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Authors: Robyn Bachar

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BOOK: Fire in the Blood
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“How bothersome.”

That was Harvey, king of understatements. I fished my specs out of my bag and started combing through the chaos for my coat. “Just go wait in the car,” I ordered. “I need to stop Dan and Andy before they tweet about this.”

Chapter Three

“I’d really rather just go home. To my home,” I repeated as I pulled into the parking garage. At this point I was just being whiney, but I couldn’t help it. I’d had a bad night—a series of bad nights, thanks to the demon invasion.

“I know, but your place isn’t safe.” Faust rubbed my knee in what I assumed was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it sent my mind spinning in another direction, specifically of the conversation we’d had in my office earlier. I didn’t want to continue that conversation. “You can park there. It’s one of my spaces.”

“One of? How many do you have?” I asked.

“Three. I keep one open for guests.”

Parking spots are prime real estate in the city. I only have one spot at my condo, and I pondered adding more as I pulled my car into the spot.

“May I stay here, Mistress?” Harvey asked from the backseat.

“Here? In the garage? Really?” I asked, surprised.

“I would rather not be in the area should you and your lover become amorous.”

I sighed. I didn’t think that was on the menu, considering how injured I was at the moment. My tumble down the stairs had turned me into a walking bruise.

Faust turned and peered back at the demon. “I have a guest room. You’re welcome to it.”

“I don’t get the guest room?” I asked.

“No, you don’t,” he replied simply.

Or maybe sex was on the menu after all. Staying with Faust was a terrible idea, but with Kristoff Valkyrie and an unknown vampire assassin gunning for me, I needed all the help I could get. Having Faust on my side was in my best interest. Besides, I was pretty sure said vampire assassin was at my place right that moment, probably perusing my movie collection or nosing through my underwear drawer.

“Harvey gets the guest room. We’ll try to keep the volume down,” I promised.

My demon didn’t seem pleased by the idea, but he followed as we took the elevator up into the building. A Zachary Harrison–owned building, I noted from the signage around the place. I wondered if Harrison knew about Faust and me. I hoped not. I didn’t want to get into another brawl if there was a vampire waiting to pounce in Faust’s place. The elevator brought us up to the penthouse—of course, nothing but the best for the associates of Zachary Harrison. He was rich, famous, powerful, handsome and he gave me the creeps. Unlike Faust, he pinged my evil radar, which was why I kept our visits to a minimum even before he put a hit out on me.

I eyed the décor while Faust showed Harvey to the guest room. It was surprisingly bland and conservative for a faerie’s home, because they’re usually into bling and bold colors. The place was bigger than my condo, but I tied up a lot of my money in investments and savings instead of luxury. If I lived long enough to retire, I’d be a millionaire when I did. Judging by the size, I was willing to bet there was more than one guest room in a place this big, but I didn’t call Faust on it. Yet. It would depend on how our conversation went.

I went in search of the kitchen, and more importantly, of a cold beverage. A glass of wine would be nice, but I was just plain thirsty and I’d settle for anything. Food would also be helpful after my trip down the stairs. I opened the cabinets, looking for a water glass, but the shelves were empty. No food, no dishes. The fridge was empty too, but then again my fridge was pretty bare. I collected condiments, soda and expired take-out. Poor Harvey was very tired of me asking him to smell things to see if they’d gone bad.

“Here. Try this,” Faust said from behind me.

I turned and he offered me a plain white coffee mug of pink drink, the faerie version of a medicinal energy drink. It’d cure all my aches, pains, cuts and bruises—hell, it could probably bring me back from the dead.

“I’m not hurt that bad,” I protested.

“You need your strength.” He smiled, and I peered at him warily.

“Why, what do you have planned?”

His grin widened, and I walked away to sit on a stool next to the kitchen island. I sipped the drink and wondered what it tasted like. Delicious, probably. I missed delicious, it was a distant memory. Healing magic tingled from my lips to my toes and back in a prickly wave.

