Chase the Dark (27 page)

The noise grew muffled as they moved down the hall, not that Piper could see much of her surroundings hanging upside down over Ash’s shoulder. He found a door and opened it. She glimpsed a small infirmary room as he stepped inside and pushed the door shut. Then he tilted Piper forward and slid her off his shoulder onto her feet, which meant she slid down the front of him on her way to the floor. Cue another swoop of heat in her middle.

She found herself standing right against him, his hands hot against her sides as she cooled from the exertion of the fight. Her hands were somehow resting on the bare skin of his chest and she realized a little late that her legs were quivering so badly she probably couldn’t have stood without leaning against him. He helped her limp to the stretcher-like bed and sit on it. His fingers brushed the underside of her chin, tipping her head back. He lightly touched a sore spot on the side of her jaw, then gently pushed her mask off her face and dropped it on the bed beside her.

She stared at him uncertainly, trying to read his expression behind the mask he had yet to remove. His fingertips were still resting against her cheek. The sudden desire to pull his mouth back to hers nearly made her melt inside.

But then his fingers slid away and he glanced around the tiny room.

“That was a clever plan,” he murmured. “More than I thought of.”

“Y-yeah,” she said shakily, thrown off by the manic desire she had to wrap herself around him.

“Good strategizing. You’ll make a good Consul.”

She stared wordlessly. He flicked a glance at her, then stepped toward the door. “I’ll get a nurse for you.”

“Ash,” she blurted. She jumped to her feet and nearly ended up in a puddle on the floor. She staggered but managed to grab his arm. He turned toward her. She hesitated, then pushed the black mask off his face. His expression was inscrutable.

She touched a red scratch on his cheek, no doubt courtesy of her fingernails. She didn’t remember doing it.

“Ash, I . . .” She swallowed. “I mean, you . . .”

The door to the room burst open.

“Holy shit,” Lyre exclaimed, grinning ear to ear and looking shell-shocked at the same time. “That was
inspired
. Whose idea was that? That is the hottest kiss I’ve ever seen—if
kiss
is even the right word. I don’t know if kisses count on that scale—and I would know, wouldn’t I?” He laughed.

Piper dropped her hand from Ash’s face and stepped away, her cheeks heating. She had kissed Ash like a hopped up succubus in front of two thousand people. Her father and uncle had better never hear about this.

Before Piper or Ash could answer, Lilith stepped through the door. Her beautiful face was tight with fury.

“What,” she demanded, “was
that
? That was
not
a brawl match. You didn’t even use magic!”

“How were they supposed to have a brawl match without Ash killing Piper?” Lyre demanded.

Lilith ignored him. “That was an embarrassment. And you!” She pointed violently at Ash. “You’ve ruined Dragon’s reputation.”

“The crowd was happy,” Piper said defensively. “Plus, you know, a little variety besides blood and broken bones might be good for business.”

“I had to refund all bets placed on your match,” Lilith spat. “I’ve lost thousands! If you think that stunt will win you any infor—”

Ash stepped forward, swift and silent. He stopped right in Lilith’s face, his black, frozen eyes paralyzing her mid-word.

“The conditions were met,” he said, and his voice was icy-cold silk that slid under Piper’s skin down to her bones. She and Lilith both shuddered. “Piper won three matches. I won the next match in a manner that satisfied the majority of the spectators.” The silence hummed with waiting violence. “You will hold to the bargain.”

His last statement was an unyielding command. Negotiation or refusal was not an option.

Lilith licked her lips, unable to look away. Finally, grudgingly, she nodded. “I will give you your information. But don’t think I’ll ever bargain with you again, Dragon.”

He smiled. Slowly, he leaned down until their lips were an inch apart and put two fingers under her chin. “Oh, I think you will, Lilith,” he crooned. Then he stepped around her and walked out of the room.

Lilith stared straight ahead, breathing fast, fury and hunger written across her features. She drew herself up, gave Piper a look of death, and gestured at Lyre to follow her. “Come. My records are upstairs.”

Lyre shot a rebellious glance at Lilith for her lofty command before turning to Piper. He pulled the black ring box out of his pocket and poked it halfway into her shirt before she smacked his hand away. He grinned and winked, then hurried after Lilith. Piper plucked the box out, checked the Sahar was still inside, then hid it safely out of sight down her shirt. She wobbled over to the bed and sat, exhaling loudly as she wondered where Ash had gone. Holy crap. He was scary. Sexy scary. No—just scary, she corrected. Very, very scary. Not sexy at all. Creepy scary—a Risk Level 5 threat. Lyre was sexy. Ash was dangerous.

Some girls were attracted to danger. Piper was smarter than that. Yeah, she was. Definitely.

She hugged herself and worked to blot out the memory of how his mouth had felt, soft and hard at the same time, fierce, demanding, wild. Dangerous.

Oh man. She was in big,
big
trouble.

. . .

After a nurse came in and stitched Piper up, she headed upstairs, hoping to find Lilith’s office and her two daemons. Instead, she ended up in the middle of the dark, mazelike club floor unable to find the right door into the back room. Since she had the opportunity, she found a deserted corner and took a few minutes to collect herself. Not only was she still aching from head toe, but random tremors kept running through her limbs from too much adrenaline.

She leaned against the wall and glared “come near me and die” daggers at anyone close by. It seemed to work and only one barely coherent drunk guy approached her. She pinched his ear until he started whimpering and he left looking a lot more sober than he’d come.

The whole experience in the ring was starting to blur like a bad dream. Had she really beat up three daemons and gotten beat up in turn by them? Had she stabbed one through the shoulder and done the third serious damage?

Had she really kissed Ash passionately in front of two thousand witnesses?

