Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) (28 page)

The
wait to get back through the Gate was much shorter than going the other
direction.  I was in a trance, letting Rowan’s arm guide me, paying little
attention to anything but my thoughts.  Decisions had to be made, conviction
had to be steeled, and by the time we jumped back to The Bookstore, I had a
plan.

Grayson
immediately carried his still-weak half-sister upstairs to my apartment.  He
didn’t ask if she could use my bed.  He knew he didn’t have to.

“I
want Connell,” I told Rowan as the rest of us found a place around The
Bookstore to get off our feet.

Rowan
growled, though I knew there was a hint of playfulness in it, and warned, “you
must be more careful with your words, girl.”

I smirked
at him, then pulled out my cell phone and called Dad. 

“I
don’t have time to talk, Savvy,” was his clipped greeting, and Rowan growled
again, hearing my father’s words, only this time, there was no playfulness in
the menacing sound.  It made me want to wrap my legs around him again.

“Can
you stop by later?” I asked, considering how this was the first time I’d ever
requested him to visit.

There
was some shuffling on the other end of the phone, some papers rustling I
thought, then Dad said, “I can be there after class.”

“See
you then,” I said, then hurriedly, before he could hang up.  “I love you, Dad.”

There
was silence, no more rustling papers, then Dad said, “You too, Savvy.”  Then he
hung up.

“Can
you contact Hadrian?” I asked Rowan after closing my phone, but not putting it
away.  I needed to call Benn next.

“Hadrian?”
Cyrus asked, poking his head over the back of the couch he’d occupied the
moment we jumped from the ‘realm.  He looked exhausted.  I wondered when the
last time he slept was.

Nodding,
but not offering any explanation, I flipped through my cell phone calls list
and selected Benn’s number.

“You
can’t be saying you wish that Devil to be one of your advisors,” Cyrus’s face
looked stretched, almost like he was afraid.

“That’s
exactly what I’m saying,” I said, and pressed send.

Benn
picked up at the first ring.  “Are you all right?”

“Still
breathing.  Can you come over?”

“Be
there in ten,” he said instantly, and we hung up at the same time.

Sliding
my phone into my pocket, both Rowan and Cyrus were staring at me like I was
insane.  I ignored their looks.

Walking
over to the counter, I swiped Dmitri’s talisman from the place I’d stashed it
after class the other night.  “How do you work one of these things?”

I
banged it against the counter a few times, shook it, then squinted at the
little, metal pawn.  Rowan stepped over to me, putting his hand on my head,
sliding it down the length of my hair, almost as if he didn’t even realize he
was doing it.  It felt incredible.

“Speak
the demon’s name.”

I
stared at the chess piece, eyebrows drawn in, and told it, feeling mildly
stupid, “Dmitri.”

The
little chess pawn burned my fingers for a second, then returned to normal.  I
shrugged, putting it down, assuming it worked.

“Razer?”
Rowan asked in my ear, and when I nodded, he kissed my temple.

“Unless
there’s some kind of demon mercenary for hire section in the Yellow Pages, I’m going
to need some of your full-caste contacts.  Can either of you get in touch with
Hadrian, or someone who knows him?”

Cyrus
nodded, and I got the impression he was getting ready to jump away, to do as I
asked, but he looked so tired. 

“No,
Cy.  Rest first.  It can wait until tomorrow.”

He
nodded again, settling back down on the couch gratefully, then asked, “at least
tell me why.”

“When
he lifted my glamour, he said the highest bidder wanted me unhidden.  In what
reality would the highest bidder
not
be the Royal?”  With lifted
eyebrows, I waited for them to disagree with my reasoning.  Neither did.  “It
wasn’t Iliana.  She didn’t want me unhidden.  She had no intention of the
‘realm finding out about me.”

“How
do you know for sure?” Cyrus asked.

I
would tell them about the waves of emotion I felt someday.  But for now, I
answered, “Trust me, I know.”

“Then
who hired Hadrian?  Who wanted your glamour lifted?” Cy asked.

“I
don’t know.  But Hadrian chose to do it, even though he could have taken their
offer to Iliana or Astor and profited from it.  There’s no way they could have
out-paid a Royal or an ancient, former Royal, no matter who it was.  There’s
compassion in Hadrian.”  I thought.  Unless I was way off.  But I couldn’t
waste time thinking like that.  The demon part of me didn’t protest the
decision, so I’d already committed to it.

