Demon's Caress: Demon Heat, Book 1 (10 page)

After all, no one understands forever like a vampire. He’s loved her from the moment he saw her…and he always will.
 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Big Girls Don’t Die:
 

My hands clenched on the steering wheel. I had to get to my cousin. That’s all I could think. Please, please let Desi be okay. I loved that little girl so much. I was going crazy right now. Worry gnawed at me like a hungry werewolf. One quick look at the speedometer told me that I was about ten miles over the speed limit. They wouldn’t pull me over for that, would they? I pushed my convertible Mini Cooper a little faster.

Flicking a glance down while I punched the speed-dial, I tried to get Misty on the phone for a progress report on Desi. It was a few hours to Las Vegas from Los Angeles, but if I hurried I could be inside the hospital before dawn. Something else to get pissed at Andre for. No reflection, no sunlight.

My stomach rumbled. Oh, yeah. Cravings for blood. Another lovely side effect. When was the last time I had fed? I meant to have something substantial before I went to Eclipse, but Andre had sort of interrupted that plan. I’d barely taken any blood from him, so my stomach felt as if it was digesting itself right now.

“Hi, this is Misty and Desiree, leave us a message—”

“Damn it.” I huffed out a breath and tossed my cell phone on the passenger seat.

My gaze swept the barren landscape along I-15. There wasn’t anything for as far as I could see except dirt and stars and a few ragged Joshua trees. When I glanced back at the road, a large white jackrabbit hopped in front of my car.

“
Shit
.” I jerked the wheel and swerved to miss it, but the crunch of bone sounded as it bounced against the underside of my car. “Oh, that is just nasty.”

And then my tire blew up. Rubber popped. The Mini Cooper’s back end spun out. My heart stuttered as my pretty little car made grinding noises when the metal of my tire rim hit pavement.

“Shit, piss, motherfucker. Oh God. Oh God.”

Skidding off onto the soft shoulder of the road, the car finally came to a stop. I sat there and panted while my heart rate galloped. My knuckles showed white on the wheel, and I had to force myself to relax my grip and reach down to shift into park. My hands shook on the door handle when I hauled myself out to go look at my tire. I walked around the car to the passenger side and kept an eye out for crazy-ass drivers who might be too blind or stupid to see the emergency flashers on my car and hit me. Oh, yeah. That was the flattest tire I’d ever seen. Little bits of rubber hung off it and flopped on the ground.

“Spare tire, Cyn. Put it on and get the hell to Vegas.” Popping my trunk, I—
What the hell?
—Where were the jack and tire iron? I had forgotten to check for them in this car when I bought it from the used car dealership last week. Now that I needed ’em, they were nowhere to be found. Fan-damn-tastic. Time to call in reinforcements.

I opened the passenger door and fished around for my cell phone. Please, please, please let me have cell phone service. I was in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, not daring to look. My breath whooshed out when I saw I had full bars. I pulled in a deep breath while I dialed my roadside assistance number. The number was programmed into my phone, just in case. You never knew when a Rambo-wannabe jackrabbit would hang on to your bumper and use his last breath to shred your tire. Fucking bunny.

I punched in all the appropriate numbers and listened to a recorded voice tell me to call 911 if it was a life threatening emergency. Well, duh. “Hello? I have a flat tire, and I need someone to come put on my spare—”

The woman dispatcher’s professionally concerned voice cut me off. “Okay, ma’am. Are you in a safe area?”

I looked around at the miles and miles of dirt. “I’m kind of in the middle of nowhere, but I guess I’m safe.”

“Good. Now where are you exactly?”

“I’m not sure. I’m eastbound on I-15 about a hundred miles west of Las Vegas. I don’t see a call box or any mile markers.”

“So, you’re east of Las Vegas—”

“No, I’m
west
of Vegas going east
toward
Vegas.” I rolled my eyes.

“What city did you just pass?”

Did I just speak English? I swear I’d told this woman I had no idea where I was. I was worried about Desi, not about where I might pop a tire. “I’m not sure. I know I’m about a hundred miles west of Vegas.”

