Unearthed (24 page)

“What did you do?” Keira asked.

“You’re giving me shit for making two people very happy. That’s not right, hunter. I swear, I just can’t win with you.” His smirk gave away how much he cared about that. “We might not have drink service for a while though, and I hope you don’t need to use the bathroom any time soon, because it’s going to be occupied.”

No more than two seconds later the ‘occupied’ sign lit up.

“Damn, I should’ve made her wait until after we’d gotten a snack.”

“Are you—?”

He shut her up by covering her mouth with his. His lips were hotter than they’d been less than a minute ago. Or was that just her reaction to him? She moaned softly when he swept his tongue across hers. His fingers brushed across her hip as he loosened her seatbelt strap and rested his hand on the inside of her thigh, massaging.

She pushed his hand away, hoping he’d be as stubborn as usual and refuse to budge. Thank the heavens, he was.

“Davyn,” she said into his mouth. “Wait, you’re heating up.”

“I know. Why else would I be kissing you?”

Well, wasn’t that a buzz kill.
She grabbed his hand off her leg, pushing him in the chest with her other. “I thought we were never going to do that again.”

“I said that, didn’t I? Don’t worry, hunter. You’re safe here, surrounded by people. If only I weren’t bound to my seat by this puny little strap of cloth that is holding me back from doing what I really want to do to you right now. If there was any way—any way at all—to break free from it, I would pick you up, carry you down the aisle over my shoulder, and have my way with you in that tiny little bathroom once the stewardess and that guy are done with it. Damn this belt. Damn it to hell.”

“You’re not funny.”

Smiling, he adjusted his very hard cock, and she tried not to watch. “So did you think that one was as gross and awkward as the last one, hunter? Or am I improving?”

For the rest of the flight, Davyn only touched Keira’s hand, sending a constant, uncomfortable flow of heat into her. She fidgeted and tried to focus on anything other than him. Feeling his heat travel to places it shouldn’t go, or shouldn’t
stay
at least, was more confusing than painful. It was all she could do to make her moans sound like sighs of annoyance. He’d stopped asking her if she was all right about twenty minutes ago, probably to avoid hearing her snap, ‘I’m fine,’ at him again.

As soon as they landed, he let go of her. They stayed at least a foot away from each other after they debarked. The flight attendant was flustered and smiling. At least
somebody
had a satisfying trip.

“We have a few hours to kill before the flight back. Do you want to go to the beach?” The question was meant to sound flippant, sarcastic, but it came out as if she was asking him out. A demon. The idea of either of them dating was farcical, and the idea of them dating
each other
would keep her laughing until hell froze over.

“I never pictured you as a long-walk-on-the-beach kind of girl. But no. The salty air is bad for my skin, and I burn easily.” He laughed. “I think I’ll stay inside. Heat is great, but demons prefer the desert kind.”

She hadn’t even thought about that. “Then what do you want to do?”

“Stay inside. Maybe get a room. Interested?”

“Not going to happen.”

“You don’t trust me, hunter?” he asked wickedly. “You know that seatbelt wasn’t what held me back, don’t you?”

“Well, it couldn’t possibly be that you respect me. Sorry, do demons even know that word?”

He looked pained, as if her comment had hurt him.

“I haven’t been to the beach in a long time,” she said quickly, “so I’ll see you in an hour.” She fled towards the long row of cabs. When she looked back, he was gone. Good. Because she hated the beach. Saltwater reminded her too much of things she wanted to forget. She went back inside the airport and found a great place to hide.

Desire she could deal with, ignore. But this? No, this was impossible. Constantly filling her mind, making her say horrifying things. She didn’t flirt! Not even when she was a teenager, before she died, back when her life had been nothing but good. Keira had always been honest, straightforward, blunt. Games were what other people played. Her father taught her that if she wanted something, she had to ask for it, go after it, win it. Do whatever it took and never give up. She’d forgotten that a few times during her imprisonment, but she wouldn’t ever again.

Except when it came to Davyn and these damn feelings. The only thing she wanted was for them to go away. Not because they’d never go anywhere, or she didn’t want to be hurt, or anything stupid like that. They were distracting. And while a distraction might make Davyn hesitate, it would get
her
killed.

