Read What a Demon Wants Online

Authors: Kathy Love

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BOOK: What a Demon Wants
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The next full moon was about five days away. It wasn’t unusual for him to start feeling its effects, but this wasn’t the usual result. Instead of alertness and the desire to fight, he felt jittery and—well, for a lack of a more eloquent term—horny.

Increased sexual desire wasn’t odd. As the moon grew in the sky, his body seemed to pump more and more testosterone into his bloodstream. This wasn’t just a drive for sex.

This was an almost irrational need to have Ellina for himself. To possess her. That was not normal.

There had to be a reasonable explanation for this reaction.

When he reached the living room, Jude let out the groan that had been begging for release. Then he began to pace; his movements were tense and abrupt like those of an agitated, caged animal.

He sat down at his computer, trying to find some answers for what was plaguing him, but nothing he found sounded exactly what he was experiencing. Not that he expected to find answers. He was an anomaly—one of a kind. Werewolf lore didn’t apply to him—

neither did vampire.

Still, focusing on his research helped him calm down. He gave up on his searches and roamed the house again, checking the locks and windows. Probably pointless, but it made him feel like he was doing something. He wandered into her office.

He did feel calmer. He was sure the added space between himself and Ellina was helping too. That electrical bond had not totally disappeared, but it was becoming manageable. Less frenzied, less all-encompassing.

Determined to banish the foreign feelings even further, he returned to his computer.

Work would help, even if it involved the object of his sudden, fierce lust.

Breathing slowing, a technique he’d used for years, centuries, to control his moon-inspired loss of control, he reopened his search engine. Then he typed in Ellina Kostova.

The results came up almost instantly. Thousands and thousands of results. All about Ellina and her books. Jude clicked the first one and began reading.

Over an hour and several dozen links later, Jude knew about her books, about the widespread popularity of them. There were nearly a million Jenny Bell novels in print—and by all accounts the New Orleans–based author was very private. He did find a few interviews, but they disclosed very little about Ellina herself.

In fact, he felt like in the brief amount of time he’d spent with her he’d learned more about her than was revealed in the dozens of articles he read.

One thing did stand out though. All the pieces he’d read implied that Ellina had always shunned the limelight. Some even implied that she was agoraphobic.

Was she? He couldn’t say why, but that wasn’t something he would have guessed about her. She was too open. Too curious and vocal. She didn’t strike him as someone who could be happy hiding from the world.

But he supposed she could be. Then he recalled Maksim had said she wasn’t home when any of the breakins occurred. So agoraphobia seemed unlikely unless it was a very mild case.

The other thing he learned was that if the person who was after her was a fan, there were literally millions of potential suspects. That was daunting.

Jude shut his computer down and packed it up in its case along with his notes, all the while still considering who could be threatening her. He wasn’t really hired to act as a detective, but it sure as hell would help him keep her safe if he had some idea whom or what he was protecting her from.

He stood, stretching, and was relieved that his body had finally calmed. He headed down the hallway, checking the kitchen, then flipping off the light. He paused outside Ellina’s bedroom door. He could hear her even breathing.

Asleep. That was good.

He didn’t linger there long. That strange electric tingle reached out to him again like pleasing, luring, invisible fingers. So, so tempting.

But he needed to remain self-possessed.

He spun away from the temptation and strode into her office. Her computer still hummed and cast an eerie blue light against the walls. Jude didn’t touch it, afraid if he shut the machine down, he would lose some of her work or some important research.

Her desk was still littered with her piles of papers, but given the many neat stacks, it looked as if she’d made some headway.

He rechecked the door, even though he already knew it was locked. Staying at the door, he perused the courtyard lit by moonlight. Everything seemed quiet. That was good.

Turning to leave, his gaze fell on the bookshelves. He’d put all the books back, but hadn’t really looked at them too closely. He stopped and browsed the shelves. Impulsively, he pulled down the first of Ellina’s fantasy books, Jenny Bell and Hell’s Kitchen.

Then he returned to the living room and picked up his bags, continuing to the guest bedroom.

As he had earlier, he surveyed the room again, making note of problems and benefits.

The room was small and mostly taken up by a full-size bed, which would make quick movements a little problematic.

Of course, the fact that he didn’t sleep gave him some advantage, and the fact that the room was connected to Ellina’s via the bathroom made it easier to get to her from here than from the living room.

He set one of the bags on the side of the bed away from the bathroom door and clear of the door that led back to the living room. The other he set down on the bed.

