Wicked Edge

  “Female demons are notoriously sweet as well as deadly.” Ivan refilled both glasses. “That one more than most. On both counts.”

  Vadim stretched his long legs out and crossed his boots, appearing relaxed yet always on the ready to protect and defend. “And intelligent, considering she’s eluded you for three decades.” Pure fact and no derision echoed in his hoarse tone.

  “Three decades? That woman has eluded me for over a century.” Ivan inhaled the scent of the expensive liquor, his blood thrumming at being this close to her. Finally.

  “Yet you’re willing to take her back. To make her a partner in your life.”

  Of course he was. “She’s stunning, brilliant, and dangerous. Most important, she’s a purebred demon.” Ivan drew out his wallet to remove a photograph. It had been taken at the turn of the current century, in black and white, and had faded almost to white. Yet her outline, the beautiful blond hair and sparkling black eyes, remained in place. But maybe the paper had faded to the point that only he could see her. He frowned and returned the picture to its rightful place before sliding a manila folder across the desk.

  Vadim opened the top to reveal a recent picture of her in Seattle. She wore modern jeans that cupped her ass and too-dark glasses that masked her glorious eyes. “She is beautiful—and so rare. A real purebred female demon.”

  True. Although she had defects, she was still a purebred and beyond incredible. A mixture of kindness, femininity, and deadliness that formed the sexiest woman he’d ever met, and he’d lived nearly two hundred years. Nobody, not one woman, regardless of species, had ever come close to her.

  Vadim lifted his head. “You’re a lucky man.”

  Lucky? Hell, no. He’d been chasing her for so long, he had begun to despair that he’d ever catch her. Yet when the war had ended more than a year ago, he figured it was time for her to make a move. So when he’d been approached with an intriguing offer for his planekite resources by an outside partnership, he’d figured the timing was fortuitous as well as perhaps fated. He’d begun mining again, in Norway as well as Russia, to see if he could draw her out. Surely she felt safe enough, settled enough, to pick up the game again. And here she was on his island, just a few miles away, no doubt ready to meet him head-on. “Now here she’s come, trying to find me.”

  “Why not just call you up?” Vadim asked. “Why the game of hunting you down through the mines?”

  Ivan lifted a shoulder. “I guess it’s because she’s ready to kill me now.”

  The smell of cooked meat and freezing snow permeated the small school kitchen, banishing the scents of blood and burned flesh. Daire had caught, skinned, and cooked a rabbit over the fire, and now only a small plate of meat remained in the room.

  “Finish eating that bite, Cee Cee,” he rumbled, sitting next to her, the play of firelight dancing over the hard angles of his face and down his ripped torso.

  She took another bite, trying not to grimace, and working hard to keep the food on the good side of her mouth before swallowing.

  “Don’t like rabbit?” he asked.

  “Don’t eat meat usually,” she murmured, eating more to regain strength. Wild rabbit was much greasier than she would’ve thought.

  He chuckled, his broad chest moving nicely. “A vegetarian demon.”

  She leaned her head back against the wall. “I hope it was really a rabbit and not some shifter.”

  He snorted. “No such thing as a bunny shifter.”

  She sighed. Shifters were either feline, wolf, or multis. “A multi-shifter could become a rabbit, I think.”

  He shook his head. “When was the last time anybody saw a multi-shifter?”

  She shrugged. “Bears. All sorts of bears.”

  “Yep. Prevailing theory is that all multi-shifters evolved into some sort of bear.”

  Maybe. She didn’t really care. “How bad is my face?”

  “It’s killing me,” he deadpanned.

  Humor bubbled through her, but she kept a smile at bay to avoid more pain. “Hilarious.”

  “I’m the funny one,” he said, finishing his meal and wiping his hands down his destroyed pants before turning toward her. “Time to heal your face.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes, trying to send healing cells to her temple. A nice tingle began under her skin for the briefest of moments and then petered out. “Darn it.”

  “Okay.” Daire pivoted and drew her onto his lap, one arm cradling her shoulders and the other planted flat on her solar plexus.

  She gasped and tottered on his lap, warming instantly.

