Tall, Dark, and Deadly: Seven Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance by Laura Kaye
“I’m listening.” He pressed his lips to her throat.
“No, you’re not.”
“Sure I am.” He nibbled.
Her words came out breathless and he held her tighter in satisfaction. She said, “In Dearly, I bit you during my nightmare.”
“Yes. I was just thinking about that.”
“Love biting is common, and isn’t supposed to hurt when done right—”
“Excellent.” He brushed his lips along the length of her throat to her shoulder.
“You can’t bite me.”
He met her gaze. “Why not?”
“Mutual biting is how the permanent mating bond is formed between demons. It’s a chemical and psychic reaction caused by the mixing of venom and blood.”
“What?”
“My bite by itself did nothing.” She took his hand and ran her fingers over the spot she’d bitten. “And I can bite you again. Most courting couples engage in one-sided bite play. Just don’t return the favor unless you want to be stuck with me.”
“Lexine.” He grasped the back of her neck and pulled her to him. “Message received—don’t worry. But I could never be stuck with you. I can only dream of being so fortunate.”
He kissed her, easing her onto her back. Of course, if he did bite her, that would take care of her poacher prophecy once and for all, saving her from that fate and selfishly claiming her from all others in one quick bite. Would she hate him if he dropped his mouth to her shoulder that very moment and…?
“I bet I know what you’re thinking,” she murmured.
“Oh?”
“Don’t, Jett. You’ve only just started your training, and—”
“That’s not for you to worry about.”
“It would be if I was your mate, and besides, I don’t want a pity mating because of a dream, especially from you.”
“Pity? No. Don’t think for a moment I’m here, at all, out of pity.”
“What, then? Lust?”
He grinned. “Only partly.”
“And the other part?”
“Maybe I’m simply an arrogant oaf who thinks he deserves the chance to treat you better than the so-called males you’ve been with before, even though I don’t know how to take off a bra.”
She pushed him over onto his back and trailed kisses down his chest and stomach. Her thighs pressed against the weapons around his waist and he removed the guns, leaving only the twin blades he never wanted out of arm’s reach.
He kissed and touched every part of her, taking his time as she explored him in return, but he left her jeans in place, the restraint making his hands shake. This moment, by itself, was too much, too warm, too perfect, to rush past.
However, the sun eventually sunk lower behind the mountain, demanding his attention. He groaned.
“Hmm?”
“We should head back. I don’t want to say good night to you in a rush when Lark shows up.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder. “When will I see you again?”
“I’m not certain.”
The acceptance on her face went straight to his chest. “Lex, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I’ll be waiting. Tell Lark he better not make me wait too long, or I’ll have to hurt him.”
“I bet you would.” He took her mouth in a long, deep kiss. When would he see her again? It would probably be weeks. Would she really wait for him?
He had no choice but to wait and find out.
Chapter Fourteen
Jett rolled to avoid Lark’s blade, grasped a low pine limb, and swung himself into the tree. He expected Lark to follow, but the Guardian took off running in the other direction through the dark forest.
“What the hell?” Jett leaped to the ground and gave chase. He caught up with the other demon after a hundred feet and shoved him against an oak. “You’re dead. What kind of a move was that?”
“A poacher’s move. What human will fight you in a tree?” Lark shoved Jett’s hands away. “Some humans will be dumb enough to fight you, thinking they have a shot in hell of winning. They do, if there are enough of them. But their goal is to get by you. If I’d been a poacher, you would’ve just given me a shot at the archangels, and look how far I got.”
Damn it.
“Your role is defensive. You’re a shield, an impenetrable wall. You do not let them get by you. Period.”
“I get it.”
Lark nodded, tossed his blade in the air, and caught it, as he often did in thought. “We’ll drill hand to hand again tomorrow night.” He checked the time on his cell. “I’m going back to patrol now, and you’re coming with me.”
They made their way through the woods. When they neared the archangel house, Lark let out a series of shrill whistles. Devin jumped down from a tree, nodded, and left.
“I don’t understand why Devin isn’t the family’s second dedicated Guardian,” Jett said.
“As Ginger’s adoptive father, Devin is in a difficult, unprecedented position.” Lark led them toward a towering oak tree behind the house. “He’s capable and he’s trusted. Unofficially, he guards the family with as much care as I do. He’s an extra set of eyes and ears, greatly adding to the family’s security. But, realistically, he needs to be kept out of harm’s way. He’s supposed to stay inside with the rest of them in an emergency.”
“Not to be cold, but he isn’t an archangel. We protect them because the species has been nearly wiped out, yes?”
“Yes, but Devin’s death would cause them—particularly Ginger—grief. Unacceptable.”
“Our job is to keep them safe,” Jett said.
“It’s more than that.”
“They’d also grieve for you.”
“True enough.” Lark paused at the base of the tree, his hand on the thick bark. “For decades after I became Raphael’s Guardian, I keep my distance for that reason. I rarely spoke to him. I didn’t want to be anything more to him than a bodyguard. But Raphael doesn’t trust easily. He needed to know me to trust me, and the unease I caused him was intolerable.”