It had been a good idea. The crowd had been teetering on the edge, turned on by the male/female fight. Turning it into something besides a fight had set off a thousand various fantasies for the spectators. Working her and Ash’s fight into a moment where kissing him would make sense had taken a bit of planning. It had been a logical, calculated move.

Right up until she actually kissed him.

She’d never had a kiss like that. She would never admit it to Ash, but it had been the most exhilarating kiss of her life, hands down. And that was something, considering the majority of her kisses had involved incubi. However, that did not mean she was falling for him. No way. He was disturbing, dangerous, and too powerful. She knew nothing about him except he had a bad reputation. He was keeping secrets. Everything about him was secrets.

Besides, she’d already learned her lesson when it came to daemons: Do. Not. Get. Involved. One, they liked breaking human and haemon hearts; her past with a certain lying incubus aside, she’d seen a lot of that with other daemon seducers. And two, it was against the rules for a Consul. She needed to be neutral and objective, not tangled up in daemon affairs and daemon love lives.

So, note to self: Do not kiss Ash again. Ever.

Piper nodded. Yes, problem solved. She would simply never kiss him again. It would probably be a good idea to apply the same rule to Lyre, but he, unlike Ash, was the one initiating the kisses. That made it a bit harder.

Tickling fingers whispered up her sides. Exasperation rolled through her; speak of the devil. She jerked away and turned.

“Lyre, would you . . .”

The words died on her tongue and her mouth hung open gormlessly. The exquisite piece of mouth-watering man behind her was not Lyre. Golden skin, pale blond hair, and the body of a god suggested incubus, as did the distinctly daemon aura. A mask covered his entire face, a fantasy countenance of teal and gold, but recognition flooded through her, undeniable. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed his mask up.

That face. It was like a punch in the gut. So perfect it almost hurt to look at him. His mouth curved in that charming smile, so sweet and open it could win over the devil himself.

“Micah,” she choked.

“Piper.” Oh God, his voice was even better than she remembered—deep and husky with that hint of a throb that made heat flare through her.

“W-what are you doing here?” Damn it, she was stuttering. Emotions boiled inside her, and as much as she wanted to meet his innocent smile with icy disdain and cutting wit after the way he’d used her and dumped her, she couldn’t think. Her brain was clogged with a hundred memories and feelings.

“I come here a lot,” he said, simultaneously sliding closer. She immediately backed away. His eyebrows drew together. “Piper, honey, please listen.”

“No.”

He bit his bottom lip as hurt brushed subtly across his breath-stopping face. He slowly exhaled. “Pipes, please. I need to explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She looked around wildly, desperate for rescue. This was her worst nightmare. She’d never wanted to look in his beautiful, deceiving eyes again.

He stepped closer, reaching for her hands. She jerked back. He froze, tension lining his shoulders in his sexy sleeveless shirt before he managed to relax.

“I—I can see even begging for your forgiveness won’t be enough,” he said, somehow sounding like he was talking softly even though they were both nearly shouting to be heard over the music. He rubbed two fingers over his forehead, looking miserable and torn. His gaze came up, hesitantly meeting hers. “If you want me to leave, just . . . just say so. I won’t bother you again. I only wanted . . .”

She hung there, suspended between the need to run away from the pain his presence caused her and the need to hear what he’d come to tell her. Nothing he said could make what he’d done okay, but could it ease the knife in her heart a little?

“What?” she managed. “Spit it out.”

Hope lit his face, almost breaking her heart all over again. He eagerly stepped forward, then checked himself. Watching her reaction carefully, he took one of her hands in both of his.

“Piper.” A deep breath. “I—An apology won’t be enough, I know that. I can’t ask you to forgive me. I could plead at your feet for a year and never make up for my behavior. But I . . . I have to explain. It won’t fix anything, but . . . it would ease a little of my guilt.”

He drew closer and reached out to gently push her silver mask on top of her head. His expression softened as he took in her face. “Piper, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse for how I left you, but please know. I—” His eyes squeezed shut. “That same day, before you joined me for the evening, I received news from—from home.” He swallowed. “Terrible news.”

Piper’s breath caught.

“It’s not an excuse,” he said, abruptly angry. He looked up sharply at the ceiling. “Not an excuse. I took my own inner turmoil out on you. I was in so much pain that I lashed out, trying to make you hurt too. You—you looked so deliriously happy, so content and peaceful—everything I couldn’t feel that day, everything I couldn’t even stand to see. And then you said”—his voice cracked—“you said you loved me, and I . . .”

He bowed his head, his hands squeezing hers painfully. “There was no love in me that day, Piper. None. Only pain.”

“I—I—” She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t think.

His head came up again and he pulled her closer until the only thing between them was her hand in his. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care for you, Piper—that I didn’t feel the same as you the day before. Every word—I meant it, Piper. That last night, I—I acted like the cruel demon so many humans think we are. I can never make amends.”

“But you—you never came back—”

He let go of her hand and pulled her into a tight hug. She stood stiffly in his arms, staring over his shoulder. He pressed his face against her hair.

“I was so ashamed, Piper. I knew I’d hurt you terribly. I couldn’t stand to face you and see how much pain I’d caused you. I was afraid to see hate in your eyes when you looked at me.”

She did hate him. Didn’t she? He slowly drew back, his hands on her shoulders as he searched her face. God, he was beautiful. Remorse aged his features.

He slowly slid one hand to her chest and pressed it over her heart. Her heart pounded against his palm. “I can’t repair the damage I did, Piper,” he said, his expression soft. “I can’t apologize enough, and I can’t ask for your forgiveness. But please tell me that—that you understand? That I never lied to you, that you were everything I said you meant to me?”

She stared at him. He looked back with such intensity that it was hard to hold his gaze. When she remained silent, his hand closed in a fist around the neckline of her shirt and his brow pinched. He leaned closer.