I
also had no other option.

Turning
away from Cy’s suspicious gaze, I admitted, “but besides Grayson, I don’t know
any Tempters.”

Yes,
you do.
  The telepath came from
outside the store.

Eyes
of light brown and blue focused on me as Holly entered The Bookstore.

At
first, I didn’t believe her.  She was lying.  Of course she was.  So what if
she could telepath with me?  If she were a Tempter…okay, it would explain
Benn’s reaction to her.  And why she didn’t believe Jake could love her. 
Because he was a human.  But then, why would she hate me so much?  No, she
couldn’t be a…

Her
hazel eyes flashed black-out silver.

“All
right.”  I swallowed my shock, focusing on what was most important.  “I know
another Tempter.”

Her
glamour was the best I’d ever seen.  I had no idea.  There was no silver, or
grey in her hazel eyes.  There was no tinsel on the surface of her skin that I
could only barely detect.

“Look,
half-caste.  I don’t like you.  You’re Scion?  Who gives a shit?  You had a
gift.  You had anonymity.  And now you’re the second most public demon in the
universe.  You’re weak, and will never survive.  Half-castes are less than
demon.  I doubt you’ll live to see your mother’s reign.”

I
probably should have been mad.  But instead, I cackled uncontrollably.  “Please,
tell me how you really feel.”

Acting
like she didn’t hear me, Holly continued.  “On the off chance you do stay alive
through the Blooding, it seems…prudent for you to be bound to Division.”

“Did
Director Pakala send you?”

“The
director doesn’t know what I am.  And you will keep it that way.”

I
mulled it over, and my demon half scrutinized the female, her pugnacious
expression, her determined, hazel eyes.  If nothing else, I wanted to know why
her glamour was so flawless, why I didn’t get any waves of emotion coming off
her.  Not even faint, tainted ones like I got from Reapers.  And if she was
disgusted by half-castes, how could she stand working for Division?

Not
to mention, why was she working for Division incognito anyway?

And
my demon instinct whispered, if she stepped out of line, I could always use
Jake and Director Pakala against her.  My human half thought watching her and
Jake’s pseudo-romance play out would be entertaining too.  There were worse
sights in this world than seeing those two with each other.

But
I knew I may not see them together.  There was no reason any of these demons
would bond with me, and stick around and be advisors after the Blooding. 

Maybe
they didn’t have to. 

Perhaps
it was better that they didn’t have to. 

The
decision was made.  None of the demons I chose to bond with would have to be
anything to me after the fact.  I’d make sure that was clear.  It wasn’t fair to
force them to serve me.  I needed them.  They did not need me.

“Are
you certain?” was Rowan’s soft, concerned question.  Somehow, he suspected what
I’d been thinking.

I reasoned
it through.  I’d be bound to six demons, all with different agendas.  All with
loyalties that potentially bound them to an agency other than the half-caste Scion. 
And in a way, I’d be connected to those agencies through them.  Division
through Holly who hated me.  Faction through Connell who cared about me.  Iliana’s
court through Ivy who might betray me, whose loyalty was supposed to be only to
her Reaper Empress anyway.  Unsavory mercenaries through Hadrian—if we could
find him and get him to agree—who might kill me if someone paid him enough.  Dmitri,
who I was willing to bet would be the only demon compelled to be all allegiency
with me, who would no doubt give Iliana the same, unquestioning allegiance. 

And
my Warrior, who was all mine. 

“Savannah,
are you certain?” Rowan repeated, putting his hand against the side of my neck
with his fingers tangled into my hair.

“I
think it fits.”

Nikolai’s
advisors consisted of high-brow demons that came from money, even the demons
that were considered part of the lower-castes were wealthy and well-respected
before they were made advisors.  They were all loyal only to the monarchy. 

“We’d
be nothing like them.”

“And
this is a desirable trait?” he asked, but there was amusement in his eyes.

The
idea of being Scion, of being a leader to anyone was still pretty unbelievable. 
But there were things I understood.  Division did a good thing.  Faction was a
good place.  There were probably far more poor demons than rich ones who Iliana
and the other Royals favored. 

It
wasn’t right that half-castes were being kept as catatonic slaves by Iliana,
simply to amuse her.  It wasn’t right that Tanis had been held hostage to keep
Grayson in line.  It wasn’t right that Apollo, Greta, and Stratton still had
something dear to them being held captive.

