White Hot Kiss

  you’ve ever said.”

  She followed me to our seats at the back of the classroom. “You’re like this little doll with those big gray eyes and pouty lips.”

  I shot her a scathing glare as I dropped into my seat. Most days I looked like a creepy anime character. “Are you coming on to me or something?”

  Stacey grinned evilly. “I’d go gay for you.”

  Digging out Sam’s notes, I snorted. “I wouldn’t go gay for you. Eva Hasher? Maybe.”

  She gasped, clutching the front of her shirt. “That stung. Anyway, I texted you at least a dozen times last night and you didn’t respond once.”

  “Sorry. I lost my phone.” I flipped a page, wondering what language Sam had scribbled this crap in. “Zayne is supposed to get me a new one today. I’m hoping it’s a touch screen like yours.”

  This time Stacey sighed. “God, can Abbot adopt me, too? Seriously. I want a superhot adopted brother. Instead I have a whiny, craps-himself brother. I so want a Zayne.”

  I tried to ignore the red-hot jolt of possessiveness darting through my veins. “Zayne’s not my brother.”

  “Thank God for that. Otherwise you’d be plagued with incestuous feelings all the time and that’s just gross.”

  “I don’t think of Zayne that way!”

  She laughed. “What man-parts-loving female in this world doesn’t think of Zayne that way? I can barely keep myself breathing when I see him. All the guys in school have squishy waists. I can tell Zayne doesn’t. He’s the awesome sauce with extra sauce.”

  That he was, and he so didn’t have a squishy waist, but I tuned Stacey out at that point. I really did need to cram for this test and I also didn’t want my fantasies involving Zayne to occupy my mind right now. Especially after I’d woken up this morning, carefully tucked under the covers. The bed had smelled like him: sandalwood and crisp linen.

  “Oh, sweet baby Jesus in a manger,” Stacey murmured.

  I clenched my jaw, cupping my hands over my ears.

  She jabbed me in the side with her elbow. At this rate I’d be covered in bruises before lunchtime. “Our bio class just got a billion times more interesting. And hotter, lots and lots hotter. Holy mother, I want to have his babies. Not now of course, but definitely later. But I’d like to start practicing soon.”

  The cell wall is a thick and rigid layer covering the plasma something, something plant cells...

  Stacey stiffened all of a sudden. “Oh, my God, he’s coming—”

  Composed of fat and sugar—

  Something slender and shiny fell from who knew where, landing in the middle of Sam’s notes. Blinking tightly, it took me a couple of seconds to recognize the faded and half-peeled Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sticker covering the back of the silver cell phone.

  My heart slammed against my ribs. Gripping the edges of the notebook, I slowly lifted my gaze. Unnaturally beautiful golden eyes met mine.

  “You forgot this last night.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  He couldn’t be here.

  But he was, and I couldn’t look away. Suddenly I wished I could sketch, because my fingers itched to draw the lines of his face, to try to capture the exact slant of the bottom lip that was fuller than the top. Not exactly a helpful line of thinking.

  The demon smiled. “You ran off so fast I didn’t get a chance to give it to you.”

  My heart stopped beating. This wasn’t happening. An Upper Level demon didn’t return missing cell phones and he sure as Hell didn’t go to school. I had to be hallucinating.

  “You little secret-keeping elf,” Stacey whispered in my ear. “This is why you didn’t show up for our study group last night?”

  His gaze had a hypnotic, paralyzing effect. Or I was just that stupid. I could feel Stacey practically coming out of her skin beside me.

  He leaned down, placing his palms on my desk, smelling of something sweet and musky. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

  Stacey sounded like she’d choked.

  The door to our classroom swung open and Mrs. Cleo shuffled in, her plump arms filled with papers. “All right, everyone in their seats.”

  Still smiling, the demon straightened and turned. He sat down in the desk directly in front of us. Not even a second passed before he rocked the chair back on two legs, hovering there and completely at ease.

  “What the frick, Layla?” Stacey gripped my arm. “Where did you pick him up last night, somewhere between the Big Mac and fries? And why didn’t I get an order of him?”

  Stacey’s fingers continued to dig into my arm, but I was utterly dumbstruck.

  Mrs. Cleo cradled the exams to her chest like they were a newborn infant. “It’s quiet time. Everyone face the front of— Oh, we have a new student.” She picked up a small pink sheet, frowning as she looked up at demon boy. “Well, the exam won’t count toward your grade, but it should give me an idea of where you’re at.”

  “Layla,” Stacey whispered. “The look on your face is starting to freak me out. Are you okay?”

  Mrs. Cleo dropped the exams on our desks, snapping her fingers. “No talking. Test time, Ms. Shaw and Ms. Boyd.”

  The questions on the paper blurred. I couldn’t do this—sit here and take an exam with a freaking demon sitting in front of me.

