Satin sheets. Down pillows. Chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne. All of it was too decadent for Shade, who preferred a lot less comfort and a lot more leather and chains, but the luxury suited Runa. Her soft skin deserved silky sheets. Her long, thick hair fell in shiny waves across the puffy pillow. And the way she licked strawberry juice from her lips set him on fire.
Somewhere in the back of Shade’s mind, he suspected this was a dream, but he didn’t want to fight it. Being with Runa felt too damned good.
He moved against her, buried deep inside her wet heat. It had been so long since they’d been together, so long since he’d let himself enjoy being with a female instead of just getting off in one.
It was dangerous, allowing sensation like this. If she hadn’t caught him with the two females last year, he’d have sent her packing, not because she’d grown clingy as he kept telling himself, but because he had been growing clingy. If not for the curse, Maluncoeur, he might have been tempted to hang on, see where their relationship might go, even if bonding with a human was out of the question. Even if, with her inexperience and shyness, she wasn’t his type.
Something about her had drawn him, had him thinking about her long after he’d left her at her coffee shop, had him hunting down her phone number and calling for a date two nights later.
“I’ve missed you, Shade.” Runa’s voice was sweet nectar, bubbling in his veins like the sparkling wine he’d sipped from the small of her back a few minutes earlier, when she’d lain on her belly, spread out before him like a feast. “Take me inside you.”
His head snapped up. Her eyes, glittering with lust and love and everything in between, gazed into his and he knew she meant what she’d said. She wanted to bond with him. To become his mate and help him through the s’genesis so he wouldn’t go through it alone, so he wouldn’t have his life turned upside down.
The right side of his face throbbed, the dermal markings trying to punch their way to the surface and declare that he’d gone through The Change. He was weeks away, days or hours, even, from becoming a shapeshifting demon who forgot his old life and spent his days in the mindless pursuit of females to impregnate.
Bonding with a mate would stop the insanity—literally. Posts’genesis males often went insane, Roag being an example of that. Bonded posts’genesis males kept their sanity, became fertile, and could shapeshift, but the only females they could sleep with were their own mates.
The fact that they would be limited for life to one female was the reason many Sems didn’t bond, especially after s’genesis—who wanted to spend six hundred years with the same mate? Worse, there was only one way out—the death of one of the partners. And since demons, in general, held a serious disregard for life, finding a mate you could trust not to kill you in your sleep two hundred years into a bond was next to impossible.
Still, Shade would be willing to take the chance … if not for the curse. He couldn’t risk falling in love with the female he bonded himself to—and he knew he would fall, and fall hard. The desire for a loving family had been bred into him on his mother’s side, and every day he ached for what he couldn’t have.
For now, though, he had Runa.
Her legs locked tight around him. She arched up, taking him to the root, moaning robustly. He’d forgotten how tuned she was to him in bed, always responding to his every desire with enthusiasm. Her curiosity had been limitless, and he’d enjoyed introducing her to various positions, toys, and acts.
Reaching low, she dug her nails into one butt cheek, forcing him into a rhythm of her choosing. “Harder,” she growled. “Until I scream, demon.”
Surprise rang through him; she’d never shown any kind of aggression during sex, had catered to his desires and needs, had been pliable and perfect.
This was even better.
He pounded into her, giving her what she wanted, making her whimper as they climbed higher. The scent of her arousal rose up, intoxicating him with lust. Making him so drunk that the room began to spin, and when she commanded him to “Drink me” and dragged a long nail across her clavicle and drew blood, he did, without thinking.
She threaded her left fingers through his right ones, stretched their arms high above her head. Pain shot through him, lovely, delicious pain that radiated from his shoulder where she’d sunk her teeth. The dermoire that extended from his fingers to his neck began to glow with liquid heat, seeming to melt their limbs together.
Hell’s rings, they were bonding. Oh, shit, it was happening and he couldn’t stop it, not when her blood flowed like wine down his throat and she drew his blood with strong, erotic pulls. Not when his orgasm was barreling down on him like a freight train and she was screaming and …
He roared in his release as her climax milked him, her slick inner walls contracting around him and holding him prisoner.
Prisoner …
Blinded by the orgasm that went on and on, he couldn’t see straight, but something wasn’t right. The smells in the room were off, no longer chocolate and arousal, but mold and sewage. His knees weren’t sliding on satin. They were scraping on hard stone.
“Runa,” he whispered, and she moaned, rousing herself with the same dreamy fogginess that affected him.