“You have history with this shadow demon?” Faust asked.

“Kris? We go way back, and I’m not his favorite person. Look, I know you’re wound up about Harrison’s hired killer, but this is worse. Kris is an ancient demon. He shouldn’t be able to get through to this world, and now that he’s here, I’m not sure I can send him back. It’s never happened before that I know of. I sure as hell don’t have a spell that’ll banish him.”

Faust tilted his head to the side and stroked his chin as though he had an invisible beard. Did faeries shave? Doubtful. “You need more information. You should speak with a chronicler.”

I smiled dryly over the rim of my mug. “A chronicler’s the reason I’m in trouble with Kris and your buddy Harrison. I’m pretty sure Simon St. Jerome sent the Titania my way to get her ritual, and we got it from Kris. I kicked his ass for it, and it must’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Ah. I see.”

“No, you really don’t. If I can banish Kris, and that’s a big
if
, I’ll have to finish the job in the shadow realm. I can’t let him go this time. He’ll keep coming at me until one of us is dead.”

“Didn’t you say that people try to kill you all the time?”

The corners of my mouth twitched, and I bit back my response. There’s a reason I haven’t killed Kris before now. Fighting him was within my ability, but killing an ancient demon takes a lot more power. I’d have to trade a piece of my soul to do it, and I didn’t have any more to spare. Summoners trade bits and pieces of our souls away for favors and power, like I’d foolishly traded my sense of taste to win over a boy. Every bit of soul lost is a bit of demon gained, hence my yellow eyes. I’d done enough bad things that I was on the verge of tipping from human to demon. An act like killing Kris would finish me, but I couldn’t tell Faust that, so I chose a different truth instead.

“I’m afraid of him. I’ve kicked his ass a dozen times, but I can’t kill him.”

His face sobered. “I’ll do it,” he offered.

I blinked. “You’re going to slay my demons for me, babe?” I meant it as a joke, but he didn’t laugh.

“Yes,” he replied. It was so simple, so matter-of-fact. My dark knight.

I pulled my specs off and rubbed at my eyes, feeling a headache push through the effects of the pink drink. Maybe I’d be lucky and it’d be a fatal brain aneurism, and I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this.

“Is that so bad?” he asked softly. His voice was much closer, and I flinched as I opened my eyes and spotted him standing next to me. Pink drink sloshed over the sides of the mug and puddled on the granite top of the island.

“Damn it, I’m going to put a bell on you,” I muttered.

“Is it?” he prompted.

“I fight my own battles.”

“Technically you don’t, because Harvey helps you,” he pointed out.

“That’s different. And why the sudden change of heart? You haven’t said one word about love or romance before. Am I extra attractive now that I’m a damsel in distress?” I reached up and yanked off his glasses, because I was tired of him hiding behind them without a damn good reason. If we were going to have a state of our union address, I wanted to see his uncensored facial expressions.

He peered at me, and I resisted the urge to squirm. “So our time together meant nothing to you?”

I turned my attention back to sipping my drink while my inner monologue screamed,
Lie to him, already!
An irritated growl rumbled up through my chest—yet another demon trait, because normal people don’t growl like angry dogs.

“It’s not like that,” I admitted.

“What
is
it like?” He blinked his pretty black eyelashes at me—I swear, he could star in a mascara commercial—and I sighed.

“It’s like a plateful of drama with a side of crazy sauce. I knew from day one that this wasn’t going to last because you’re going to live forever, so I figured I’d enjoy it until you moved on to the next. It ain’t pretty, but that’s how it is.” I set the mug down and looked for paper towels to clean up the syrupy spill. I suck at meaningful conversation, because I prefer action to talk. My hands itched because I just needed something constructive to
do
.

“You could live forever.” I shot him a confused glance, and he clarified, “You could become a necromancer.”