Carefully, he unzipped the case. The sides parted to reveal a fairly impressive arsenal. To one side of the bag was his Benelli Super Eagle II shotgun, already loaded with what was known as the highway patrol cocktail—alternating double-0 shot and pumpkin-ball slugs. Of course, in his case Jude also added rock salt to the alternating mix. The double-0 shredded, the slugs let daylight through, and the rock salt, well that just added insult to injury—especially to evil spirits and demons. The ammo wouldn’t kill the supernatural, but the wounds and rock salt would sure as hell slow them down.

On the other side of the bag was a sheathed katana sword. The 26" high-carbon steel gave him the angle and power to cleanly behead a vampire or werewolf if he needed to do so.

Immortal was such a misnomer when it came to these two paranormal creatures.

They wouldn’t die of natural causes, of course, and they were fairly impervious to traditional accidents, but they sure as hell could be killed. Not many creatures lived through the loss of their head.

He removed the sword and placed it under the mattress of the bed, close enough to the edge that he could grab it easily.

In one of the padded pistol pouches he had a Kel-Tec P-II, but he didn’t take out that weapon. Instead he reached for his Glock 21. His favorite.

He placed the pistol on the nightstand, then he refastened the bag and slid this one under the bed. Definitely not the type of luggage he wanted easily accessible to anyone other than himself.

Plus he instinctively knew that kind of weaponry would unnerve Ellina. It would unnerve most people, but he got the feeling it would really bother her. Probably because it would be another unwanted reminder that she could be in grave danger.

Despite the fact his theories had shaken her, she still seemed pretty determined not to believe.

He settled on the bed, moving the Glock to rest beside him on the mattress, easily within reach. He opened Ellina’s book, but before he started reading, he centered his energy on the house, and again on Ellina.

All was fine. Calm.

Well, almost all was calm.

He flipped open the book, forcing himself to focus on the words in front of him.

Ellina’s words.

And he’d make himself remain in this calm, zen like state.

Chapter 10

By the time the sun rose, Jude had read the first Jenny Bell book and snagged another one while doing an early morning house check. He could see why they’d gained the popularity they had.

Ellina’s writing was snappy and clever; her plots took interesting twists, and even though he hadn’t expected to like this type of story, he had to admit he was sucked in.

He made a note of the page number he’d just finished, then set the book on the nightstand. His stomach growled loudly, telling him that he’d stayed in bed long enough.

Another endless night over.

During the night, he’d changed into just a pair of sweatpants. There was no sleep, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be comfortable. He debated dressing, but decided against it.

His stomach was too impatient for him to worry about fashion.

He opened the drawer to the nightstand, noting that the only things in there were some books—mainstream fiction type stuff—and some tissues. He placed the pistol on top of the items inside, sliding the drawer closed.

The sun shone through the living room windows, glistening on the hardwood floors.

The bright, cheery light even warmed and softened the fairy-tale colors of the walls and furniture. As he strolled through the room, he realized there was something very cozy about her place.

A sense of peace filled him—then instantly unnerved him.

Cozy was not something he ever considered. Of course, he’d find just about anyplace cozy after living in cheap hotels and his van.

When was the last time he’d had a real home?

Don’t be nostalgic, buddy. No point.

Once in the kitchen, he began to scavenge—and scavenge was the right word. Ellina was not big on grocery shopping. That was clear. But he did find eggs, a small can of jalapeños, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, a little leftover garlic.

With the mishmash of ingredients in front of him, he considered what he could make.

A recipe came to mind, and he started to work. He moved with the stealth of a cat burglar.

It was still early and he didn’t want to wake Ellina.

He knew she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. He’d gone into the bathroom around two A.M. and was surprised to see a faint gleam of lamplight glowing from under her bedroom door. She must have slept only a while, then woke up.

He’d remained on the other side of the door, listening. He’d heard the flip of a page.

Then another. She was reading. Or from what he’d seen of Ellina, maybe working. The same greeted him at three A.M. and again at four A.M.

When Jude checked again at five o’clock, her light was off, and he could even make out the faint, even sound of her breathing. He’d stood there for countless seconds just listening to the soft, rhythmic sound.

He couldn’t actually say his motives for letting her sleep were totally altruistic. He was enjoying the easy feeling of a quiet Sunday morning.

Oh, he could sense her. But it was a calm, steady sensation at the moment. Almost nice. He finished shredding the cheese, then chopped some tomato, then opened and drained the jalapeños. The systematic work was soothing as it always was to him.

Carefully he tapped an egg on the edge of the mixing bowl, then another and another.

A soft metallic clack filled the room as he whisked them to a frothy, yellow liquid.

At first, he didn’t register the faint noise over the whisk and his own serene thoughts.

The sound was so subtle. Then it happened again, a little louder, and Jude realized it was not one of the normal “house” sounds that he’d become familiar with over the course of the night.