“What happened?” She blinked up at him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the dermoire on his arm stop glowing. He felt her inside him, in his soul, his heart. They were bonded.
And with growing horror he realized where they were.
“You bastard.” Rage nearly boiled Runa’s blood as she glared up at Shade. “What did you do to me?” She shoved hard at his bare shoulders. “Get off me!”
To his credit, he seemed as bewildered as she was. He scrambled off her, his movements jerky and awkward. But then, she wasn’t exactly moving with grace and finesse, either. Her limbs felt heavy, as though her veins ran thick with lead instead of blood.
“Shit,” he breathed, kneeling beside her. “What happened?”
“You don’t know?”
“I know we just bonded. But I have no idea how we got to that point.”
Bonded? She winced at a twinge of pain in her head. She must have been drugged. Her mind worked furiously. Nebulous images swirled through her head. The Keepers had brought them food and water. They’d eaten, and after that … her mind was a black hole. She vaguely remembered hearing Roag’s voice, but then she was in a hotel room with Shade, and they were making love …
Bonding. The biting, the blood … some sort of mating ritual?
A tingling shock of arousal washed over her, purged her of coherent thought. Oh, she remembered this, remembered how sex with Shade left her enjoying orgasms for long afterward. She bit back a moan, ashamed that under the circumstances, she could possibly find another release.
As it swept over her, Shade drew her into his strong arms. “I love this part,” he murmured into her ear. “After I’ve taken you, and you come apart while I watch.”
She arched against him, clinging to his broad shoulders, clinging to the exquisite ripples of pleasure she didn’t want to end. His hard slabs of muscle buffered her body’s spasms. Dimly, she realized his thigh had spread hers and she was rocking against him. He held her tight, driving the hard length of his erection into her belly.
His lips brushed the rim of her ear as he talked her through the orgasms that came one after another. His words were graphic, hot, a verbal aphrodisiac that kept her shuddering in his embrace.
When it was over and her head had cleared, she shoved him away again, though with less force than before. “This is insane,” she said, her voice as hoarse as she’d ever heard it.
“So is Roag.” Shade shoved his hand through his hair, watching her as though gauging her ability to handle everything that had happened.
“I remember hearing Roag’s voice. They must have drugged us. But why?” She glanced around the tiny cell, only now realizing that they were no longer chained to the walls. Hope sang through her. She welcomed the feeling until a dark hunger made her realize that it wasn’t hope she was experiencing.
It was the pull of the full moon. The time was near.
“Why, I don’t know. But Roag has the power to make us think things that aren’t real. It’s the same gift Wraith has. He got into both our heads and made us want to bond.”
“And what, exactly, is bonding?”
“It’s what Seminus demons do if they want to either avoid or reverse the worst effects of s’genesis. We still go through The Change, but if we have taken a lifemate, we don’t sink into a life of violence, and we don’t have the urge to impregnate every female on the planet.” He leaned forward, his eyes dropping to her exposed breasts, which tightened under his hot gaze. “We only have the urge to impregnate our mate.”
She swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself. “Did you …”
“I’m not fertile yet.” He frowned. “Do I have a ring around my throat?”
“Yes.” It was an extension of the dermoire running up his arm … a knotted collar around his neck. She reached out to touch it, but he shied away.
“Don’t.” His voice was low and rough. “I’m having a hard time controlling myself. The things I want to do to you …”
Her heart thundered in her chest. Jumped to her throat so she could barely find her voice. “Is … is that normal?”
“I’ve heard that taking a mate before The Change brings it on faster.” His gaze darkened until the whites of his eyes had nearly been consumed by the black. “Because of the permanent supply of sex.”
The mere word, the possessive intensity in his expression, nearly had her moaning. “Think again, buddy. I’m not going to be your little sex slave.” She hoped that sounded more convincing to him than it did to her.
Shade put more distance between them, but the way his body was coiled, the way he watched her, reminded her of a panther ready to pounce. “That’s not how it works.” He fingered his throat. “Are there one or two rings?”
“One.”
“There will be two once the s’genesis is complete. The first one means I’m bonded. The second means I’m fertile. You’ll develop arm markings that match mine in a few minutes. Since the lycanthropy altered your DNA, you’re no longer fully human, so the bonding shouldn’t kill you.”
Shouldn’t?
This was really, really not good. She shoved to her feet and started to pace, the wolf blood itching just beneath the surface of her skin. “Okay, how do we unbond?”
