THREE DAYS. Three damn days since Danika and Reyes had left the fortress. They'd traveled on and off, going from plane to stolen car to train, never remaining in one place for long. Just in case. Neither of them wanted to lead Hunters to her family. And as much as it stunk to be on the run again, it was a thousand times better because Reyes was at her side. Surly as he was.
They hadn't spoken much. He barked an order every now and then - duck, run, be quiet - but that was the crux of their few conversations. She hadn't seen any Hunters, but that didn't mean anything and she lived in constant fear and dread. As usual.
They slept in cheap motels, always in the same room but never in the same bed. Sometimes, at night, after he'd fortified every exit of their motel room with extra locks, Reyes would barricade himself inside the bathroom. Like now.
Eyes narrowed, Danika peered at the closed door. She lay on a full-sized bed, the small, dingy room cast in shadows that were interrupted every so often by car lights streaming through the stained red curtains. She'd kicked off the stiff, starchy comforter and had propped herself against the headboard. Waiting. Reyes had been inside that bathroom for half an hour.
Oh, she knew exactly what he was doing. The knowledge didn't disgust her, it...saddened her. Why did he no longer desire her? Why did he not come to her for relief from his demon?
Because he thought she was some silly artifact?
"Dummy," she muttered.
He and his friends kept in close contact. From the one-sided conversations she'd managed to "accidentally" overhear as he whispered into his cell phone - would have helped if she'd possessed Ashlyn's ability to listen to any conversation - she knew Hunters had indeed attacked the fortress. Stefano had escaped unscathed. A few Lords had been seriously injured but were thankfully healing. Oh, yeah. And they wanted her to paint. Breathe, eat and paint. That's all they wanted her to do.
A few months ago, that might have made her happy.
Reyes had given her a sketchbook, which she'd used every morning to purge herself of her riotous dreams. Dreams more violent than ever as demons clawed at the jagged, flame-drenched walls of hell. When she finished, Reyes would tear the pages and have her fax them to Lucien. She didn't know if the drawings had helped their cause. No one would tell her a damn thing.
"'Cause I'm just the lowly painter girl," she grumbled.
The bathroom door creaked open. Reyes had turned off the lights, so she saw only his shadow as he strode out. The scent of sandalwood was laced with the metallic tang of blood, and both wafted to her. While she couldn't see his features, she was bathed in moonlight and his to peruse. She felt the intensity of his gaze boring into her, sliding over her.
His heat - oh, she missed his heat. Since being with him, she hadn't experienced any more of that mind-numbing cold. Still. Was it too much to ask of him to keep her well supplied in his mega hotness? Apparently.
"Worried about your family?" he asked, settling on the pallet he'd made on the floor.
She'd called her grandmother's friends. They still denied seeing the woman, and she believed them. "No. They're fine. Maybe I'm crazy, but I've convinced myself they're fine. I am excited about seeing them tomorrow. Thank you for finally relenting, by the way."
"I did not relent for you. I relented because I have seen no sign of Hunters."
"Whatever. I'm still grateful."
One minute after another passed. He didn't move. No sound - not even the whisper of his breath - rose from that floor. She hated the silence. It allowed her mind to wonder and churn, worry about what Reyes was thinking, fret about what would happen in the coming days, lament the fact that she'd once wanted only one night with Reyes but would now beg for another. And another.
The more she smelled Reyes, the more she desired him. The more her blood rushed and the core of her throbbed. "Distract me," she said, scooting down the mattress to lie flat. She pulled the sheet up and it rasped against her hardening nipples. She barely stifled a moan. "Please."
"How?"
"I don't know. Tell me something about you." Had she asked that of him before? She couldn't remember.
"I thought you did not wish to know anything about me."
Oh, yeah. "I changed my mind. I'm a girl, I can do that."
Another minute of silence, then, "I do not want to play this game, Danika."
Something she'd noticed about him. He called her Danika when he wanted to keep distance between them. He called her angel when he wanted to draw her closer. She missed being called angel.