“I’m sure Harrison would just
love
that. I’m no necro. I never wanted that.” I checked under the sink and found more empty cabinets. “What’s the point of having your own place if you don’t have anything in it?”

Faust shrugged. “My needs are simple.”

“Right. Just so we’re clear, exactly what do you
need
from me?”

He glided toward me and pinned me against the cabinets, his arms to either side of my waist. My pulse revved and I swallowed hard. “I want you, Patience.”

“That’s too vague. Specifics, babe. You want a house? Kids? A Labradoodle? Spit it out.”

“What is a Labradoodle?” he asked, frowning.

“A designer dog. Don’t dodge the issue.”

“I will marry you, if that is what you want.”

The floor fell out from under me, or at least it felt that way. I was fairly certain my stomach plummeted down after it, and probably my jaw as well. Maybe I really did hit my head on the way down those stairs and I was still hallucinating all this. My first instinct was to accuse him of not being serious, but this wasn’t a joking matter, and his expression was sincere. But still, faeries didn’t marry magicians. We’re flings, and occasionally baby mommas, but not spouses…wait a minute. My brain ground to a halt.

“You want kids,” I accused.

“Of course. I love children.”

Sure, I entertained the idea in my daydreams, and it’d been a recurring theme after I turned thirty, but in reality I wasn’t ready for that. I planted my palms against his chest and shoved him. “No. No way. I’m way too busy. Not to mention bitchy. And the world’s going to end any day now.”

“I think you’d make a wonderful mother.”

“Well then you must be high. This is crazy…I need a drink. Don’t tell me the bar is empty too.”

“It is. I’m sorry.” Faust took a step back and folded his hands in front of him. “Here, I’ll make matters simple. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll drop the subject and never speak of it again.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It seems reasonable to me.” He smiled, and I wanted to smack him. Or kiss him. Maybe both. Damn it…I threw my hands up in defeat.

“All right, fine. I love you. But I’m not marrying you or breeding with you, so don’t even bother asking. Now, I’ve had a long day, and the forces of darkness are lining up for the privilege of killing me, so can we just shut up and go to sleep?”

Faust grinned, the very definition of a dazzling smile with his perfect white teeth, and then he pounced on me. I squeaked in surprise, because I was serious about the needing sleep bit. Good thing the pink drink cured what ailed me and I wouldn’t have to worry about making my injuries worse.

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately, and when I came up for air it took me a moment to remember what I was going to scold him about. “Exactly what part of
sleep
did you not understand?”

“You can sleep all you want, after I make love to you,” he assured me. We were about eye to eye, and I shivered. Ice-blue eyes shouldn’t be able to smolder like that, but there was fire in his blood, just as it was in mine. I had a legitimate fear that one night we’d accidentally set the room ablaze and let it burn down around us.

He led me from the room before I could think up a witty retort. The master bedroom was also filled with bland furniture, though the bed was enormous. What’s bigger than king-sized? Emperor? Curious, I opened the closet and found it as empty as the kitchen.

“Do you own anything?” I asked, shaking my head as I stood in the doorway.

“As I said, my needs are simple.” He slipped his arms around me and kissed the back of my neck. I expected more would follow, but he simply held me until I relaxed against him. I’m not usually the cuddly sort, but it was rather nice.

“Is this the part where you say that all you need is me?” I guessed, and he chuckled.

“Of course.”

I shook my head, and then twisted to face him. “Why? I’m sure there are plenty of witches out there who would be happy to swoon over you and have nice, fat babies.”

Faust smirked. “I like my women with a little fire in them.”

“Ugh. That’s a terrible pun.”

His grin widened, and then he unbuttoned my blouse with slow, languid movements. My brow rose. I’d lost a lot of buttons and ruined perfectly good shirts thanks to him, so this was a new development. When the last button was undone, I slipped the blouse off and let it fall to the floor in a puddle of battered, bloodstained silk.

BOOK: Fire in the Blood
4.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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