Demon Soul

• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-One
  
• Chapter Twenty-Two
  
• Chapter Twenty-Three
  
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  
• About the Author
  

"Where the hell are you?" It took all of Rose’s concentration to keep walking, one throbbing foot in front of the other, down the length of the empty outdoor shopping mall in Santa Monica. The long night had finally tumbled into a dawn cloaked in shadow and fog and the cry of seagulls.

After walking west for more hours than she cared to remember, at last she'd ended up at her destination, cold and miserable. With no purse, no money, and no wish to return to her previous life. All she had to cling to was a name.

Gabriel Caine
.

She stood on one foot and eased the tennis shoe off the other one, wincing at the sight of crimson blood on the heel of her white sock. Blisters. Perfect. Add that to being cold, ready to drop from exhaustion, miserable and without a penny to her name, and the day was starting out just great.

“Freaking
perfect
.” Rose sat heavily on the curb of the empty mall and rested her head on her knees. She wasn’t going to give up. Not now, not after all she’d been through to get here. Yet it would be so nice to sleep…her head slipped off her knees and she jerked awake.

Damn it Gabriel Caine, I need to talk to you. Please
.

Rose chewed on her thumbnail. He had to be close,
had
to be here somewhere. She refused to give in to panic.

“Gabriel. Gabriel. Gabriel.” His name fell like a litany on the cold air, as it had in her mind for the last three months.

When she’d been stuck in a coma, wandering the gray between-place, she’d been offered a chance to come back.
Rescue Gabriel Caine.
She’d accepted the task, grabbed for it eagerly. When she finally woke up, she’d worked her ass off getting healthy again. If saving this Gabriel dude meant she'd begin to atone for all her past sins and achieve some sort of redemption, then she was all for it.

She winced and walled out thoughts of her muddy past, refocusing on Gabriel. Guided to this place, at this time and in fighting shape despite the blisters and the exhaustion, the only missing ingredient was the man himself. As she waited for him, doubts crept in.

"I'm clear on the saving part. But from what? And how?" Her words fell flat in the thickness of the mist. “Especially since I can barely stand. I’m not exactly Marines material, people. And would it have hurt the lesson to add some aspirins to my pockets?”

The cry of a gull brought goose bumps. “Sorry. No disrespect meant, you know that, right?” Rose rubbed her chilled arms.
Gabriel Caine. Gabriel Caine. Gabriel Caine. 
"Come on. I don't have all day. Where the hell
are
you?"

Shut up, woman. Let a man think.
His voice was like velvet brushed with impatience in her mind.

Rose's muscles locked.
Gabriel?
Excitement rushed through her body, giving her the energy to stand and stare wildly into the mist. She cursed her racing heart. A dark shape came striding toward her through the fog and her breath caught.
Gabriel Caine?

You've been yammering at me for hours. Shut up, would you? You're giving me a headache.

His long black coat flared out as his legs ate up the space between them. Even from a distance he exuded a sexual magnetism that made Rose's knees weak, a cliché she'd never believed before now. She stared down the mall as he came toward her, the fog alternately hiding and revealing him with every step.

What the hell were you thinking, projecting my name out there for anyone with any telepathic abilities to overhear. Are you
trying
to get me killed?

Rose put her hands to her head in wonder, dug her fingers into her hair and tugged. The new pain assured her she was awake.
His exasperated sigh in her mind had her wincing. "Sorry, but we need to talk. Out loud." She was still wrapping her mind around the whole telepathic thing.

He was closer now. Gabriel Caine in person was bigger, stronger, sexier than any man she'd ever met, with an energy she could feel charging the air and brushing up against her skin. He had to be six five, if not taller.

She took a step back both mentally and physically. She was supposed to save
this
man? Rescue
him
? This muscled guy in leather, black jeans and a dangerous aura blended in perfectly with the misty, deserted mall. He didn't need her help. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, she was quite sure of it.

Rose swallowed her disappointment. She’d been so sure she could save him. But with each step bringing him closer, she had the overwhelming urge to curl up and cry.

Or curl up in his arms. A surge of longing for him shocked her. She'd never been so strongly attracted to anyone, but she could think about little else than the two of them, naked. Heat lit her cheeks. Talk about bad timing.

Gabriel snorted.
Bad timing doesn't begin to cover it. You
don't
want me too close to you.
His mental tone was dry and unamused.

Rose flushed. "I can't believe this," she said, and crossed her arms protectively. "People shouldn’t go around reading other people's minds."
Arrogant ass.

When they broadcast, it happens. Your mind is broadcasting on a wide band. You have no shield, no barrier of any kind to keep me out. And I'm not an arrogant ass.
As he came closer, he slowed down, finally stopping a couple yards away.

Surprise crossed his face before it hardened. “This is no time for games, Satine. You’re not welcome here. You will never be welcome here.”

“Excuse me? I’m not – whoever. My name is Rose,” she protested. “I’m supposed to be here. I’ve been sent here to help you. Though now that I see you, I’m not exactly sure what the hell it is I’m supposed to do for you.”

He took a couple more steps toward her and they stared at each other.

The picture she'd seen didn't do him justice. He looked dark-angel, messed-up beautiful. His gray eyes were a study in intensity. White skin covered a classical bone structure made more approachable by a crooked nose. A thick, shiny scar on his left cheek stretched down his throat and continued below the neck of his shirt. His hair, the color of ebony, brushed his shoulders without a hint of curl.

She glanced up and noticed him looking
her
up and down, interest gleaming in his half-open eyes. Heat washed over her body.

Power radiated from him. She fought to stand straight, to appear strong in the face of his strength. Inwardly she quailed. He really didn’t need her. What was she supposed to do now?

"Are you done staring?" His physical voice sounded much like his mental voice, a rough velvet. The interest she'd seen was masked now.

"Yeah. You?" Rose bit out the words. She looked around, anywhere but at him, and saw her shoe on the ground. She bent and slipped it on, wincing as the canvas hit her blister. "It’s important that we talk."

He studied her for a moment. "Through there." He pointed to an easily overlooked door beside an imports shop. "If I know my brother, it'll be open."

The glass door led to a staircase. Doing her best not to limp, Rose went first, flushing again as his scent seemed to surround her, an earthy, greenish-brown scent, elemental. She totally had to get a grip or she'd start stripping for him right on the staircase.