“Dalton.” His name left her lips on a ragged gasp as he slid his hand over her belly, delving into her shorts to cup her sex. He parted the folds of her moist and needy flesh, dipping into her core, exploring her with soft, deliberate strokes that sent her spiraling into oblivion. She’d gone too long without and this was exactly what she craved, but she wanted to hold on, to take him with her.
But Dalton was relentless, using his fingers to stroke her into madness. He dipped, caressed, demanded her response that she couldn’t hold back. She climaxed with a blinding cry that Dalton absorbed with a deep kiss, shattering her completely. He held her while she rocked against him. She was too drugged with passion to do anything but hold on to him and tremble against his lips.
Her orgasm only served to whet her appetite for more. But when he removed his hand, he pulled her to a sitting position and backed away, dragging his hand through his hair. She saw apology in his eyes, regret, all the things she didn’t want to see.
Shaking from the aftereffects, she slid her legs over the table. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I just … don’t think it’s a good idea to go further.”
“Why?”
“Because we should take this slow.”
The heat of embarrassment and anger suffused her face. She’d asked, and he’d answered. She’d wanted this tonight for so many reasons. To comfort him, yes, but also because she’d thought they were growing closer.
Obviously, she was wrong. He still thought of her as a demon, not a human. Not a woman. Oh, sure, he could get the hots for her, but he couldn’t see it through, because bottom line, she had demon blood. He could talk a good game about trust, but he really didn’t trust that she wouldn’t sprout fangs while in the middle of sex and try to kill him.
Could she blame him for that?
She jerked her T-shirt down to cover herself.
Dalton leaned against the counter, shirtless, his shorts riding dangerously low on his hips. The evidence of his desire was still outlined for her to see, to want. She was consumed with this inexplicable need to leap off the table and throw herself at him. Her body throbbed all over.
“I’m sorry, Isabelle. This is my fault. I got carried away.”
Un-freaking-believable. He couldn’t handle the demon side of her. He wanted a human lover, not a freak show. It was all too clear. She just wished he’d figured it all out before she’d become emotionally invested.
Way to go, Isabelle. One mistake after another.
“I don’t feel well. I’m going to bed.”
“Isabelle …”
“Save it, Dalton. You’ve said enough.” She hopped off the table and dragged the remnants of her dignity out of the room before she did something stupid. Like cry in front of him like some … girl.
She shut the door to her room and turned her back to the door, blinking back the hot splash of tears she couldn’t seem to will away.
She used to be a lot stronger, used to be the one in control of men and relationships. When did that all change? When had she gone weak in the knees over a man? How could she let him manipulate her feelings like this?
How could she have let her heart get involved?
Damn him.
Well, that went well. There were so many reasons to go after Isabelle. Dalton wanted to explain why he’d pulled away. All the reasons why he hadn’t wanted to stop. But really, what would be the point? He’d already hurt her enough. It was best to just let her go.
He should have never started in the first place. So much for his self-control, for his determination of logic over lust. One look at her outside, wet from the rain, one whiff of her sweet scent, and he’d gone after her like some kind of wild animal with one intent in mind. He’d wanted her. That’s all he’d thought about. Not the repercussions. Not all the reasons he shouldn’t. Just the one reason he should.
Because he wanted her. And he’d had her, coming apart under his hand, breathing in the scent of her desire, feeling her moist heat clenched around his fingers and knowing in seconds he could be inside her, joined with her.
And then he’d stopped. Which was a good thing.
Right?
Shit. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, popped the top off and took a long pull, letting the icy cold liquid slide down his throat. Maybe it would chill out the heat Isabelle had caused.
She hadn’t seemed demonic at all when he’d kissed and touched her. She’d told him she was fully human, had asked for his trust in her. She’d been with him, in the moment, clearheaded and all female. His balls were twisted into knots remembering how she responded to his touch, to his mouth. Though he knew he shouldn’t, he still wanted her with a fierceness that defied all reason. It wouldn’t take much for him to stalk into her bedroom, take her into his arms and show her with his mouth and body how much he really did need her.
Which was what really shocked him, his need for her. He’d never needed anyone before, but the thought of being without Isabelle left a hole inside him.
Maybe that’s what scared him. They weren’t lovers; she didn’t belong to him. She was here because he’d made it his mission to help her, to integrate the demonic side of her with the human side. He hadn’t brought her here to love her. But touching her, being with her, brought something magical out of him.
She also touched his dark side. Something about her made him … hungry.
He’d lost control with Isabelle once in Sicily, had done something he knew he had no business doing. Something that wasn’t in the Realm’s plans. She tapped into a part of him that made him defy what he was, what he had pledged to be.
If he had any chance at redemption, he couldn’t go there again. Which meant he had to be hands-off with Isabelle. He couldn’t trust who he became when he was with her.
Wind howled, lashing limbs against the windows. Lightning lit up the sky like midday, and thunder crashed all around.