  He leaned against the wall and stretched out his legs, holding her securely. Warmth cascaded from his palm, and her stomach heated. “Draw strength from your center mass, right where my hand is heating you.”

  He was giving her his strength. More than just her abdomen warmed. Her nipples hardened beneath the heavy clothing. She coughed. “No, I—”

  “Now, Cee Cee. Worry about the rest later. Right now, let’s close the open wound on your face before you form scar tissue or lose any more blood.” His voice remained low and steady, but the clear tenor of command came through bright and clear. His hold was gentle but firm, and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Tears gathered in her eyes from his kindness, and one rolled down her cheek, burning her raw skin. “Daire—”

  “No tears,” he said, a snap in his tone. “Shut your eyes, focus on my hand, and heal your damn face.”

  She sniffed and shut her eyes. Drawing in air, she filled her lungs, focusing on the heat he was generating within her. She imagined the warmth flowing through her skin, up her arms, over her neck, to her aching skull. Tingles zapped, and she caught her breath at the power. It was always inside her, but Daire had harnessed and focused it for her.

  Healing hurt like hell.

  She kept her breathing even, gasping only with the sharpest of pains, allowing tears to fall. Every time she jerked, Daire’s arms tightened, and his body stiffened, as if he shared the pain. She kept all sound at bay, refusing to cry out and cause him any more distress.

  The process took nearly an hour, and by the time her face felt healed, they were both sweating. She blinked and then slowly turned her head back and forth. A residual pain thrummed through her head, but it was more of an afterthought.

  As the pain finally ebbed, her body focused elsewhere. On the hard thighs beneath her butt, and the thick chest holding her close. Hair covered his chest and led in a nice trail down to his pants. A manly chest. He stirred beneath her, and she realized some of the hardness wasn’t his thighs. Heat flared into her face, zinged down her torso, and bloomed in her feminine parts.

  He looked down. “All healed.” Satisfaction glittered in his eyes along with something else. Hunger.

  She nodded, her body crashing, even with desire fluttering through her. Her eyelids grew heavy. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she whispered.

  He tucked her face into his neck and caressed a broad hand down her hair. “I’m not nice.”

  The sheer comfort of the moment almost made her purr. “Yes. I drugged you and stole from you.” While the idea had seemed fine before she had gotten to know him, now it seemed shameful, although she’d had no choice. She’d done enough research to know his weaknesses, and she couldn’t afford to let him know the full truth. “You’re a good guy, Daire Dunne.”

  He chuckled, and his heated breath stirred her hair. “Don’t think for a second that I’m a good guy. I’m just a guy who gets things done, and sometimes it’s bloody, and sometimes it’s necessary. Healing your face was necessary.”

  She struggled to remain awake. “Thank you.”

  He held her tight, keeping her warm and protected, even as he rested back his head. “You’re welcome. Now get some sleep, finish healing, and tomorrow you’re gonna tell me everything.”

  She wanted to protest, because she truly couldn’t tell him everything. He was an enforcer, and if he had any clue who she was, he’d ship her h
ome. Or at least he’d try to, and she really didn’t want to fight with him now. For years she’d done what she had to do, and now it was her time. Her time to set right the wrongs of years ago, and nobody, not family, allies, or even deadly witch enforcers, was going to stop her. “I wish things were different,” she whispered.

  “They will be tomorrow.” His words had the sound of a vow.

  She snuggled closer, enjoying the feeling of male all around her. It had been so long. “Is there anything you have to do? A calling or a duty? Something nobody else can do?” she mumbled.

  “I’m an enforcer for the Council of the Coven Nine,” he said simply. “It’s not a job.”

  It was a calling. “You’re a protector, Dunne.”

  “Aye.”

  “I don’t need a protector.” She couldn’t afford one right now.

  “Well now, Cee Cee. Considering you have drugged me, stolen from me, and basically lied to me, if you did need a protector, it’d be from me.”

  Enough truth existed in the statement that it gave her pause. “It’s hard to be scared of a half-naked man holding you tight,” she murmured.