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “We don’t.”
“What do you mean, we don’t? There has to be a way. A spell, a ritual—”
“There isn’t.” He rubbed his jaw again. “Fuck.”
It occurred to her that she should be more upset, but since they were probably both going to die sometime in the next day or so, mating for life didn’t seem like a big deal.
“For fun, let’s say we survive the Ghouls. What does being bonded mean for me? For us?”
He stood, paced for a moment, his toned body a thing of beauty as he walked. “Forced fidelity, for one thing. Neither one of us can willingly have sex with another. You’ll feel pain if you try. I won’t be able to get it up. It means we will sense each other’s arousal no matter how far apart we are. We’ll feel each other’s emotions. I can feel your anger right now.”
“I’ll just bet you can.” She glared at him. “So this all sounds pretty shitty. Why would anyone do this? I mean, I get that it might make things easier on you, but why would women do this?”
“Not women. Our blood is toxic to humans, so we can’t bond with them.”
“Fine. Females, then. Why would demon females bond with you?”
“Demons do fall in love, you know,” he snapped. “Females do want to keep the male they love from going insane and fucking everything that moves.” He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, he was calmer. “Some species get longer lifespans out of the deal. Prey species get a protector in a mate. There are lots of reasons a female might bond with a Seminus demon.”
“What about werewolves?”
“Out-of-this-world orgasms.”
She stared. “That’s it? Great sex? I’m forced to deal with you for the rest of my life and all I get out of it is great sex?”
“Better than great sex,” he said, sounding a little put out.
She reached for her clothing, scattered around her. “This is just great.” And she wasn’t talking about her panties, which had been shredded.
“I’m not real happy either, princess.”
She resisted the urge to snap at him. This wasn’t his fault. “What’s up with your brother? Why is he so …”
“Psycho?”
“That works.”
“He’s always been off kilter. He was born to Neethul slavemasters, an extremely cruel race. When he went through his s’genesis, he lost what few marbles he had.”
She tugged on her jeans, and at some point she must have growled, because he shot her a curious glance.
“You’re close, aren’t you?”
In answer, her muscles tightened painfully, as though they were being separated from the bones. “The full moon is almost here.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. As soon as I change, they’re going to skin me.”
Shaking his head slowly, Shade fingered his earring. “I don’t think so. Roag bonded us for a reason.”
“So he won’t kill me?”
He met her gaze. “Oh, he’ll kill you,” he said quietly. “But not yet. I think he has something far worse planned.”
Doctor Gemella Endri stood in the physicians’ lounge at Underworld General, watching Wraith pace while Eidolon and Kynan tried to calm him.
The futility of their efforts was heartbreaking. Wraith had been coming apart at the seams for hours now. Even his clothes hadn’t been able to stand up to the stress. His T-shirt had been stretched irreparably at the neck from his hands’ constantly tugging at it as though it had been strangling him. She figured that as much as he’d been pacing, his combat boots’ soles should be completely worn down.
Shoving both hands through his hair, he stopped walking and threw his back against the dark gray wall covered with incantations written in blood—protective spells that prevented violence. Mostly. He and his brothers were exempt from the violence restriction.
“I still can’t locate him. Dammit, I can’t find him!”
Eidolon looked up from where he sat across from Gem, his dark eyes haunted. The ambulance Shade and Skulk had been driving had been found, but there had been no sign of the demons, and everyone in the hospital was operating in worry mode. “Can you feel him at all?”
Wraith stared at the ceiling, which was as dark as the walls. “I get blips of him when he’s in pain, but they don’t last. Someone must have put a masking spell on him or something.”
“It’s the Ghouls, isn’t it?” Kynan voiced what they had all been thinking, and Gem drew an anxious breath.
“No.” Wraith shot across the room and slammed Kynan against the wall, which began to pulse as the threat of violence rose. He shoved his forearm into Ky’s throat, putting pressure on the jagged scars running from Ky’s jaw to his clavicle. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”
Kynan didn’t react, other than to watch Wraith with calm eyes. What he’d said was right on target, and they all knew it. Just this morning an Oni demon had been brought in, her tongue and three eyes harvested by Ghouls, which only intensified their worry.
“Let him go, Wraith,” Eidolon said in a soft, soothing voice. “Concentrate on Shade.”
Several agonizing heartbeats ticked by before Wraith finally shoved away from Kynan. “I gotta get out of here.”