They'd had sex all those days ago, and it had been wonderful. She wanted, needed, more. Of him. Only him. He was an addiction. He'd believed her about not helping the Hunters when other men might have thought her disloyal. He'd rushed her to safety, covering her body with his own when gunshots blasted. He'd given her a taste of the paradise she sometimes painted, gently rocking her to orgasm.
Now, she wanted wild. Hard and rough. Yes, she'd once thought she would be too disgusted to participate in such an act. Thought she would not be able to hurt another being like that. Right here, right now, she knew better. There was nothing more satisfying than meeting a man's - your man's - needs. Being the one to please him completely, give him utter relief.
A few times on their journey, she'd tried to broach the subject of sex with Reyes. She'd even reached out and brushed her fingers through his hair, over his jaw and down his chest. The first time he'd stopped her by walking away. The second he'd snapped a terse warning.
"I can't sleep," she said. "Talk to me about something. You've obviously been around a long - long - time." Okay. Now her frustration was showing. She'd basically called him an old man. "Surely you can regale me with some type of history lesson."
She thought she heard him snort.
Her lips twitched. "Not up for the challenge?"
"Tell me something about yourself first. How did you support yourself? In your old life."
Old life. Seemed an eternity ago. "I did portraits and murals. I was never rich, but it paid the bills. My mom was disappointed at first. Painting is how my grandmother earned a living for most of her life, and they wanted something different for me. Medical school, law school. Something more...important, I guess."
"Painting is important. It adds beauty to the world."
"Thank you." His words endeared him to her all the more. "My grandmother tried to kill herself once. Said her paintings were driving her insane. But then, after the unsuccessful attempt, her creative well dried up and she never painted again. That well must have sprung inside me, because I began having the dreams a few weeks later. Her life became peaceful and mine, though I was only a child, turbulent. I guess that's why I always understood my mother's reluctance to let me pursue the arts."
"What happened to your father? Did he stay home when you traveled to Budapest or is he...had he..."
"Died? No. He walked out on us a while ago. Started another family." The loss had devastated her. She'd considered him a god. At the very least, a good man with a kind heart. But he'd abandoned her as if she'd meant nothing to him. "My mom told me his midlife crisis kicked in."
"I am sorry."
"After that, my grandparents - my mom's parents - stepped in and helped my mom raise us. My grandpa became a second father to me, which is why his death nearly destroyed me."
"You have known much loss in your short life."
"Yes." And she didn't want to lose Reyes, too. She'd tried to prevent it, had fought against it, but somehow he'd come to mean the world to her. "Your turn to tell me something."
A pause. Then, "Give me a moment to think."
She rotated to her side. Again the sheet rasped against her, reminding her that a very handsome, sensual man was mere inches away. Still. I'm wearing a T-shirt and surrounded by cotton. My body shouldn't react as though I'm naked and being draped by silk. But the heat was spreading, infusing her every cell.
"Tell me about your other girlfriends." That ought to put a damper on her arousal. Then she realized exactly what she'd said. "By other," she rushed to say, "I don't mean that I'm your current girlfriend or that I've ever been your girlfriend." God, could this conversation get any more embarrassing?
A sigh pushed from him, and Danika would have sworn she felt that minty breath all over her sensitive body.
"I tried to keep females. Two of them."
Two? The whores! Whoa, girl. Bring it down a notch. "Keep them? What do you mean?"
"Have a relationship," he clarified.
"What happened?" Did they fall down a flight of stairs and break their ugly faces? Jealousy was so not a good look for her, she decided.
"After a few weeks in my bed, they began to lash out at everyone they encountered. I mentioned that before, but did I tell you they laughed while doing it? Tripping people - innocents. Pushing, scratching, punching. Even cutting."
She detected a note of guilt in his voice. "And you still think you made them that way?"
"I know I did."
"Maybe that was their nature. Maybe you just helped them unleash their true desires. Maybe you were subconsciously drawn to that type of woman, knowing they would not find your tastes...unappealing."