“All right, ma’am. We’ll dispatch someone, and they should be there in about twenty to thirty minutes.”

“Thank you!” I could be with Desi soon, then. I shivered as the cold desert night air hit my bare shoulders and legs. Hurrying back to the driver’s side, I slid into my seat.

Twenty minutes later, my phone rang. Oh, good. Must be the tow truck driver.

“Hello?”

An older female voice responded, “Hi, Ms. Trent. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to dispatch anyone until we know your location. Can you tell me exactly where you are?”

I blinked. “Um. I already told the last lady I talked to.”

“Can you tell me again?”

Okay, stay calm
. I’d only been on the side of the road for about half an hour. Everything was fine. “Sure. I’m not one hundred percent sure of where I am, but I’m eastbound on I-15 about a hundred miles west of Las Vegas.”

“Are there any mile makers nearby?”

“No.” And I sure as hell wouldn’t wander around in the frigid ass desert to look for one.

She was silent for a long moment. “Um. All right, ma’am. We’ll dispatch someone, and they should be there in about twenty to thirty minutes.”

“Sounds good.” I sighed and dropped the phone on my lap.

Twenty minutes later, my phone rang.

“Hello?”

A pleasant male voice answered. “Hi, Ms. Trent. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to dispatch anyone until we know your location. Can you tell me exactly where you are?”

Trust no one…except the one who walks in the dark.

Key of Solomon

© 2011 Cassiel Knight

Relic Defender, Book 1

Anthropology PhD candidate Lexi Harrison never bares it all when she belly dances for a strip club crowd. She doesn’t have to—she’s that good. Every performance earns money toward her degree, and restores the sense of power that her painful childhood ripped away.

Something is different about tonight. A man whose silver gaze seems to touch her skin beneath her veils. When a rowdy customer crosses the line, he comes to her rescue with the speed of a falcon—complete with wings.

Mikos Tyomni has never seen anyone dance the raqs sharqi like Lexi. Trust his tormentor, Archangel Michael, to put him in close contact with the cause of his downfall: a mortal woman. Particularly this mortal woman. The Defender. He has only thirty days to win her trust before Hell’s deadliest demons attempt the mother of all prison breaks.

No matter how sexy the messenger is, Lexi’s career plans don’t include some crazy idea that she’s the last line of defense against the forces of evil. Until her university mentor’s murder leaves her holding the key to Hell. And fighting a losing battle against a passion with the unholy power to bring down Heaven…
 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Key of Solomon:
 

Oh, shit! Lexi let out a startled squawk as he closed the protective distance she’d put between them until he was within a foot of her. His fists knotted as if he wanted to grab her, but he held back.

“How do you know Beliel?”

Lexi held up the
sanjiegun
, gesturing out a circle in front of her body Mikos was damn near to breaking. “Whoa, personal zone here.”

“Alexandria, this is important. Answer my question. How do you know Beliel?”

She cringed. Her full name again. “He showed up at my apartment earlier.”

Mikos jerked back. Fascinated, she watched his pupils and iris begin to spark again, the silver pinpoints of light widening. For Pete’s sake, what had she done or said?

“What happened?” he asked.

She shrugged, and looked down. With a sharp snick, she extended her
sanjiegun
, rested the tip on the floor and idly spun it like she was trying to start a fire. Christ. She suddenly had an urge to duck her head and squirm like a child caught doing something wrong.

“He made me an offer,” she said and lifted her head, her gaze sparring with his.

“What kind of offer?”

The phrase
an offer you can’t refuse
flashed into her mind. She didn’t let it out. Probably a smart decision based on the silver sparking in his eyes. Where the hell did he get that unusual ability?

Instead of uttering any number of smartass comments wavering on her tongue, she answered, “A normal life. One with a family.”

“A normal life,” he repeated. His tone sounded as if it had as much emotion as a rock.

Oops. Better scratch that. She actually knew a rock with emotion.

“Lexi, you must stay away from him.”

“Hey, I didn’t invite him. He just showed up.” She wrinkled her nose. “What’s the big deal?”

“You don’t know him. He’s dangerous.”