Yeah, that fit his mood. Dark, brooding, and just plain pissed off.
He grabbed his jacket, put on his shoes, and headed toward the main house, ignoring Mother Nature’s warning blasts against him as he fought his way along the path. He entered the back of the house, pulled off his jacket, and went in search of Georgie. She was in the library, reading a book by candlelight. She looked up when he entered, seemingly unsurprised to see him.
“There’s tension in you. Something else.” She studied him, her lips pressed firmly together before turning down in a disapproving frown. “Passion. What did you do?”
He dragged his wet hair away from his face. “Nothing. I don’t know. Something, maybe.”
Georgie laid the book on the table and laid her hands in her lap. “Come sit down and tell me.”
He did, taking a seat in the chair across from hers. It was old, but still well cushioned, and he sank into it with a sigh. He’d like to stay here and hide, but he was no coward.
Then again, maybe he was.
“I feel something for Isabelle. But it’s like dynamite when we’re together. Tonight, we came close …”
“You sense danger when you’re passionate with her?”
Did he? He thought about it. “No. Before, yes, but tonight, no. She was human when we were …together.” This wasn’t the easiest thing to talk about.
“Then why the hesitation?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dalton, I can’t help you if you aren’t honest with me.” She leaned forward and held out her hands. He laid his palms over hers, feeling the surge of heat that he’d felt with her great-grandmother whenever she’d touched him.
Georgie closed her eyes and hummed, rocked slightly back and forth. Dalton knew not to disturb her when she went into this kind of trance.
“You’re not afraid of Isabelle,” she said, tenderness and concern reflected in her chocolate brown eyes. “You’re afraid of yourself.”
He let his hands slide from hers. What could he say to that? She was right. “I pushed her away tonight, Georgi
e.”
“Did you want to?”
“No.” Hell, no.
Georgie nodded. “By protecting yourself, you’re hurting Isabelle.”
“I know.” He had seen that in Isabelle’s face.
“Wanting to help her is noble. But you need to make some decisions. Either decide to help her and keep your distance, or decide you want to be more to her than just her savior. What you’re doing to her now is confusing her. You’re doing more harm than good, Dalton.”
And here he thought he couldn’t feel any worse. “You’re right.”
“But don’t be with her out of guilt,” Georgie said, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “A woman can always tell. She needs you, Dalton, in ways even you don’t yet understand. You just need to be clear in your motivations. Either help her get through this with all you have—and by that I mean body, heart, and soul—or leave her alone.”
Dalton already knew which way he had to go, because the thought of never touching Isabelle again caused him physical pain.
He was going to have to figure out how to deal with this—having her and still doing what he needed to do. He wasn’t sure how he could do both, but maybe an honest approach was a good way to start.
It would sure be a first for him.
Tase sat in the darkness, smiling.
Isabelle’s power was strong. He only had to keep pushing her, to bring the darkness within her to life again, and watch it grow.
Oh, she still fought him, but her resolve weakened. And Tase felt her. Every time the dark side of herself tried to emerge, he felt her. And the more the demon blood in her surged, the happier Tase became.
Because with his guidance, her human side had no chance to win.
It would only be a matter of time now. Soon the Isabelle he wanted would surface completely. Then he’d have his Queen of Darkness again, under his control and ready to do his bidding. The human Isabelle was weak. His queen would be powerful, a half-human puppet whose strings he could manipulate as he desired.
And her first task would be to bring about her lover’s downfall. Tase looked forward to the day when Isabelle destroyed Dalton.
The Master would be pleased by that coup, the bringing in of not only Isabelle, but Dalton, too.
Tase’s smile slid into a wide grin, and he let the flames surrounding him explode into a shower of orange and red fire, enveloping him like a blanket.
CHAPTER TEN
Mandy and Michael had brought the demon into one of the hidden Realm of Light locations—this one fully equipped with a lab—so they could run some tests on the creature.
The demon had a wallet on him, with all the usual things a normal human would have, including a driver’s license and credit cards.
The demon’s “name” was James McAdams. He lived in the suburbs with his wife, no kids. Drove a nice car and had a job as a real estate developer, income in the mid six figures. He had a ton of credit cards with high limits.
“So who is this guy, really?” Mandy stood outside the lab now, pacing in front of the two-way mirror while they hooked up the demon to more wires, more IV’s, stuck more tubes and needles and doodads in the damn thing.
“Obviously a demon,” Michael said.
“But the I.D. was legit. Do you think this guy used to be human?”
“He has a full background. His fingerprints match his military record. I’d say that the demon in there is the same body that used to be the human James McAdams.”
Unbelievable. There was so much they didn’t know.
“This is bullshit,” she said to Michael. Poking and prodding the comatose demon was doing no good. How were they going to find out anything if they kept it unconscious? “Wake it up and let me go in there fully armed. Give me five minutes alone with that thing and I’ll get some answers.”