Jett scoffed. “At least I’m not alone in being too damned sentimental. I never expected it from you.”
Lark frowned and stared at the sky. “Have you asked yourself why you came here? Why you couldn’t just leave Raphael in our hands and go on about your business? Why you’re ‘too damned sentimental’?”
“Every fucking day.”
Lark got out his cell and asked Devin to come back. After hanging up, he said, “To explain properly, I need to take you to meet someone. It’s not what I had planned for tonight, but it’s as good a time as any.”
Post-midnight darkness enriched the forest as they traversed the main path. Lark took them all the way into the center of the colony and knocked on the door of one of the residence buildings.
As they waited, Jett stared over his shoulder, every muscle in his body tense. Dozens of demons congregated outside the buildings, the red demon-fire lanterns giving the scene a festive appearance. One group of demons clustered around a food-covered table. Another group played a rough version of football. In front of the residence buildings, some demons gardened, some stood around and chatted, and some tended to repairs on a roof. More gathered farther down the path at the market.
“I don’t belong here.” The words slipped before Jett could stop them.
Lark had lifted his hand to knock again, but paused. “Beg pardon?”
Shaking his head, Jett swept his hand out to indicate the bustling colony. “Lawrence spent a lot of time schooling me, all subjects, because he assessed my intelligence as part of his studies. He insisted he provided me with a better home than my parents would have because demons were ‘vicious animals.’”
Lark smiled, the expression savage, showing off his fangs. “Oh, but we are! I slaughtered six human men a couple weeks ago when the colony was attacked. I tortured one for information. I’m a vicious beast.”
“He described demons as most humans would recognize them. Hell
“Eaten you?” Lark leaned against the door and laughed.
“I’m serious.”
All humor gone from his tone, Lark said, “Clearly you know every word was bullshit.”
“Raphael was my first insight into reality, and I’ve been observing the truth for the last eleven months. But, for most of my life, my reality was that I was a thing of evil. These civilians were raised by nice parents in nice homes. I don’t belong with them. It’s like I carry a taint with me, an ugliness that I don’t want anywhere near them.”
“Those are your protective instincts talking, the very ones we’re here to discuss. Don’t confuse that with thinking there is actually anything wrong with you. What about Lexine?”
Jett met the other male’s gaze. “Part of me thinks I should stay away from her, too. But I just can’t help myself.”
Lark’s lips twitched. “You’re not going to taint her, idiot. But if she taints you, you’ll be better for it.” A pause. “You do realize, as a Guardian to the archangels, you’re not going to have much time to offer her. We don’t make good mates.”
“What the fuck?” Jett stared. “Your voice just hitched.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“It certainly did! You had a girl?”
“Fuck off.” Lark knocked on the door a second time. “It’s none of your damned business.”
“But—”
Lark hissed.
The door opened, spilling the crimson light of a lantern at their feet. A demon female with red braided hair stepped back, inviting them inside.
“Hello, Cinnamon,” Lark said. They settled in a tiny living room, and Lark made the introductions.
“Please, call me Minnie.” The female shook Jett’s hand. She sat, stiff, clutching a steaming mug.
“We won’t stay long, Minnie,” Lark said. “When we spoke the other day, you agreed to give Jett a demonstration. Are you still okay with that?”
“It’s no problem.” A tiny smile lit her face.
“Thank you.” Lark turned to Jett. “You’re aware, of course, that the majority of the demons alive today were born on earth, but we originally came here from someplace else?”
“Yes. Like the archangels, they seemed to fall from the sky.”
“Exactly. Minnie is the only demon currently living in Sanctuary who wasn’t born on earth. She fell.”
Minnie fidgeted. “I woke up in the forest that day. I don’t remember anything from before that. I knew things, though. I could speak. I used a fork as if I’d done it before. And, of course, I could do this.”
She set her mug down, leaned forward, and leveled an unfocused gaze on Jett.
“What—” His question died on his lips as a profound sense of calm washed over him, like those few blissful seconds after waking from a deep sleep in a comfortable bed. He stretched and leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes.
Ah, yes. He had to get one of these chairs. He could fall asleep right here, or read a good book. Better yet, he could pull Lexine into his lap and make love to her. Leisurely, thoroughly. They could fall asleep together, curled up in this chair.
It seemed like he was forgetting something important, something urgent. Did he have something to be angry about? He’d be damned if he could think of what it was. Oh, well. First a nap.
Wait, was someone crying? He opened his eyes. The girl, Minnie, held her head in her hands, her body shuddering with sobs.
“Enough, Minnie,” Lark said.
Between one blink and the next, Jett crashed back into himself and leaped to his feet. His heart hammered in his chest. Lawrence. Thornton. Bryce’s kidnapping. The attack on the colony and the archangels. Anger. Bitterness. Regret. Fear.
“What the hell just happened to me?”
Lark got to his feet. “She took your emotional pain away.”
“She what?”