Davyn didn’t go to a hotel or anywhere else. He stayed where he could see her without her seeing him. He did a lot of pacing too, and cursing, grumbling, and muttering incoherently, even to himself. That hunter had messed with his head so badly that he was having trouble messing with
other
people’s heads. He couldn’t even find something workable without wondering if the temptation would hurt anyone else. Who the fuck cared? Demons didn’t. Davyn didn’t.

Until now.

He didn’t say much when he “came back” to the airport because he didn’t know what the fuck
to
say. Turned out he wasn’t as chatty after hours of hating himself and wanting to smash a wall in, just so his head would be useful for something. ’Cause lately he couldn’t think of anything else it was good for.

He didn’t say much on the airplane because he wanted to remember it, and he barely touched her—releasing his heat into her arm because every other part of her body was dangerous.
More
dangerous.

He didn’t say
anything
after they landed in S.F., because if he opened his mouth something stupid would probably come out. He was still high on being above the clouds. They were so beautiful, he’d almost wanted to cry. Thankfully, he hadn’t, as that would prove how much of a fucking wuss he’d become, but it was a close call.

Too damn human-ish.

Kissing her had been a mistake. He tried to blame it on adrenaline, even though demons didn’t produce it. All his other hormones had been fully involved, though. Big mistake. Especially when it started to feel natural, normal, like he’d found where his lips were supposed to be. He gave up trying to rationalize the talking. Talking like…

“Shit.” Yeah, they’d talked. Shared.
Fucking horrific.

“What?” she asked, wiping the sweat off her forehead like everyone else in the plane. Evidently, there was a problem with the temperature control that the flight attendants couldn’t figure out. Of course, the hunter probably blamed
him
…rightfully.

“Nothing.” He’d never questioned the fifty years, except to complain it wasn’t long enough, just like every other Level One did. Now he wasn’t so sure. If he hadn’t gotten that six-month bonus from Rhyse, this shit wouldn’t be happening.

Just outside the airport doors, he stopped. “That was…” It was a deal. She’d held up her end. He would hold up his end. Then it would be over. “It was…”

“Weird,” she offered. “And this is awkward, so I’m gonna go.”

“Me too.”

“I need my hand back.”

He didn’t believe it until he saw it. “Did I do that?”

“Yeah.”

“You were supposed to kick me in the face.”

“We’re in public. People would’ve noticed.”

“Should’ve done it anyway.” Her cheeks were so pink, he wondered if it was an effect of his heat. “Was it too much for you?”

“Your temperature or the…um…way you vented?” Blushing was a totally normal human reaction for anyone other than her. The hunter didn’t blush.

Maybe he was seeing things—their hands bound together, the increased color in her cheeks. An effect of the altitude, maybe. Hell, he’d take just about any explanation other than the one going through his mind.

“It was okay,” she said, before quickly adding, “The heat, I mean. The other part sucked. If you do it again, you’ll get a lot more than a kick in the face.”

“It won’t happen again. Heat of the moment—meant both ways.”

“I was thinking of going back to Lamere’s pretty soon.” Looking for a fight. “Are you in?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “You’re not allowed to hunt at night, and I already have plans.”

“Doing what?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “If you’re going after him without me—”

“No worries, puppet. I promise to go out, get loaded, and fuck around with as many minds as I can.” Burn off some steam the old-fashioned way, like he was supposed to. “Then I’ll get together with a female demon and spend the rest of the night fucking around with her.” Like he was supposed to.

He should’ve been happy she flinched. That’s why he’d said it, the reaction he’d wanted. But he wasn’t happy, he was really fucking
un
happy. And that realization made him even more so. “I’ll be at your place around noon tomorrow.”

“Noon,” she repeated. “Wow, okay.” She spun around and headed for the line of taxis. “Have fun.”

Fun? Not likely. Twenty minutes ago, he’d been above the clouds. A couple hours ago, he’d been above the clouds kissing a human. It hadn’t been fun as much as perfect. The most perfect day he’d ever had.