More silence. Then, "Maybe," he said, and there was hope in his voice this time, the guilt completely overshadowed.
Hope. She wouldn't ponder the merits of it. Not tonight.
"Your nature is gentle," he added as an afterthought, "yet the very day we were reunited after months apart, you bit me."
"I was furious with you and scared for my family."
"Or Pain influenced you, luring you to attack me."
"Or I was furious and scared," she said again.
"As I said, your nature is gentle."
"Nope, sorry. I hate to disillusion you, but I've always had a volatile temper."
"I do not believe you."
"No," she said. "You believe me, you just don't want to believe me. Why is that? Don't want to admit we might be more alike than you're comfortable with? Don't think you'll like who I really am?" Ouch. Just the thought sparked an ache in her chest.
"I like who you are. I am just scared of who you are. Sweet, passionate, giving, caring. And yes, a little wild. I want you more than I've ever wanted another."
Sweet Jesus. Words to melt the coldest of hearts.
"Tell me of your boyfriends," he commanded. The words lashed at her.
"You told me you never wanted me to discuss them."
"I changed my mind. I am a man, I'm allowed to do that."
She laughed. Gold star for Reyes for throwing her words back at her.
"Have you ever...loved a man?"
"No." Did she love Reyes? What she felt for him was so much more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. The fervent wanting and the craving and the softness inside her.... Shit, shit, shit. "But I've dated," she forced out. "A lot."
"What do you mean by a lot?" Some of the fierceness had left him. At least he no longer sounded ready to kill anyone who even glanced in his direction.
"A girl has to kiss a thousand frogs before she finds her prince, my sister used to tell me. I took that to heart and used to go out with anyone who would ask me. And just so you know, I was not easy."
"Easy?"
"You know, doing the naked tango with anyone who expresses interest."
Another almost snort. "Rest assured, I know you are far from easy." Then, "Did someone call you easy? If so, I will - "
"Reyes, stop," she said, unable to keep the laughter from her voice. His fierceness had returned full force. "No one called me easy." She loved that he was willing to destroy anyone who might have, though. "I just wanted to make sure you knew. I've only dated a few guys seriously."
"Shall I kill them?"
"Why, Reyes, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Danika thought she heard him chuckle.
"I have never been in love," he said, surprising her.
Suddenly she felt like singing and dancing. He was hers, had always been hers. "Not even before you were possessed?"
"Not even before."
She tried to picture him as he must have been hundreds, thousands, of years ago but couldn't. "What were you like? Back then?"
"I was like I am now, only...more relaxed, I suppose." He chuckled, a memory probably playing through his mind. That chuckle slid over her like a caress. "I did have a teasing side and used to torment Aeron relentlessly, hiding his weapons, cutting his hair while he slept. Finally, he started shaving it."
"I wish I could've known you."
"Perhaps it's good you didn't. We were like children back then. We were born fully formed of body, but our minds were new and we constantly marveled at the world around us. We trained to be warriors, yet had only the gods and their amusements as our role models."
Even with his description in her mind, she couldn't picture him so childlike, laughing and running and teasing. "How is it possible you were born a fully grown man?"
"You mix the blood of a god, earth, fire, water..." His voice trailed off. "At least, that's what we were told. And you? What were you like as a child?"
"Typical, I suppose. Tantrums and whining to get what I wanted. My mother used to call me her Tasmanian devil."
"You probably looked like an angel, even then."
Angel. Her heart skipped a beat. "Reyes," she said breathlessly.
"Yes," he replied with resignation.
"I want to be with you again."
The silence returned, a snake that slithered around its prey and choked. Had he truly stopped wanting her? Despite everything he'd just said? He'd had a taste of her, and that had been enough? Or had he just not liked what he'd tasted?
"Danika - "
She growled in frustration. Danika again. "Never mind. Just...shut up and go to sleep." She flipped angrily to her stomach and pounded her fist into the pillow to flatten it.
There was no sound to alert her of any movement on Reyes's part, but suddenly he was on top of her, his heavy body pinning her down and smashing her face into the mattress. She gasped.
