Embrace the Desire (9 page)

She grinned knowing that there were times when it came in handy. She remembered her first date and laughed out loud. He was hot as hell, but there had been only one thing on his mind, sex with a capital S.

No wonder she had lost interest in men a long time ago; reading their thoughts was a little disgusting at times and left a girl wondering if a man's brain was not indeed in his cock. Every other man she passed on the street was thinking about sex in one form or other. And often times the thoughts were perverted and purely self-centered.

She frowned all too aware that most women were the same. The only ones not thinking about sex were mostly children and elderly people, but even they were not always so inclined to turn from the matter.

She had often visited the nearby church, St. Augustine's Chapel, and had hoped to find some refuge there, but she quickly came to the conclusion that saints were hard to come by and more often than not the saints were exceptional liars and self-righteous scum.

She had found few people in this world she could stand to be in close proximity to and Gyth was one of them. Gyth was good at keeping his true feelings and thoughts buried inside so that they did not disturb her. So was Varick.

That was the only reason Payne intrigued her; it wasn't about how her body had reacted to him, it wasn't that kiss. It was because she had not been overcome with his emotions or thoughts. As a matter of fact, she couldn't read him at all. She had wished most of her life that she would find just one person on earth that she couldn't, but she was wary of Payne.

She remembered what was behind his eyes, remembered how black they had turned. And that warped evil sounding voice that she had committed to memory left her skin crawling. Only, her skin hadn't crawled last night. And like the near first kiss they had shared, the one last night left her as emotionally wrecked as a derailed train.

Payne was terrifying. He was a six-foot five-inch stack of muscles and dark desires. She couldn't help but be afraid of him, but every female instinct in her body demanded she want him. It wasn't a good combo, being afraid of what you wanted. Every time he got close to her, her body would shake, and she didn't know if it was the fear or the desire causing it. Or both.

He hadn't changed . . . much. Muscles were still as large and glorious as they had been eight years ago. He was still scary as hell with that apparently permanent sneer plastered on his well-formed lips. She sighed as she replayed the scene at the diner. Never in her life had she met a man equal to Payne, he was male, all the way to the bone.

Even Damon, in his magnificently handsome form, was not as blatantly sexually attractive as Payne. She suddenly wanted to scream. For the life of her, Chanta wanted to hate Damon, wanted to hear him beg for her forgiveness, but she knew in her heart that what he had done was simply his way of crossing Gyth. She had been nothing more than bait.

And now, she meant nothing more to Payne than an order from Gyth.

Chanta leaned against the wall of the diner and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and listened as the muffled sounds of a dozen people filled her mind. Concentrating on the male voice that boomed in the distance, she tried to push Payne out of her thoughts. It was Dave, the man she had hired to manage her diner. He was looking at the picture of his wife, Heather. Oh, how beautiful she is!

He loved his wife more than anything in the world and would die a thousand deaths for her. Chanta loved listening to his thoughts. He had a good heart although at times his thoughts did run astray. She grinned as he envisioned himself leaning across Heather in their bed the night before. She giggled and released his thoughts, those thoughts were much too private and she was sure her cheeks were getting rosy.

As she opened her eyes, she caught her breath. Barely inches in front of her Payne stood staring at her. His eyes were mute and she was sure he was not judging her, but still he was staring.

She forced a soft smile on her lips as her body instantly warmed and stepped beside him. He towered over her small frame and she had a sudden attack of unease. She still couldn't get any reading from him.

And if that wasn't bad enough, his black hair was down, not pulled back at the nape of his neck. His face was hard, the straight planes pulling tight against the muscles in his jaws. In that moment, she realized just how gorgeous he really was. A dark lethal beauty that only added to her body's hunger.

“You're late.”

“Not really, you specifically said somewhere around ten.” He paused and looked up at the nearly full moon. “And it's only ten after.”

Chanta strained to see his expression. “Maybe this wasn't a good idea.”

“Doesn't matter whether it was or not, we are both here already.” His voice was deep and gritty.

“The Burning hasn't begun. Perhaps we should reschedule.” And on that note, never seemed like a good plan.

“I won't be in this town for very long and time is of the essence.” He looked down at the top of her head. “Your blood is heating. I can smell it.”

“What? I don't stink.” Her face paled.

“No. It smells like honeysuckle and fresh rain. And it's getting stronger.” He paused, his head tilting to the side, his nostrils flaring slightly. “There's a storm brewing under your skin.”

Chanta turned to the diner feeling her cheeks burn. “Let's just go inside and grab a table.”

“I would prefer to stay outside.” He looked over his shoulder, his black trench coat swirling around his legs. “These people your diner caters to are disgusting.”

Chanta couldn't resist teasing him. “Oh really. The big scary man afraid of the gothic folk?”

Payne growled his disgust and grabbed the door handle. “After you, princess.”

Chanta grinned and his eyes sparkled, or did they? It was a fleeting expression and perhaps she read it wrong. She took a step through the door when she caught his smell. It was a stunning odor—clean, fresh, almost like the smell on a snowy day. And there was something else, a faint musk. She took a few more steps and wondered if it was Stetson cologne. It was a good smell and she liked it a lot, more than she was presently willing to admit.

Payne followed and pointed to the corner table. It was a safe distance from the other people in the diner and the shadows would hide his expressions if he were to let one slide to his face. And she really needed to see his expressions since she couldn't read his emotions.

“You hungry?”

His answer was curt. “No.”

“Well, I am. I'll be back in a sec.”

• • •

Payne sat with his back to the wall as she went to the counter. He watched carefully how her expressions changed as she passed the tables. He knew she was trying to block the thoughts that were no doubt filling her mind. It took a lot of practice and by her expressions, she was not as good at it as she wanted to be. He chuckled as her mouth flew open when she passed the skinny man with black painted lips. He directed the man's thoughts and a wry smile curled upon his lips.