It
wasn’t right that any of the six castes were treated as less, like Hammers
were.  Why did they have to forfeit eight years of their young lives to another
caste?  Why couldn’t Mischief demons be unglamoured if they preferred to be? 
Who said being glamoured, looking mostly human was the only acceptable way to
look?

“Yes.”
 I rose on my toes, hands pressed against his chest, and planted a light kiss
on the side of Rowan’s neck.  He growled, and my toes curled as I eased off
them.  “We’re already as different from any other Scion council there has ever
been.  We should embrace it.”

Rowan
hugged me then, his arms around my waist, and lifted me off the ground without
any effort.  “Council?”

“Better
than advisors?”

“I
like it,” Rowan said, but didn’t put me down, nuzzling his face into my hair
and running unglamoured claws along the length of my spine, making it
impossible not to think about what that would feel like if I weren’t wearing
anything at all.

“Are
they always like this?” Holly asked behind me, I supposed to Cyrus.  I’d
forgotten they were there.

“Usually,”
Cy’s voice confused, kind of embarrassed, and oddly worried, “they spit and
snap at each other.  I don’t know exactly when this happened.”

I
looked at Rowan, who didn’t seem to be listening to them.  His eyes were
glowing intensely, pure white gold with only specks of champagne.  He looked so
erotic, dangerous in a sensual way.  Scraping my nails along his shoulders, I
had to fight not to wrap my legs around his hips.  There were other people
here.  I had to keep repeating the fact inside my head.

But before
we had to return to the ‘realm, we were going to be alone.

“That
still leaves one caste,” Rowan said after Dmitri was out The Bookstore front
door, his promise to be the Razer in my council of demons vehemently
expressed.  Though he’d taken more than a day to respond to that burning
talisman thingy, he’d been downright eager—as eager as stoic Dmitri could
probably be—to bond with me. 

But
I hadn’t expected him to say no.  It was Hadrian I was worried about.

Cy
left with Grayson and Tanis earlier in the day, after what everyone said was a
ragged and restless night of attempted sleep.  The three of them had jumped away
to Grayson’s home downtown to better care for Tanis. 

She
was weak, and hadn’t said anything at all since coming Up Above.  I worried for
her.  We didn’t know what she went through in Iliana’s court.  I had an awful
feeling she wasn’t always kept in that catatonic state, being left alone and
unharmed.

Cyrus,
before he left, said he’d track Hadrian down.  We expected to hear from him any
time, which was the only reason I wasn’t asleep.  I think the heaviness of
everything that had happened, and all the sleepless nights caught up to me.  To
all of us.  And it didn’t look like we could expect some down time anytime soon
either.

After
a visit from Ivy—thanks to Grayson for getting the word to her—last night, and
Holly as my Tempter, I was doing better than expected when we got back
yesterday.

Rowan
came around the side of the couch, expectance on his face, and I asked, “Hum?”

“You
have one caste left to choose,” he repeated, and I realized how lost in my
thoughts I had been to not respond to this.  Or maybe I was surprised he
wouldn’t know I’d already chosen.

“No,”
I lay down on the couch, and stretched lazily.  “That’s all six.”

“You
have yet to choose a Hammer.  I know of several—”

My
head shot up.  
You’re my Warrior, Rowan.  I won’t accept another.

My
Sentinel bowed his head, and there was a wave of such intense emotion in the
air, it made me shiver.  “You honor me.”

“I
trust you,” I laid my head back down.  “And I’m crazy about you.”

After
a few more minutes of bowed-head silence and turbulent emotions in the air, Rowan
joined me on the couch, slipping under my feet, then placed my legs on his
lap.  He removed my boots and socks, and massaged my legs as if it weren’t the
first time he’d touched me there.  My eyes rolled back in my head.

Tomorrow
was the last day.  The last night.  We had to leave early the next morning to assure
we’d make it to Iliana’s palace on time.  Demon traffic would be heavy, Rowan
had told me.  The Gate would be overrun.  So we had one more day.

“Bennett
seemed to take everything well,” Rowan said, and I felt a stab of guilt.  My
best friend had been here yesterday, just as I asked him.  With the parade of
demons coming and going—Holly, Connell with Yan and Flora, and late in the
night, Ivy with three, equally sad looking Reaper females—I wasn’t able to give
him my undivided attention.

But
he came back today, supporting me with his presence. 

