you different?” Tessa asks instead of pressing him for all his demon deeds.

“I am not purely demonic.” His words hold shame.

Or maybe I’m reading things into that.

“Okkaaay.”

His head jerks toward her, his eyes now black. “I can heal others. I have a mixed heritage. Imagine being a ticking time bomb of mystery among those whose destinies are set as high demons with a fate as certain as the sunrise.”

Pretty awkward.
“And this Redemptive craziness?”

“Stop the vehicle,” Laz says in a powerful voice.

“What about the demonic, Praile?” Talia asks in a strained voice, her eyes bouncing between them and the road.

“Pull. Over.”

Tahlia's mouth becomes a slash in her pretty face as she jerks the wheel. The car slams into the soft shoulder.

She shoves the gearshift into park and turns around, gripping the back of the driver's seat. “You will show me respect, horned one, or I will become an eagle in the time you take your next breath and pluck the beak from
your
face.”

Laz leans forward, nearly nose to nose with Tahlia. “And I shall suck your soul in one gulp, bird or no.”