“Keira,” he called, but she was already gone. That hunter disappeared like a demon.

He was going to get shit-faced. So shit-faced, he’d forget about her and all the fucking humanity he’d accumulated. Good thing his place was fireproof, because he had about six hundred degrees to burn off.

But he needed to talk to someone first, and all that heat might come in handy.

Davyn wasn’t sure if it was confidence, trust, or stupidity, but the Prime didn’t keep wards up to make sure no one popped into his office unexpected. He’d learn his lesson as soon as he saw the demon. Because Davyn was pretty sure this was all the bastard’s fault.

“You fucking did this to me, vamp. You.”

Rhyse raised his head slowly from the papers on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps, although I will need more information to know for certain.”

“Six months. An extra six months topside.”

“Yes. I suppose I did that.”

“And this job going after Lamere.”

“I did that too. However, I fail to see what there is to be angry about. Time, money, and an opportunity to kill someone. Is that not all every demon wants?” Most of the time, yeah. But unfortunately, that wasn’t all Davyn wanted anymore. “I also distinctly recall canceling that contract with you yet paying your entire fee.”

Rhyse didn’t care about the money, so why had he canceled the contract? Something wasn’t right and, for his own sanity, Davyn needed to know what it was.

“What was it with you and the vitae? What was going on between the two of you?”

Rhyse was still for a moment, probably weighing all the reasons he should send the demon back to hell versus what he’d traded to keep him here. “Nothing is going on between the two of us.”

Is?
“I don’t mean
now
. I mean six months ago. I saw you two looking at each other in the witch’s barn, all sappy and shit. Between that and the way you’re looking at me now—like you want to kill me just for mentioning her—I’m guessing it was something.”

Since Rhyse was back in business with all his power, Davyn had assumed the vitae died—probably not from natural causes. But now he knew he’d assumed wrong. Why would the vampire let her live, knowing she could destroy him?
Motherfucker
. Davyn knew the answer, because he’d done it too.

“I’m cursed by proximity,” he mumbled.

“What are you talking about, demon?”

He took a breath, not sure of anything, but needing someone else to blame. “Was this part of the deal you made with my boss? Did you set me up for something, Rhyse? Change me, curse me, so when I go back to hell, I won’t come back?”

“You were not involved in any way other than the procured six months. What is all this about?”

They weren’t friends, weren’t of the same race or status, but Davyn had more respect for the Prime than for anyone else in this world or any other. When the vamp made the wrong call about something, he made it right. He was fair and honest, something impossible to find in a demon. Except for him, a lot more frequently than he’d like. That was something Davyn hated and also valued in himself, because when Davyn was created, something got fucked up.

Exactly what he’d used to get himself out of Nine. What made his opponents and the trials on each level beatable. What made his journey from the bottom of hell to the top the fastest that had ever been.

A lot of fucking good that did him now.

“Are you absolutely sure that was the only way I was involved with the deal, Rhyse?”

He hesitated. “No.”

Davyn growled and started pacing in front of the fireplace. “I warned you, vamp. That’s why I didn’t want you to deal with him.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Well, fuck him. I’m not going to do it, not going to give in. He can go fuck himself if he thinks I will. I would never do that, especially not to her.”

“Do what to whom?” Rhyse stood from his chair. “Either tell me what you are talking about or leave me alone, demon.”

“The hunter from the Rising. She’s different, and I don’t mean unpleasantly different. More like different in a very unhealthy way for someone like me. Well, pretty much just me, I think. ’Cause nobody else would be this stupid.”

“That is unfortunate.” Rhyse sat down. “You went against my orders and are now attracted to a seer. Attracted enough to be tempted to consider the unimaginable.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve already
done
the unimaginable.”

Rhyse shot back out of his chair and had Davyn by the throat before the last word had been spoken. “You ruined her?”

“Do you think I’m insane? Of course I didn’t. You’d have sensed it. Now get off me before I forget you’re the Prime.” His voice dropped to a mumble. “Think I’d do that? What the fuck? You’ve known me for centuries, seen me do a lot of shit I’m not supposed to do, but that? A little trust would be nice.”