“He’s
an amazing person,” I said, my eyelids getting heavy.

As
promised, Dad visited after his class last night, but I lost my nerve.  I
couldn’t tell him about what happened, what I agreed to, or even that I met my
mother.  So instead, I introduced him to Rowan and showed off the improvements
to The Bookstore.  He left after about an hour, looking confused.

“You
should Mark him and Victor before the Blooding.  In case—” he snapped his jaw
shut, and wouldn’t look at me.

It
was something we had yet to discuss.  We knew the possibility of me not living
through the Blooding.  Astor had said it.  Holly had said it.  Even Grayson had
a sense of regret whenever he looked at me, as if each second he saw me would
be the last.

“Will
it make them any safer to be Marked by both of us?”

“No. 
But you got Iliana to agree to it.  You should follow through.”

“Mmm,”
I agreed, letting my eyes close as Rowan’s warm, strong hands kneaded my
calves.  “Tomorrow then.”

As I
watched Rowan’s fingers work my legs, something else took up exhaustion’s place
as the dominant feeling in me.  And as usual, the moment I realized how turned
on he was making me just by touching any little part of me, he stopped.

“I should
go,” he said, tracing each hand along the length of the top of my lower leg,
from knee to ankle.  “You need sleep.”

My
eyes shot open, trying to will myself not to look exhausted.  I didn’t want him
to leave me.  Ever.

“Cy
should be calling.”

“I
can take care of it.  I’d prefer you not meet with Hadrian anyway.  I’m still
not convinced he can be trusted.”

I
chuckled, mostly from giddy fatigue and a little from my body’s reaction to Rowan’s
touch.  “He probably can’t be trusted.  But we need him.  And I’m meeting with
him.  Whether you like it or not.”

He
gave me a crooked, almost boyish grin.  “I suppose it was a long shot.”

“Mm,”
was all I could manage.

Though
I didn’t think Rowan realized it, his hands got considerably higher on my legs. 
Nimble fingers stroked above my knee.  The other rubbed the inside of my
thigh.  Each touch made me grasp the couch cushion tighter and tighter.

The
moment he noticed, whether it was my elevated heartbeat or my slight squirming and
the excited intake of breath that tipped him off, he snatched his hands away,
and rested them on my ankles.

Not
blinking, I stared, allowing disappointment, and an invitation to project into
the air.

Rowan
shook his head.  “Stop that.”

There
was no reason to be shy.  Not anymore.

“I
don’t want to.”

Rowan
sighed, his big chest lifting and falling, drawing my eyes, making me wonder
what it would feel like for that chest to be bared, pressing down against mine.

“I
wish you weren’t Scion,” he admitted suddenly, and I ripped my eyes away from
his chest.  “Then we could—”

Instantly
understanding hit me.  This was it.  The talk. 

“We
can anyway.  Why should it—”

“Because
it does.  Because there’s no—”

“There
are no rules here.  No allegiances.  No archaic—”

“You
may not care for traditions, but others—”

“Do
you see any other—?”

“Not
at this moment, but there will…be.”

We
stared at each other, surprised by the velocity and passionate frenzy of our
conversation.

“So
what if there will be demons who disapprove?” Inhaling, I attempted to keep the
franticness from my words.  “Why does anyone else get a say in our business?”

“All
of my life has been these rules, Savannah.  These archaic traditions, as you
call them.  If you have seen what I have seen of what becomes of demons who do
not follow the order of things…”

He
trailed off, and I had no retort this time.  I didn’t know why he was still
resisting.  We had something.  It had seemed like he’d accepted this.  Rowan
had been so generous with his touches, so near me at every turn, blatantly,
unflinchingly displaying care for me since we returned, I’d stopped considered
the possibility of losing it.  Again.

Then,
I suspected I knew why he withdrew now.  I might be dead in thirty-six hours. 
We both knew it.  Was it better to never know what might have been?

No.

“A
week ago, I was nothing,” I said.  He tried to interrupt, but I wouldn’t let
him. “No!”

“One
week ago, I was nothing.  Now I’m Scion?  Holly has the right idea.  Who gives
a shit?  I spent my whole life a shadow of what I should have been.  With you,
I feel more than I thought possible.  I want that.  And I’m not giving it up
because of a chance of birth, of my mother’s ambition.  She already took too
much away from me.” 
She does not get to take you too.

I
settled back down, my head sinking into a lumpy pillow, and let silence fall.