  “I don’t feel good,” I whispered to Stacey.

  “I can tell.”

  Without another word, I gathered up my stuff. My legs shook as I stood and hurried to the front of the class. Mrs. Cleo glanced up as I flew past her, my cell slippery in my hand.

  “Ms. Shaw, where do you think you’re going?” she called out, rising to her feet. “You can’t just leave class in the middle of an exam! Ms. Shaw—”

  The door slammed shut, silencing whatever else she said. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I had to call Zayne—maybe even Abbot. The gray lockers lining the halls blurred. I pushed open the door to the girls’ bathroom, and the lingering scent of cigarettes and disinfectant washed over me. The graffiti on the walls looked completely unintelligible.

  Flipping open the phone, I caught a glimpse of my eyes in the mirror. They were bigger than normal, taking up my whole face. My stomach tumbled as I thumbed through my contacts.

  The door to the bathroom creaked open.

  I swung around, but no one stood there. Slowly, the door inched closed with a soft clink. A shiver danced over my skin. My finger trembled as I pressed down on Zayne’s name. There was a chance he’d still be awake and not completely encased in stone at the moment. A small, unlikely—

  Demon boy was suddenly standing in front of me. He folded his hand over mine, snapping the phone shut. A startled shriek escaped me.

  His lips pursed. “Now who are you calling?”

  My pulse raced at breakneck speed. “How...how did you do that?”

  “Do what? Leave class so easily?” He leaned down as if he was about to share a secret. “I can be very persuasive. It’s a gift of mine.”

  I knew Upper Level demons held powers of persuasion. Some could just whisper two or three words to a person, and whatever the demon wanted, the human would do. But that was also against the rules—free will and all.

  “I don’t care about the class thing. You were freaking invisible!”

  “I know. Pretty cool, huh?” He pried the cell out of my hands. Didn’t take much since my fingers felt boneless. He looked around the bathroom, dark brows raised. “It’s only one of many talents.” Casting a look over his shoulder at me, he winked. “And I do have many talents.”

  I inched around the sink, toward the door. “And I really don’t care about your many talents.”

  “Stay still.” He kicked open a stall with the toe of his black boot as he kept an eye on me. “We need to chat, you and I. And that door isn’t opening for anyone but me.”

  “Wait! What are you doing? Don’t—”

  My cell flew through the air, landing in the toilet. He faced me, shrugging. “Sorry. I was hoping the phon
e could be a white flag of friendship, but I can’t have you calling those creatures of yours.”

  “That’s my cell phone, you son of a—”

  “It’s not your cell phone anymore.” He grinned playfully. “Now it belongs to the sewer department.”

  I backed away from him, successfully cornering myself between the sink and the gray cement wall, where a heart had been carved under a small window. “Don’t come near me.”

  “Or what? Remember how far you got fighting the Seeker last night? You won’t get even that far with me.”

  I opened my mouth to—I don’t know—scream, but he shot forward, clamping his hand over my lips. Running on instinct, I slammed my balled fists into his stomach. He grabbed my wrist with his free hand and pressed against me, trapping my other arm between my softer stomach and his much, much harder one. I tried to wriggle away, but he held me in place.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” His breath stirred the hair around my temple. “I just want to talk.”

  I bit his hand.

  He let out a low hiss, wrapping his hand around my throat. He pressed his fingers in, forcing my head back. “Biting can be a lot of fun, but only when it’s appropriate. And that wasn’t appropriate.”

  I wrestled an arm free and gripped his. “I’m going to do worse to you than biting if you don’t let go of me.”

  The demon blinked and then laughed. “I might be interested in seeing what more you can do. Pleasure. Pain. Kind of the same thing, but we don’t have time for that right now.”

  I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart. My gaze darted to the door. The reality of the situation sank in. I’d escaped the Seeker demon and this one last night, only to die in the bathroom of my high school. Life was freaking cruel.

  There was no place for me to go. Any movement I made brought us closer together and we were already way too close. The word leaked out of my mouth. “Please...”

  “Okay. Okay.” To my surprise, his voice dropped, became soothing as his grip relaxed. “I scared you. Maybe I should have picked a better way of showing up, but the look on your face was priceless. If you knew my name, would that make you feel better?”

  “Not really.”

  He smirked. “You can call me Roth.”

  Nope. Knowing his name didn’t make me feel better.

  “And I’ll call you Layla.” His head shifted, sending several locks of black hair forward. “I know what you can do. So let’s cut the crap, Layla. You know what I am and I know what you are.”

  “You have the wrong person.” I dug my nails into his arm. It had to hurt, but it didn’t even faze him.

  Roth looked up to the ceiling, sighing. “You’re half-demon, Layla. You can see souls. That’s why you were in that alley last night.”