Eidolon stood, adjusting his stethoscope to keep it from sliding off his neck. “Wraith …” The warning in his voice was as sharp as a scalpel blade.
“Spare me the just-say-no lecture, bro.” Wraith stalked out of the lounge, and with a curse, Eidolon followed, leaving Gem alone with Kynan.
“That is one messed-up demon,” Ky muttered, rubbing his throat as he snagged a Red Bull from the staff fridge. Gem had to pry her gaze away from the way his scrubs hugged his fine ass as he bent over.
“I think we’re all a little messed up,” she said tiredly.
“You mean everyone? Or just demons?” Ky popped the top while watching her with those denim-colored eyes that always made her breath come a little faster. “Like you.”
The blunt reminder put her in her place. He was a human who used to kill demons for a living, who now had every reason to hate them. Yet he worked with them, socialized with them, and at UG, he healed them. Still, he couldn’t see beyond what she was. Couldn’t see how badly she wanted him.
Granted, the wounds he’d suffered when his wife betrayed him were still raw, but Gem wanted desperately to heal him, if only for her own selfish reasons.
She loved Kynan Morgan, and had for years.
Didn’t matter that he was no longer the man she’d fallen in love with. The demon half of her rejoiced at the loss of his purity, his goodness. The human half wept, longed to see him whole again.
“Gem?” Kynan’s hand came down on her shoulder, startling her out of her pathetic musings but soothing her with his heat.
God, he was hot. Dark, spiky hair, blue eyes, deeply tanned skin. His athletic build was made for marathons both in and out of bed.
“Ah, Gem?”
She blinked. “Sorry. I’m distracted.”
“We’re all worried about Shade and Skulk.”
“Are you? Truly?” Her question came out more sharply than she’d intended, and she carefully leveled her voice with the next one. “Do you honestly worry about them?”
“You think I don’t care because they’re demons?”
“It occurred to me.”
“I’ve known humans who were more evil than either of them.”
The answer gave her hope, a light, fluttery feeling in her belly. “Could you … could you ever, um, be with a demon?” The question was out of her mouth before she could take it back.
Vocal cord damage sustained during his Army days had left him with a rough, gravelly voice, but now it went even lower and rougher. “What are we talking about? Sex?”
Her mouth went dry, and a shiver of both desire and anxiety raced through her. “I–I don’t know. I just … could you see yourself with one?”
One long finger trailed along her jaw, the most intimate contact they’d ever had. “Never.”
With that, he stalked out of the room.
Kynan ground to a halt just outside the lounge door, his heart pounding, his breath searing his throat. The shadowy hospital halls closed in on him, and he had to brace himself against the wall as a dizzying sense of vertigo bore down on him.
What the hell had just happened back there? In all the years he’d known Gem, he’d never caught more than a friend-vibe from her, but suddenly, she’d seemed … wanting.
Wanting him? Why? He was damaged goods and a Class-A asshole. Not to mention the fact that for over eleven months, his libido had been as dead as his wife.
But suddenly, as he stood there with Gem, his body had resuscitated as if it had been jacked up by a defibrillator.
She’s a demon.
“Half demon,” he muttered to himself.
But the demon half is as bad as it gets.
Jesus Christ. He stood there warring with himself in the hallway, his scrub bottoms revealing his current aroused state, and why? He’d just made clear that he could never become involved with a demon, not even for something as shallow as sex, because sex had never been shallow for him.
Man, the incubus brothers would laugh their asses off if they knew that about him. How he’d always considered sex to be something special, to be shared between two people who cared for each other. But it wasn’t as if he was judgmental of those who didn’t feel the same way. He’d grown up the son of a call girl who had gotten out of the business when his wealthy, married father paid her a large sum to keep quiet. He’d seen the best and worst of people growing up and then again in the Army during battle. People did weird shit when they were stressed or hurt or just because of their upbringing.
So no, he didn’t judge, and he didn’t jump to conclusions.
Maybe he’d simply misinterpreted Gem’s question. Maybe she hadn’t been talking about sex—or, at least, sex with her.
Maybe he was a fucking idiot, because he knew damned good and well what the conversation had been about, and his dick knew, too.
Not that it mattered, because nothing could happen between them, no matter how sexy she looked in her leather miniskirts and thigh-high stockings—which he just realized at this very moment were unbelievably hot.
Fuck. He was in a shitload of trouble, and he had no idea how to dig himself out.