  His hold tightened imperceptibly. “Keep pushing, and you’ll be naked, too. Then we’ll see how brave you are.”

  Her eyelids opened and then closed again. “I don’t think so.”

  “Think whatever you want, baby, but at some point in the very near future, you’re going to be spread out in front of me, all of that glorious skin revealed, and I’m gonna take my time.”

  A shiver trembled through her that had nothing to do with the cold. The very idea of spending a night with Daire Dunne, enjoying his obvious attention to detail, heated her in places she hadn’t used in far too long. Yet his arrogance grated. “Here I thought we were becoming friends.”

  His bark of laughter moved his chest. “No. We may be enemies, and we may try to be allies, but I don’t fuck my friends until they whimper my name.”

  Whimper? Seriously. Whimper. She tried to catch hold of anger or even indignation, but her energy had been depleted. Her mind fuzzed, but she needed a decent comeback. Something that would put him in his place. Unfortunately, her brain refused to kick into gear. “I don’t fuck.”

  “Good thing I do.”

  She fell asleep as his amusement wandered around them.

  Colors, crazy and bright, filled her dreams, but she slept in contentment, protected after so long. The arms around her were temporary, but the sense of safety seduced her into a deep sleep.

  A few hours later, her eyelids jerked open. Wind whistled a pissed-off sound around the building, sliding through cracks in the far wall. The fire had died down to a soft crackle, and rolling thunder moved the earth. Her heart rate picked up, instinct kicking in. What had awakened her?

  Daire’s arms tightened, and he set her away. “There’s somebody outside.”

  Chapter 7

  Daire crouched low on the frozen kitchen floor and concentrated on the vibrations outside. The storm had died down a little bit but still competed with other energy sources. He could detect energy waves better than most witches, and he knew those signatures. Demons. At least two—maybe more. Either way, they waited outside in the swirling snow.

  “Stay here and be ready to run out the front. A half mile to the north is an old gas station. I hid the snowmobile behind it,” he said to Cee Cee. “They’re out back.” He hadn’t heard any sort of vehicle, so they’d walked. He pointed to the jacket she’d sat on. “Put that back on.”

  Cee Cee stood, her eyes wide, her hair wild around her face. “They’re here for me, not you.”

  Yeah. He got that.

  “You don’t even have a shirt, Daire.” She visibly steeled her shoulders and tried to move toward the back door.

  He planted a hand in the center of her chest, halting her easily. “I don’t need a shirt, and you’re not at full power yet. No way could you be after healing your body like that last night.” Plus, he was a fucking enforcer, and nobody was going to harm her on his watch. “They might not know you’re here, so just stay out of the way until I figure out who’s out there.”

  She glanced down at the hand at her chest, and a flush worked over her cheekbones. “I told you I don’t need a protector.”

  That was too bad. He leaned down and yanked up the jacket to shove over her shoulders. “Zip it up.”

  He waited until she’d complied, pure defiance on her face. She could wear any damn expression she wanted so long as she did what he said. He turned away and opened the door to find two demons to the left¸ and two to the right against a crumbling building of old apartments. “You all about to square-dance?” he called through the lightly falling snow.

  One man stepped forward. Curly blond hair, dark eyes, firm but young jaw. Ivan Bychkov looked like a handsome teenage heartthrob and hadn’t seemed to age in the years Daire had read security updates on the Consortia leader. “Bychkov,” Daire said.

  Ivan blinked and settled his stance. “Daire Dunne. What is a Nine enforcer doing on my island?”

  Daire lifted an eyebrow and kept his stance loose. The odds sucked, especially if the soldiers were as well trained as they appeared at first glance. “I own two of the mines on this island, as you know.”

  “Yet I own the actual island as well as two of the working mines.” Ivan smiled, youthful and charming. The soldier next to him was Vadim Deeks, one of the deadliest assassins around, and rumored to be completely loyal to Bychkov. They seemed to have a peaceful alliance with the main demon nation, which was currently being led by Zane Kyllwood, Logan’s older brother. If Daire killed Bychkov, there might be a problem with Kyllwood.