  I opened my mouth to lie again, but what was the point? Taking a deep breath, I struggled to keep my voice even. “What do you want?”

  He tipped his head to the side. “Right this moment? I want to understand how you’ve let the Wardens brainwash you into hunting your own kind. How you can work for them.”

  “They haven’t brainwashed me!” I pushed against his stomach. He didn’t budge. And wow, his stomach was so not squishy, either. It was ridiculously hard and trim. And I was sort of feeling him up. I jerked my hands back. “I’m nothing like you. I am a Warden—”

  “You are half Warden and half demon. What you’re doing is—is sacrilegious,” he announced with a look of disgust.

  I scoffed. “Coming from you, a demon? That’s almost funny.”

  “And what do you think you are? Just because you choose to ignore your demon blood doesn’t change its existence.” He leaned in so close his nose brushed mine as his hand cupped my chin, forcing me to maintain eye contact. “Don’t you ever wonder why the Wardens didn’t kill you? You’re part demon. So why did they keep you? Perhaps it’s because your ability to see souls is valuable to them? Or something else?”

  My eyes narrowed as anger replaced the fear. “They don’t use me. They’re my family.”

  “Family?” It was his turn to scoff. “You obviously can’t shift or you would’ve done so last night.”

  Heat burned my face. Jeez, even a demon knew I was defective.

  “Whatever Warden blood you have in you isn’t as strong as your demon side. We are your family—your kind.”

  Hearing that was putting voice to my own personal version of Hell. I knocked his hand away. “No.”

  “Really? I think you’re lying. Seeing souls isn’t the only thing you can do, is it? The last one who could?” he whispered, catching my chin again with the tips of his slender fingers. “She could do much more than that. Let’s just say she’d get a very unique hankering.”

  I started to shake. “Who are you talking about?”

  Roth smiled like the cat that ate an entire roomful of canaries and had moved on to the parrots. “I know what you wanted before you went into that alley.”

  The floor seemed to roll under my feet. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You don’t? I was following you.”

  “Oh, so you’re a demon and a stalker?” I swallowed hard. “Because that’s not creepy or anything.”

  He laughed softly. “Deflection doesn’t work on demons.”

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to try biting again.”

  Something flared in his golden eyes, brightening them. “You wanna try?” He leaned in again, his lips brushing the curve of my cheek. “Let me suggest more appropriate places. I have this piercing—”

  “Stop!” I jerked my head to the side. “Now I can add pervert to stalker and demon.”

  “I have no objection to any of those titles.” One side of his mouth curved up as he pulled back a little. “You wanted that man’s soul—the one you saw on the street? I’d be willing to bet a whole circle in Hell it’s all you ever want—ever think about sometimes.”

  I did need it. Sometimes I shook just thinking about how a soul would feel slipping down my throat, and talking about it made it worse. Even now, when there were no souls near me, I could feel the pull—the need to cave to the urge. Like a junkie after a fix. My muscles cramped in warning. I pushed against his chest. “No. I don’t want that.”

  “The one before you never denied what she was.” His voice then took on that soft, teasing quality again. “Do you know anything about her—about your heritage, Layla?” he said, and then his arm slipped around my waist, fitting my body against his. “Do you know anything about what you are?”

  “Do you know anything about personal space?” I snapped.

  “No.” He smirked, and then his eyes seemed to turn luminous. “But I do know that you really don’t mind me in your personal space.”

  “Keep trying to convince yourself of that.” I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to meet his stare. “Being this close to you makes me want to shave off layers of my skin.”

  Roth laughed softly. His head tipped down and suddenly our lips were inches apart. If he had a soul, he’d be entering dangerous territory. “I don’t need to do any convincing. I’m a demon.”

  “Duh,” I murmured, my gaze now fixed on his mouth.

  “Then you know that demons can smell human emotions.”

  They could. I’d missed out on that ability, though. I could smell burnt food a mile away, as helpful as that was.

  The corners of his lips tipped higher. “Fear has a sharp, bitter scent. I can smell that on you. Anger is like a chili pepper—it’s hot and it burns. And I can smell that, too.” Roth paused, and somehow, he was even closer. So close that when he spoke next, his lips brushed the corner of mine. “Ah, yes...and then there’s attraction. Sweet, tangy and heavy—it’s my favorite of them all. And guess what?”

  I strained back against the wall. “You do not smell that on me, buddy.”

  He reclaimed the distance with little effort. “That’s the funny thing about denial. It makes for a really bad weapon. You can say you’re not attra
cted to me all you want and maybe you don’t even know it yet, but I know differently.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You need to get your demon nose looked at, then, because it’s seriously broken.”

  Roth leaned back, tapping a long finger on the tip of my nose. “This has never lied before.” But he did step away. Though the smug grin remained on his face like his lips had been made for it, his