“You’re
beginning to sound like a ruler,” Rowan finally said, but my focus was on his knuckles
playing along the inseam of my jean-like pants.

“Not
a ruler.”  I forced a reply, then grinned as I thought of Mina.  “Maybe a
leader.”

I
saw the moment his mind was made up, because the radiant glow in his eyes lit
up the dim corner of The Bookstore.  It helped that I could feel what he was
feeling too.

He
stalked on hands and knees above me, white gold eyes wide as he looked at every
inch of me on his way past.  The glow from his eyes made the skin under my
clothes heat as they grazed, leisurely, possessively taking in all of me.  I
threaded my hands into his hair as soon as he was close enough, and slinked my
legs around the backs of his thighs, urging him closer, wishing there wasn’t so
much clothing keeping his skin from mine.

I
almost blushed as I did it, but my days of holding myself back were through. 
The not-cashmere, beige sweater and white t-shirt underneath found its way into
my grasp, felt incredible under my touch.  But that was not the feel I was
looking for tonight. 

The
material made a delicious swishing sound as it slid over Rowan’s tanned muscles,
and I dropped it to the ground. 

“Wow,”
I couldn’t help the throaty word.  My male was unbelievable.

My
hands shook a little as I raised them to his neck, sliding down his prominent
collar bone, over broad shoulders, down the length of each thick arm, and back
up again. 

His
kiss was sensual, slow and savoring.  Rowan’s fangs and claws may have been
lethal, but those lips had the power to tear me apart.

“You’re
so soft,” he growled, the contrast of his rough voice and the sweet words
driving me crazy.  “You’re lips,” he kissed me.  “You’re hair,” he ran his hand
from root to tip, letting it fall one strand at a time, tickling my sensitive
neck.  “You’re skin,” he said, one hand on my cheek and let it smooth down my jaw,
my chin, my neck.

His
hands kept going, fingers sliding down between my breasts, then my ribcage.  He
lifted my shirt and trailed sizzling fingers along my stomach, circling my
belly button.

Rowan’s
lips, those dangerous lips replaced his trailing fingers, and he followed the
same path as he traced back up my body, only with his mouth.  And occasionally
fangs. 

Each
time a pointed canine grazed flesh, a shot of blazing electricity
zinged
,
making my ache for him almost unbearable.  The first time it happened, I shrieked. 
The second, I moaned, low and throaty, feeling an exquisite pressure building
deep inside.

“You
are so…” Rowan’s voice was deeper than ever before, and his breathing was as
erratic as mine as he asked against my mouth.  “What word nobody-ever-uses-in-real-life
would you use?”

I grinned
against his lips. 
Receptive
.

With
his warm laughter, I whispered, “only for you.”

As
his mouth on mine slowly twisted into a smile, I thought my entire body might catch
fire right there on the couch. 

Every
time he touched me, I knew it truer than the time before.  It was him for me. 
No male could make me feel the way he made me feel.

As
his claws grazed along the inseam of my jean-like pants, making my hips buck
sharply although I was trying to keep still, Rowan froze.

“What’s
wrong now?” I huffed, stunned and puzzled, then aggravated.  “You know, I’m not
going to keep convincing you with these passionate speeches forever.”

He
raised his eyebrows.  “No?”

“Well,”
I tugged on his belt loops, trying to force him down again.  “
Maybe
not.”

Though
he grinned, his body stayed crouched above me, his muscles tensed.  And his
hand that was so dangerously close to extremely sensitive places moved to my
hip.  He kissed me, but it was a distracted kiss, keeping our bodies separated. 
Though my pulse was galloping, I understood.

What
is it?

The amusingly
disgruntled look on Rowan’s face almost made the interruption tolerable as he
said, “Cyrus is calling for us.”

With
an irritated sigh, I released Rowan’s belt loops and unwrapped my legs from
his. “Awesome.”

I
tossed him his sweater, attempting to steal one last, greedy glimpse of his
gorgeous chest, but my gaze got stuck there as I pulled on my socks.  My eyes
must have looked as disappointed as I felt when his sweater was back in place,
because Rowan noticed.

“I
could stare at you for days,” choosing winded honesty as my explanation, then
slipped into my boots without taking my attention off him.

The
white gold in his eyes was turbulent, had been since the first detonation lit
up The Bookstore.  It made me think naughty things I didn’t know I was capable
of thinking.