Lexi placed on hand on her hip and tapped her right foot. “So? I didn’t know you, but that didn’t stop you from interfering.”

Mikos’s eyes narrowed. “That is different.”

“Feels the same to me.” She paused. “Besides, all he’s done is show me another life.”

A life she’d always wanted. Sounded so simple. So easy. So confusing.

“For a price.”

Lexi shrugged again. “Everything comes with a price tag.” And everyone could be bought. The only variance was the dollar amount.

“What did he want from you?” Mikos continued.

“To give him some kind of book. A book I’m sure I don’t have.”

Mikos face turned to stone. No, not the Rocky-type stone, but hard, cold granite. “If you had the book, would you take Beliel’s offer?”

“I don’t know.”

She truly didn’t. As tempting as it was to realize she could have a family of her own, it bothered her that Beliel offered her a ready-made family. After all, if she really wanted a family, she’d have found herself a nice guy and made babies. Sure, and it was just that easy wasn’t it? Except, she wanted…

Something else.

Something special.

Something just for her.

So, she didn’t know what that something was. And while she wouldn’t admit it to Mikos, she wasn’t sure she’d want to pay the cost for whatever Beliel offered. She sensed it would be high.

Despite the set expression on his face, Mikos’s tone had a controlled lightness as he said, “Lexi, you are the only one who can do this. God expects this of you, and your race needs you. Do not make the mistake of thinking only of yourself. Too much is at stake.”

The critical and patronizing tone in Mikos’s voice punched like a sledgehammer at her chest. How dare he try to make her feel selfish? He had no idea of the life she’d led or things from her past. Damn right she was selfish. She had to be.

Growing up in the system and then on the streets had taught her if she didn’t look after herself no one else would. A hard lesson to learn at the age of twelve but she had, and no man, no matter how attractive he was, was going to stand there and make her feel bad about her choices.

Lexi shoved Mikos’s chest. “Where the hell was your God when I lost my parents? Where was your God when I was shuffled from home to home?”

She paused and took a deep breath. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, tears welled.

“And where were you and your God when my supposed father in the last foster home put his hands on me like no father ever should?”

She was tired, angry and mentally exhausted with the events of the last day. Otherwise, what the hell else could explain her opening her mouth and sharing such an intimate thing with a relative stranger?

Lexi barely suppressed a shudder at the memory. Her last foster father, Tom, hadn’t seemed to fit any profile of a child abuser. With no previous history of abuse in his own childhood, a gentle manner, no issues with drug or alcohol abuse, clean cut, a pristinely maintained yard and home, he appeared to be anything but a vile abuser.

It was only later did Lexi find out just how much of an abuser he was. Certainly, she would have found out if she had stayed around long enough for him to finish what he’d begun.

She still remembered the stark terror of being pushed against the wall of her bedroom while Tom groped and grabbed at her clothing. The smell of fresh paint from her foster mom’s remodel of the kitchen, the feel of the stucco on her backside.

Slightly damp, cold hands that left behind an unclean feeling, one she’d never be free of.

Lexi felt fortunate in that she had been strong and independent even at the age of twelve. One unfatherly touch from Tom, and she bolted from the house.

Looking up at Mikos, she realized that in her anger, she’d come within inches of his body. Major personal zone violation. Silver painted eyes looked down at her awash with an emotion she didn’t want or need.

She shoved him again. “Don’t you dare pity me. And don’t you dare tell me what God expects. I stopped caring about those expectations a long time ago.”

Maybe the thought of shoving him a third time had crossed her mind and shined in her eyes because Mikos moved. His hands come up to grab her wrists, jerking her forward and locking her arms against her sides. For the second time, her
sanjiegun
fell to the floor with another sharp clatter. Damn it, she was going to get a strap on that thing.

She pulled her knee up then thrust downward. Because of Mikos’s tight meld to her body, she couldn’t get enough momentum to do anything more than tap his foot. A hard tap, yet still not enough to break free.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

This close, his whisper danced across her neck. She sucked in a whistling breath as unfamiliar sensations rocketed through her body. When was the last time she’d felt any, even the most microscopic, attraction to a man? Each time she was around this man her libido went supernova.