His fingers gripped her neck tightly, turning her face and allowing her to breathe. He didn't shift, though, didn't roll off and free her. He kept her pinned. He hovered over her, warm breath lashing out like a whip. From the corner of her eye, she could see his face in profile. His eyes glowed with fire, and his teeth were bared.
Moonlight finally found him, casting a golden glow over his dark, honey-colored skin. He was panting, sweat was glistening. His long, thick erection pressed against her bottom, and she shivered.
"I will not taint you," he snarled. "Do you understand? If that means I cannot have you again, then I will not have you."
"Then you're dumb! You've said that before, and I'm tired of hearing it."
"You have no idea what could happen to you. You have no concept of - "
"You're afraid I'll become pain hungry like those women. Well, guess what? That isn't my nature! I killed a man, Reyes. A human. A Hunter. I hurt him and then I killed him. Have I since attacked everyone I've encountered? Did I attack you and your friends when I had every reason to do so?"
"No." Reyes arched into her. "No."
She couldn't stop her moan. "I made love to you, yet I didn't then start plotting the deaths of your friends, wanting to hurt them. In fact, immediately afterward I tried to protect you." Made love, she'd said. Before, she'd insisted it was only sex.
"Because I was gentle. Because I kept my demon away from you."
He wanted her to demand gentleness again. He wanted her to demand he keep his demon away from her again. She knew it, felt it, but wasn't going to do it. "Give me everything you've got this time. Let me prove I'm not going to change."
"No. I am not willing to risk it." But he didn't stop moving against her, rubbing that erection between her cheeks. His hands slid down her arms and latched on to her wrists. He moved them over her head and gripped them with one hand while tracing the other along her side, stopping at the curve of her breast.
Her teeth had long since sunk into her bottom lip. She nibbled, drawing blood. "Yes," she groaned. "Keep going. Touch."
His fingers dug around her, between her body and the mattress, and then he was cupping her breast fully, the nipple locked between two fingers.
A spear of pleasure shot through her. She raised her hips, meeting his erection, silently begging for a more intimate touch. "Remove my shirt. Touch my skin."
"Too dangerous."
"We're doing this."
"You plan to force me?" he asked with amusement.
"If need be. Now remove my shirt."
Growling as if in pain - sweet pain - he released her only long enough to drag the material over her head and toss the shirt aside. "Gods," he growled. "You're not wearing any panties."
"I was hopeful." She could feel his jeans against her lower body, rough, like calluses. "Done resisting me?"
How many minutes passed before he spoke, she didn't know. Finally, he said, "We'll be gentle." The words were so low, so rough she had trouble understanding them. "We'll be slow. Like before."
Danika shook her head, hair batting against her temple. "Hard. Fast."
"No. I've already cut myself and have no more need for pain."
He'd already cut himself? Since leaving the bathroom? As for the other, she knew he was lying. He'd sounded too reluctant; he would need more. "But - "
His hand once again dug and cupped and she forgot her protest.
"Oh, God," she shouted. "Yes. More."
"Are you wet, little angel?"
She felt as if she'd been waiting for him, for his touch, forever. Desperate and eager. "Find out for yourself."
A moment later, she was flipped over and peering up at him. He was a god, strong and fierce, all of his intense sexuality focused solely on her. His gaze glided over her breasts, and he licked his lips. Then that gaze moved to her stomach, and her muscles quivered.
He stopped and lingered at the fine patch of curls between her legs. Lines of tension branched around his eyes as his hands gripped her knees and spread them wide. His gaze heated, flames actually crackling inside the black-as-night, starless depths.
"Grip the headboard," he commanded.
She'd been reaching for him, meaning to scrape her nails over his chest. Perhaps draw blood. "But - "
Once again he stopped her from finishing a sentence. "Grip. The. Headboard. Now. Or I'll return to my pallet."
Was he close to losing control? If so, he needed her to hurt him. Right? She could finally prove to him - and herself - that she was capable of doing this. "Let me, Reyes. Please."