Minnie cleaned her face with a tissue and took a deep breath. “I can sense all the hurt you carry, and I can absorb it into myself. For a few minutes, anyway. What happened to you? How did you even survive whatever it was you’ve been through?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Rare demons have psychic talents like the archangels have, but every demon who has ever fallen to earth has been an empath,” Lark said. “Like our ability to produce demon fire, the empathic skills require no energy, unlike typical psychic talents.”
“Negative and painful emotions have a much stronger signal than anything else,” Minnie added.
“Mind readers?” Jett eyed the female. “You took my memories away?”
“No,” Minnie said. “I can only sense and manipulate the emotional pain associated with the memories. Without the lingering pain to tie you to them, they slipped into the back of your mind.”
Jett scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Okay. Damn. You shouldn’t do that. You were crying.”
She smiled. “I took for two minutes what you’re no doubt holding like a torch day in and day out. I can’t stand to see anyone in such pain. I want to ease others when I can.”
“What is the point of this?” He got in Lark’s face.
“I needed you to experience that so you’d know exactly what your heritage is. Your parents fell to earth hundreds of years ago. Unlike the ability to produce demon fire, the empathic ability is never passed on full strength to the earthborn. However, some children inherit stronger skills than others. Those with the most pronounced empathic traits usually become Guardians. Like you and me.”
“I have no such talent.”
“No, you can’t manipulate emotions the way Minnie can, the way your parents could. But, to use your words, you’re ‘damned sentimental.’ You have a strong empathic trait that makes you much more than a deadly bodyguard. Though you may not be consciously aware of it, you’re responding to the archangels’ emotional state and trying to ease them, like Minnie just did for you. You’ve been doing that from the moment Thornton tasked you to monitor Raphael in his prison.”
“I don’t know… Any decent person would have…”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t want to claw your own skin off in frustration when Ginger went into labor.”
“I had no way to know she’d gone into labor.”
“But you did know.”
“Yes.”
“Did the delivery go smoothly?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“You do know. Trust your instincts. What do you think happened that night?”
Jett ground his teeth. “Something went wrong around sundown. My pulse started pounding. I was sweating and I couldn’t sit still.”
“A physical reaction? You may be even stronger than I thought. What else?”
Jett focused on the memory, on the peculiar thoughts that had entered his head. “Panic. Fear.” He’d blamed the episode on a dinner of bad meat. “Wren.”
“Correct.” Lark arched an eyebrow. “Phoenix wasn’t breathing. Wren’s healing talent didn’t help because her condition wasn’t caused by an injury. Thankfully, a couple good smacks between the wings did the trick. How did you know it was Wren, specifically?”
“I don’t—”
“Trust your instincts. Tell me. You’re not imagining things.”
“Fine. I sense that Wren and Raphael deal with emotions very differently. Raphael keeps everything under heavy layers of false calm. With Wren, everything comes to the surface. During the birth, I think Raphael wasn’t with them. He was worried, expectant. He must have been waiting for news at a different location.”
“Right again.”
“Okay…so if I’m such a strong empath, why don’t I respond to everyone in the colony? Even Lexine at the funeral didn’t affect me as much.”
“You’ll learn to use your skill more effectively in time. You’ve been watching over Raphael for years. A bond develops between a Guardian and his charges. You’re more in
“Like with Caza,” Minnie whispered.
The Guardian stiffened. “Indeed. Thank you for your help, Minnie. Jett, let’s go.”
…
Lexine made her way along Sanctuary’s main path, the negligee she’d found at the market wrapped discreetly in a sheet of tissue paper. Pleased with the wicked scrap of lace, she headed for her new apartment. After she and Jett had parted, she’d used the night hours to move her things. Her parents and some of the demons who worked the orchard had helped lug the stored bottles to the first floor and carry the bedroom furniture up the stairs. She didn’t have much, so the move hadn’t taken long.
Her new place gave her a sense of forward motion and purpose that she’d been lacking while under her parents’ roof. Tomorrow, she’d start the first batch of wine.
She rubbed the tissue paper between her fingers. When would she see Jett again? A few days? A few weeks? Would he like how she looked in the dainty lace? Did she even dare wear it for him? She’d never been sexually shy, but Jett was working his way under her skin in a way no one had before. Sitting in the home he’d made for himself, the first home he’d had since his childhood kidnapping, she’d known he was showing her something he’d share with no one else, and the intimacy left a lasting warmth around her heart.
She didn’t welcome the sensation. The closer she got to him, the more it would hurt later. Yet, she’d taken the negligee and couldn’t wait to try it on.
Foolish girl.
“Lex.”
She stopped walking at the sound of Jett’s voice and turned. He stood a few yards away, with Lark, outside of Cinnamon’s residence. Lark said something to Jett that she couldn’t hear, and he headed off on the path that led to the archangel house. Jett approached her.
“Hi.” The tissue paper crinkled under her tightening grip.
He didn’t speak for a moment, his head tilted to the side as he looked her over. Strain showed in the ridged set of his shoulders. “Hi.”
“How’d it go tonight?”
He shook his head and shot a narrowed-eyed stare toward Minnie’s place.