  Daire didn’t recognize the other two soldiers. “Well, this has been nice. Go away.”

  Bychkov sighed. “Where is she?”

  “She?” Daire asked. Instead of letting the exhausted woman sleep all over him, he should’ve demanded answers. Right now, he didn’t know shit, and that was not a good place to be.

  Vadim lifted a green gun and pointed it at Daire. A laser gun that turned into bullets as it hit flesh. Immortal flesh.

  Daire responded by allowing fire to dance down his arms and morph into plasma weapons in his hands.

  “Enough,” Cee Cee said from behind him, crossing to his side.

  Bychkov sucked in air. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Anger, female and strong, cascaded off her slim form. “I hadn’t planned to meet up so quickly.”

  “Yet here you are,” Bychkov drawled.

  She chuckled, the sound low and hoarse. “I’m here to check out Dunne’s mine. Not yours.”

  Her voice plus the double entendre rippled through Daire to his groin. When all four men facing her discreetly adjusted their stances, his temper moved from simmer to bring it the fuck on. A chuckle from a woman like her was a dangerous thing.

  Bychkov’s gaze raked Daire’s bare chest. “Still slumming it, I see.”

  Slumming it? Had the woman been with a witch before? Daire angled his body so he could cover her if anybody fired. “Would somebody tell me what is going on?” If he was going to fight, he wanted to know the reason, damn it.

  Bychkov sighed, his gaze remaining squarely on Cee Cee. “We have an agreement, and you’re going to honor it.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” Cee Cee spat, glancing up at the thick cloud cover.

  What was she looking for? “Agreement?” Daire muttered under his breath.

  Bychkov crossed his arms. “We were betrothed decades ago, and you ran away.” He shuffled his feet. “We could’ve worked things out.”

  She stretched her neck, her body one tense line. “I’m not property to be bargained with, Ivan. There’s no betrothal.” Her boot made no sound as she took a step forward. “You should’ve let go, and you will pay for what you’ve done. In ways you can’t even imagine with your tiny mind. I will see you dead.”

  He smiled. “There are four of us against two of you.”

  She chuckled aga
in. “Oh, I didn’t mean today. You get to live a while . . . first.” So much threat lived in the words that the hair on the back of Daire’s neck stood up.

  Bychkov frowned. “You’ve forgotten how well I know you. Everything about you.”

  Her chin snapped up. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Then you know you can’t beat me. Can’t come close, in fact.” He finally turned his focus to Daire. “You know she’s damaged, right?”

  Daire was more interested in the woman’s preoccupation with the clouds. “What are you doing?” he whispered, the sound slight.

  “Time. Can’t see sun,” she whispered back.

  The sun? Why did she need time? But Daire could go along for a moment. “Damaged? If you ask me, she’s pretty fucking perfect.”

  Cee Cee smiled at him.

  Bychkov growled, demon low. “Then she hasn’t told you, Enforcer.” A tickle, one of pain and death, vibrated through the air toward Daire’s frontal lobe.

  Daire smiled and threw up a mental shield. His expertise for the last three centuries had been in learning to shield against demon mind attacks, because the Coven Nine had always expected war with the demon nation. “That all you got?”

  Bychkov’s eyes turned beady. “No. But it’s more than she’s got.”

  Daire kept any reaction from showing. Was Cee Cee incapable of demon mind attacks? Was that even possible? “Regardless, you asked for the lady’s hand, she apparently said no, and it’s over. Tuck your tail between your legs and go home.”

  Bychkov shook his head, his face contorting. Emotion, deep and dark, charged the atmosphere. “We have a contract, struck by families, and she’s mine. The Coven Nine will not interfere in such matters, and you know it. You go home, Dunne.”

  True. The Coven Nine wouldn’t even think of interfering in another nation’s matters, including betrothals and all that crap. “I guess I’ll just have to interfere on my own, then.” He kept the mental shield in place, although even he wasn’t delusional enough to think he could protect his brain from the attacks of all four soldiers. They weren’t going anywhere, and the matter was about to escalate, so it was time for action. He molded the fire still burning across his hands into smaller projectiles.