"No. I will not tell you again. Grip the headboard or this ends now."
"Fine. But I am not always going to be so accommodating. Understand?" Eyes narrowed, she slowly reached behind her and clutched the iron rails. They were cold, drawing goose bumps from her flesh. "Happy?"
"Not yet. Not until I taste you."
God, yes. "I want to taste you this time, too."
A moan separated his lips. He liked the idea, but she suspected he wouldn't cave. He probably assumed she'd explore his body, trying to hurt him while doing so. He assumed correctly.
What would she have to do to prove to him that she wouldn't be tainted by the violence he needed?
"So pretty," he cooed, all of his anger gone. Two of his fingers played between her damp folds, circling her clitoris.
Her hips arched of their own accord, her body desperate for more of him. "Reyes," she breathed.
"More?"
"Please."
Those two fingers pushed inside her, pumped once, twice, ratcheting up her desire to an uncontrollable degree.
"You're soaking my hand," he said, pride in his tone.
"Lick me. Please." She had to have his fingers, had to have his tongue. All of him she could get, she craved. And yet, she suspected it might never be enough.
Rather than grant her plea, he pulled from her and severed contact.
"No!" she cried. "What are you doing?"
"Getting naked." He shed his jeans, tossed them aside.
Oh. "Hurry!"
But he didn't return to her right away. She couldn't stop writhing as he leaned down toward the floor.
"Reyes?"
"Condom." He straightened, a silver packet glinting in the moonlight.
"Not so indifferent, after all, hmm?"
"Bought them this morning. Knew my resolve was weak." The packet disappeared from her view, and there was a rustle of sheets.
Then his fingers were back inside her. Three this time. "God, yes. Yes."
And then his mouth was on hers, hot tongue stroking inside her.
So good. Felt so good. His cock rubbed against her, smooth and hot. There was another flash of silver, he moaned in bliss, and she thought, Another condom? Surely not. He didn't need two. What...why...Oh, God. He kissed down her body, knew just where to lick, just where to suck and lave.
"Stop for a minute," she gasped out. She needed to think, and she couldn't do it with his mouth on her.
"Why?" he asked, sucking on her clitoris as he pulled back. She nearly came, the pleasure was so intense.
Silver. What had that second flash of silver been? What would cause him to moan like that?
"Danika?"
A knife, she suddenly realized. He'd cut himself. She knew it, and she didn't like it. Her eyes closed briefly, blocking the sight of him. Her arousal had glistened on his lips, and he'd been in the process of licking it away.
"Hand over the blade," she commanded. "Now."
REYES WAS SHOCKED by Danika's order, aroused to the point of that delicious pain. He marveled that he hadn't needed to cut himself to sustain his erection, but he'd done it because he hadn't wanted Pain to rear its ugly head. He hadn't wanted his resolve to weaken, giving Danika an opportunity to pounce.
Like now.
Even still, less and less did he want to stop her. More and more, he liked the thought of being hurt by her.
Won't taint her, can't taint her. Too precious. Too mine.
Too long without her.
He tossed the blade so that it embedded in the far wall, the hilt swaying mockingly.
"No," he said, glaring down at this woman who so consumed his thoughts.
He'd had her once and shouldn't have desired her so fiercely again. But he needed her. Craved her like air. And he could have her, if he remained gentle.
"The knife," she said tightly. "Get it for me."
Scowling, he leaned down until they were nose to nose. She hadn't released the headboard, so her back was arched. Her hard nipples pressed into his chest, a temptation he wanted in his mouth.
Soon.
He gripped his swollen shaft with one hand and her chin with the other. "Do you want me?"
Her pupils, already dilated, swallowed the rest of that lush jade. "Yes. You know I do."
"You'll take me, then, without hurting me. And I'll give it, without hurting you. That is the only way this can work."
He waited for her response, the tip of his erection pressing into her. When a minute dragged by without a word from her, he leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth.
Another gasp from her, this one layered with need.