The man was watching Chanta's rear and was wondering if she liked it doggie style. He had fantasized about her for months and would pull out his fingernails if she would let him lick her nipples. He would lay her over a chair arm and bang her until she went weak-kneed. She had a nice ass and he was sure she would taste like almonds.

Chanta's eyes were hard as steel as she ordered the cup of coffee, black. She followed the order with a large home fries and a grilled cheese. She grinned as she turned from the counter and retraced her steps past the skinny man. Payne almost burst out into laughter as she faked a fall and her coffee cup landed in the man's lap.

Payne choked his laughter down as she made sweet apologies and swiped at his chest with a napkin from the table. In her little charade, she purposely hit his plate and its contents spewed across his jacket. He cursed under his breath as Chanta slipped away and came to the table.

“I am so clumsy sometimes. Poor guy, I hope it didn't hurt much.”

Payne nodded. “I'm sure he may have done something today that warranted a rude awakening.”

Chanta's lips pressed together hard. “Yes, I'm sure of it as well.”

Payne fidgeted in his chair. He was not used to being around a woman, especially one he was taking a liking to. She was different from most humans. It was probably her empathic ability that made her seem different. He had no use for a woman in his life and he would have to block her out. He couldn't afford to let her get close.

“So. Where do you want to begin?”

He looked at her quizzically. “Do you want to eat first?”

“No, let's get started. I'm anxious to know some things and Varick said you would answer any questions that I have.”

He grunted. “So be it woman.”

Chanta frowned at Payne. “My name is not woman. It's Chanta.”

Payne grunted again and ran his hand through his hair as she spoke again. “If you don't mind me asking, why do you dress like that? Do you really like leather or do you like looking like a biker?”

“I have always worn leather.” Before she could answer, he added, “When I wear clothing at all.”

“Okay, okay. I didn't mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did. I like leather and it suits me. What about you, like looking like a gothic freak from hell?”

Chanta crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her tongue out at him. “I don't dress much different than you. Guess that makes us both freaks, now don't it?”

The waitress brought Chanta's plate and gave Payne a seductive look. “Can I get you anything?”

Payne grinned and ran his fingers across the top of her hand. “Scotch would taste good right now.”

The woman leaned forward and whispered. “We don't serve alcohol here, but I live just a few blocks away if you want to come by.”

Payne turned to Chanta who was rolling her eyes. “Now, just why would I want to go to your place?”

The woman leaned closer and whispered again. “I have scotch and I could give you anything you want.”

Chanta choked down a fry and made a gurgling cough sound. “Go the hell away, Brenda! You can have him when I'm through with him.”

Brenda turned on her heel and huffed as she wove through the other tables. One word came clearly across the room to slam into Chanta and Payne's minds. Bitch!

Chanta grinned as she looked up at Payne and decided to make a very long night talking to the man that every woman in the diner was now fantasizing about “What are they thinking right now?” Payne asked as her expression became determined.

“The truth?” She asked and he nodded his head. “That I'm going to make this a very long night sitting here talking to you since every female in this diner is fantasizing about you. And even if it kills me, which I figure it might, I'm going to leave here with you on my arm.”

He grinned and looked at Brenda. “You want to make her jealous?”

“No, just going to prove a point.” She looked into his dark smoldering eyes, almost sighed, but caught it before it slipped out her mouth. “And don't let that go to your head, I still don't like you.”

“Mind letting me know what that point is exactly?”

“That she can't have you until I'm done with you.”

“Honesty is not always the best policy.” His reply was low and she studied his face as he continued. “After all, we both know I am a big scary man and we know exactly what my intentions are with you.”

“Then by all means, let's hope the Burning starts soon.” Chanta paled. “So we can get it over with.”

“Are you ready to have sex with me, Chanta?” He smirked as she leaned back in her chair and stared at him. “Eight years ago you ran from me as if I was the devil himself.”

“I'm ready to do what I have to.” She didn't sound sure of herself. “And we both know what lurks under your skin.”

“That demon under my skin has saved countless lives, countless innocents. Best way to fight fire is with fire.” Payne leaned back in his chair and took a slow, deep breath. There was no reason to explain or justify what was within him, not to her or to anyone else. “You said you had questions.”

“Fire with fire? I totally disagree. You fight fire with water.” Chanta took a bite from the grilled cheese and nodded. “Who is Isten?”

“Isten?” Payne cursed under his breath. He had a bargain to keep with Isten, even if it killed him. “He created this universe.”

“I know that.” She finished off the sandwich, wiped her mouth. “So, is he still around somewhere?”

“I'm sure he is.”

She shook her head. “Can you imagine being that old?” She looked up, met his gaze. “How long have you been a Destroyer?”

“Far too long.”

Popping a french fry in her mouth, she chewed, and swallowed. “That's not really an answer. You're evading the question. Do you enjoy being a Destroyer?”

Nodding, Payne watched her eat another fry.

“Tell me about the Angels.”

“They reside on the lowest level of the Heavens. They watch over mankind much like the Destroyers watch over the One Race.”

“And the one called Elena? Who is she?”

Gritting his teeth, he shook his head. “Why do you want to know? The Angels don't have anything to do with the One Race.”

“Just curious.” She looked up, her jaw was flexing. And that was sexy. “You know, if I had a choice, I wouldn't have picked you for this.”

He barked a laugh. “Don't feel lonely. If I had a choice, I wouldn't take you through the Burning. It's not a job anyone takes on lightly.”

Her rejection hit something in his chest with a ping, felt like acid running in streaks along his skin. He tried to convince himself he didn't want her.

Her eyes misted. “I could die.”

Payne only nodded. No reassurance from him. No emotion either.