He set down the bowl and stuck his head out the kitchen door, focusing. But he didn’t even need his keen senses to hear the distinct rattle and swoosh of the front door opening.

Instead of heading toward the sound, he turned out of the kitchen and ducked into the bathroom. Then, moving quickly, silently, he entered the guest bedroom. Keeping his movement as swift as he could without making any noise, he eased open the nightstand drawer and got his Glock.

Gun up in front of him, he stepped out of the bedroom into the living room just in time to see a man entering the hallway toward where Ellina slept.

“Okay, bitch,” the intruder called out, “Get your lazy as—”

The man’s words broke off with a sharp oof as Jude caught his arm, twisted it, and then shoved him hard against the wall. Jude kept the gun at his side. The stranger seemed to be putting up no fight, so there was no need for firearms.

Unless necessary.

“Who the hell are you?” Jude growled, his voice low as he used his own weight to keep the man pinned. The intruder, while tense, remained still. Wise choice. He wouldn’t have any chance against Jude. The energy coming off him was human.

“Pete,” the intruder said.

“Pete?” Ellina echoed.

Jude turned slightly, not lessening his hold to see Ellina standing at the end of the hall, echoing his name. And she sounded even less pleased than the intruder.

She strode toward him, her lips pressed into a firm line, and Jude instinctively hid his gun, pressing it to the leg that was away from her. If she didn’t like the manhandling, she really would hate the weapon.

“Jude. Let him go!”

Jude didn’t.

“Who is he?” he asked instead.

“My neighbor,” Ellina said, her irritation undeniable now.

Pete held his hands up.

“I’m the neighbor.” His words were slurred slightly, because of the way Jude had his arm pressing the man’s face to the wall.

Jude loosened his hold, but didn’t release him totally.

“How’d you get in?”

“The front door,” Peter said.

“He has a key,” Ellina added.

She placed her hands on her hips, giving him a full view of her scant nightwear. He was instantly reminded of the tiny nightgown he’d seen in her closet. This outfit wasn’t quite as tiny as that one, but damned close. A camisole top revealed her smooth, bare shoulders, and short-shorts showed just how long and shapely her legs were.

He blinked, realizing he was staring, and she was glaring back.

“Jude, let my friend go. Now.”

Jude did—the action automatic, because he was so stunned by the sight of her, not because he agreed that he should.

As soon as Pete was released, he didn’t waste a moment. He skittered away from Jude, moving closer to Ellina. Jude managed to tear his gaze away from Ellina and to the intruder—or rather Pete.

He was 5'10" or 11", only a couple inches taller than Ellina. He had an athletic build, not brawny but not wiry either. Pete’s hair was somewhere between light brown and gray, which seemed to hint that he could be older than Jude, except his features were smooth and unwrinkled. Baby-faced, Jude guessed was the term that would be used for his look. All Jude knew was it made it difficult to estimate an age.

And Jude noticed for the first time that he also had small headsets in each ear.

Hearing aids?

“Are you okay?” Ellina asked, turning all her attention on her friend. Her friend didn’t do the same. He kept a wary eye on Jude.

“I’m fine.”

Jude regarded him the same way. Maksim hadn’t mentioned anyone named Pete on his list of potential threats, but Jude wasn’t willing to dismiss him without knowing more.

Who was he? And what was his relationship to Ellina?

“Come sit down,” Ellina said, looping her arm through the other man’s, brushing past Jude and leading her friend to the living room. Jude didn’t miss the look she cast him as she did so. He also didn’t miss the easy way she touched the man. No reluctance like when he touched her.

A wave of the same overwhelming possessiveness from last night swept through him. His muscles tensed. His jaw clenched.

He started to follow, but as he did, she glanced at him over her shoulder, the narrowed glare warning him to back off.

Despite his gut impulse, he did what she silently asked. Or ordered, really.

Besides, he still held the gun, and frankly, at the moment, he didn’t quite trust himself with something that could do some major damage to the mere mortal man at her side.

That she touched.

Jude didn’t move out of the hallway, and he heard Pete ask in a hushed tone as they disappeared into the living room, “Who is that?”

“Long story,” was Ellina’s response, and she sounded none too happy.

Jude lingered in the hallway, then decided there was no point. Even if this Pete was a physical threat, he wasn’t going to be foolish enough to do something with Jude right here.

It would be too risky. And more foolhardy than he could guess.

Jude glanced at the gun still at his side, then decided it was safe to return it to his room. Not to mention, no matter how many times it might have been done in movies, he wasn’t about to stick the pistol in the waistband of his pants. That was a good way to lose what was already in his pants. And he was pretty fond of what he had in his pants, even if he didn’t use it nearly as much as he’d like. With that thought, his mind was back to how Ellina looked in her tiny pajamas, and she was in that minuscule garment with this guy named Pete.