"Tell me I'm right," he insisted. He sucked on the other nipple, hard, then licked the sting away.
"Yes. Yes."
All he needed to hear.
He shoved to the hilt, and they cried out in unison. Her inner walls were hot and wet, silk forged by liquid fire. All of his muscles strained for release, for the exquisite pleasure he had never really experienced with anyone else.
From the beginning, his heart had recognized this woman as his. Like the demon, she was part of him, a part needed to make him whole. Her courage delighted him. Her teasing way, now that he'd experienced it, tempted him. Her willingness to help him despite everything that had happened touched him.
Right here, right now, she was his. A ticket out of hell and into heaven.
He did not know if he would ever be able to let her go, but he knew that he needed to try. For her safety. As she had once pointed out, his life was one of war and torment and that would not change. She deserved better.
He'd tried to distance himself from her, but had failed. Tomorrow, he thought, pumping and gliding in and out of her.
She writhed, her head thrashing. She moaned and chanted his name. "How is it so good?"
"Angel," he panted. "Don't know."
She climaxed a second later, knees squeezing him. She finally released the headboard and grabbed his face, jerking him down for a wild kiss.
Their tongues rolled together in a bid for dominance, their teeth clashing. Her nails dug into him, and he followed her right over the edge, roaring her name, seed jetting in a hot flow. He didn't know how it was possible, how he could feel pleasure without intense pain. Didn't understand why Pain was so quiet when he was with Danika, as if the demon was content to allow Reyes these moments. Didn't understand how he felt almost...normal with her.
He didn't have time to ponder it, either. Like the last time, his spirit seemed to leave his body, floating, soaring, stopping only when reaching the golden gates of heaven. He'd given no real thought to this before, assuming he'd simply been drunk with pleasure. Now, he watched wide-eyed as angels flew beside him, feathers brushing his skin in delicate strokes. Clouds hovered all around, the sun shining brightly, the sky painted azure.
One angel looked at him, smiling slowly. "Light and dark," the heavenly creature said in a voice more song than human. "Pretty."
In that instant, Reyes realized something frightening. Danika was indeed the All-Seeing Eye, and that Eye was more complex than anyone had realized. For she somehow opened a portal between earth and the hereafter. A portal many would probably kill to possess.
DREAMS PLAGUED DANIKA all night. Dark dreams, turbulent and bloody. The fires of hell licked at her, smoke billowing, putrid, filling her nose and making her gag. She'd been here a thousand times before, but the evil never failed to creep her out.
Scaled demons of every color crawled all around the rocky cavern. Screams, such screams, echoed off the blood-soaked walls. No one seemed to notice her, for they were too busy racing between the souls chained all around.
Her gaze landed on one human soul in particular, his features suddenly clear. Her jaw dropped. Somehow, someway, she was staring at the Hunter she'd killed. How was that...how could...no, not possible. Just a dream, she reminded herself.
"Tell me what you know about the Eye," a demon purred at his side.
The Hunter trembled, remaining silent.
Laughing, the demon began clawing at his skin, ripping it to ribbons. He screamed over and over, the demon continuing to laugh, and soon her screams joined the chorus.
"I'm here, angel. I'm here."
Reyes's voice pierced her mind and jerked her from the dream. Sweat poured from her body. She couldn't quite catch her breath. Reyes held her, and she burrowed against him, his strength trickling into her.
"What happened?" he asked, stroking her back.
"I saw a demon torturing the man I killed, and demanding to know about me. Just hold me," she pleaded. In the morning, she would sketch what she had seen. Right now, she simply needed her man. Maybe I am the Eye. Maybe I can see directly into the afterlife. The nightmares had always felt real. Made sense, she supposed, that they would be.
God, the thought of that...sickened her.
Reyes's arms tightened around her. His fingers traced patterns along her spine. Several minutes passed, and she began to relax. Her sense of rightness returned, the bad stuff giving way to good.
Funny that it had taken a demon to chase her nightmares away, she mused as she drifted to a peaceful sleep.