Michael shook his head, braced his feet in a wide, military stance, and faced the two-way mirror head-on. “Not the way it works around here, Mandy and you know it. There’s protocol.”
She scrunched her nose and stopped pacing, mimicking Michael’s stance as she, too, turned toward the mirror. “My way is more fun,” she grumbled.
Michael’s lips curved.
“Careful, Mike. You might have just smiled.”
He kept his focus on the activity in the lab. “Tell anyone and I’ll have you vaporized. I have a reputation to protect. My team needs to believe I’m an asshole.”
She snorted. “No worries there. I’m sure they’ll have no trouble buying into that.”
“With your help.”
“Of course.”
She studied the creature. It looked so human. She hated that.
“So what are they doing to it?” she asked.
“Testing blood and tissues, running MRIs and CT scans. Basically a full external and internal workup. We’ve never had a live demon to examine before. We want anatomical and physiological makeup on it, to see how, or even if, it varies from human.”
“And if it’s not at all different?”
He shrugged. “Then we’ll go at it another way.”
“Interrogation?”
“Yes.”
Groovy. Maybe she could help. She really liked interrogation. “Won’t it be able to disappear once it’s conscious, though? They have the ability to vaporize.”
“I know. We’re working on that.”
Leave it to the Realm to figure out a way to keep the demon from evaporating in front of them. If anyone could do it, it was the group of scientists who worked for the Realm.
The door opened and one of the doctors came out, handed Michael a clipboard, and went back inside. Michael flipped through the pages.
“Christ.”
“What is it?”
“Preliminary results from some of the tests.”
“So what do we know so far?”
“That if the thing lying on the table in there were human, it would be dead.”
She arched a brow and peered over his shoulder. “Really?”
“Yeah. All these lab results are insane. All way too high. Sodium, potassium, BUN, creatinine, glucose levels—everything is off the charts. There’s no way it should have been up and walking. A human would have been in a coma, or dead.”
He flipped the page. “Body temperature way below normal, too. No one with a seventy-five-degree temperature should be alive. And the freezing agent I injected into it wouldn’t have lowered its temp that much, so it was already cold.”
Mandy made mental notes of all these things that would help the Realm identify a demon. It frightened her to think the Sons of Darkness had come up with a demon that could mix with the human population in daylight. But at least they knew the demons had some characteristics that would allow the hunters to identify them.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“Not yet. Let’s hope we can come up with more, because it’s not like we can run lab work on every human in the population, or take their temperatures. And if there was one wandering around, chances are there are more.”
“In multiple cities.”
“Probably. We need to wake this thing up and ask it some questions,” Michael said.
“You really think it’ll answer?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know until we try. Let’s just hope we can be persuasive enough that it’ll be forthcoming with answers. Nobody wants to die. Not even a demon.”
Mandy was looking forward to that part. “So how soon will you wake it up?”
“We don’t want to wait too long. They’ll finish testing today. After that, we’ll figure out a way to keep its body temperature low enough that it can’t dematerialize on us, but will still remain conscious.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.”
“Too bad we can’t use some kind of truth serum on it.”
Michael turned to her, a gleam of something absolutely wicked in his eyes. “Well, it is human in many ways, isn’t it?”
Isabelle did her best to avoid D
alton completely the next day. She made it a point to get up early, then left Dalton a note that she was going up to the main house to spend the day with Georgie. At least the storm had subsided and the power was back on now.
She had to get away from Dalton, couldn’t bear to be so close to him again. Not after what had happened between them last night, after what continued to happen between them. Getting closer, and him backing away at critical moments. She couldn’t continue to put herself through it.
Never again. She didn’t need any more reminders of what she was. She already knew.
Georgie tried to sit and talk with her, but Isabelle hadn’t gone there for probing into her psyche or emotions. She had gone to the main house to escape Dalton, and that included talking about him. Fortunately, Georgie didn’t push her, just put her to work in the basement stocking shelves of books. That at least kept her mind occupied, thoughts of Dalton pushed aside, if only for a while. She knew eventually she’d have to go back to the cabin and face him, but for now, she was busy and he wasn’t around.
“Is all this stuff for real?” she asked Georgie, filling shelves with books on the history of voodoo, then moving on to candles, cards, necklaces, charms, and incense.
“If you believe, it is. Magic can be very powerful.”
“What if you don’t believe?”
Georgie stood, smoothed out her generous cotton skirt, and faced Isabelle. “I would think, considering your background, you wouldn’t find much of anything unbelievable, Isabelle.”
She lifted a few zombie dolls from the box and cocked her head to the side.
Georgie offered an indulgent smile. “Everything has its purpose.”
“Zombies? Are there really zombies?”
“Are there really demons?”
“Touché, Georgie.” Isabelle placed the dolls on the shelf, realizing she wasn’t going to best Georgie in this game of Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.