He gritted his teeth and headed to his room via the bathroom. Pausing at the end of the bed, he considered quietly approaching the door that led back to the living room, but he caught himself. He quietly stashed the weapon, then went back to the kitchen.

The bowl of waiting eggs suddenly didn’t represent the peaceful Sunday zen they had before. Jude went back to work, this time not being nearly as quiet as he’d been before.

Disrupting Ellina now seemed like a good idea.

“I’m so sorry,” Ellina said, wincing as another pan clattered loudly from the kitchen.

“He’s a little overbearing.”

Peter made a face, widening his eyes in an expression of intrigue. “Who is he? All the details, please.”

Ellina shook her head, feeling some of her irritation fade. Leave it to Pete to enjoy being manhandled first thing in the morning.

“He’s…” She really didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to tell Pete that Jude was a bodyguard. That would prompt an endless string of questions, which would inevitably lead to subjects she couldn’t answer.

Pete had been her neighbor for nearly two years, but he didn’t have a clue that she was half demon. They were tight. He was her closest friend, but she wasn’t sure she could ever be tight enough with anyone to tell them about her hellish family.

Her thoughts turned to Jude, who in one day knew more about her life than Pete.

Then her thoughts strayed to the look on Jude’s face as he’d looked at her in the hallway.

His eyes had roamed down her body, and he’d looked positively…hungry.

Parts of her tingled just remembering that look, but she quickly thought of something else, before her body could react in ways that would certainly make her demon side a little hard to hide.

“Why are you here so early?” she asked, avoiding Pete’s last question.

“He’s what?” Pete prompted, not to be dissuaded from his question. How very Pete.

“He’s…”

Pete widened his eyes, waiting, an almost impatient look in his blue eyes.

“He’s just a friend.”

Peter collapsed back against the couch cushions, clearly not pleased with her answer.

“Well, you might think you’re friends,” he said, “but he definitely thinks you’re something else. A man doesn’t slam another man up against a wall like that unless he’s feeling all alpha about something.”

She laughed. Pete was right about that. “Oh, he’s pretty alpha. But not about me.

Well, not about me in that way.”

But she’s wasn’t sure about that. That look in his eyes earlier…

She shivered, then cleared her throat to compose herself.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on, Ell, there has to be more to this than just a friend.”

Ellina frowned and then laughed. “Ell again. What’s up with this little nickname you’ve suddenly given me?”

“Uh-uh,” he said, sitting up again, watching her intently. “I’m not letting you avoid this. Dirt, girl. Dirt.”

Ellina laughed. “There isn’t any dirt.”

“Well there haven’t been any men around here since I’ve known you.” He raised his eyebrows as if he wanted her to confirm that fact.

She nodded, laughing again, this time a little uncomfortably. “That would be true.”

“And now there’s one staying with you.” He lounged back against the overstuffed cushions of her sofa.

“Just for a while.”

“Really?” For a moment, Ellina thought she saw something like annoyance in his eyes. But why would Pete care?

“He’s a friend of Maksim’s,” she added.

“Why isn’t he staying at Maksim’s then?” he asked sharply, then Pete must have realized how curt he sounded, because he added with a little smile, “I still feel like there’s more to this story.”

“Not really.”

“Really? There nothing behind that reaction when I came in here?”

“Well—he knows about the breakins, so I think he just—overreacted.”

Pete nodded. “That also explains the fact that he’s wandering around in nothing but sweatpants?” He paused, listening. “And he’s apparently making you breakfast?”

As if on cue, another pan clanged.

He raised an eyebrow.

“You are relentless—as ever,” she said with a laugh. “Yes, he is staying here. But he’s staying in the guest room. And he just happens to like to cook. Nothing more to tell than that, I’m afraid. I don’t even know him that well, to be honest.”

Pete smiled, this one somehow easier than the previous smiles. “Well that’s too bad.

I’m sorry to be pressuring you like this. You know I just want to see you happy.”

“Ah, sweetie, how could I be unhappy when I have you?”

She leaned in to hug her dear friend, but before she could embrace him, Jude’s voice interrupted her, booming and clearly not pleased.

“Breakfast is nearly done.”

She pulled away from her friend to find Jude in the hall doorway, glowering.

“I’ve made coffee,” he said. “Why don’t you come help yourselves.”

Ellina glanced from Jude to Pete, feeling awkward. Why was Jude acting this way? It was ridiculous.

BOOK: What a Demon Wants
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