Demon's Kiss (8 page)

If Templeton were to harm her though?

Something inside Asmodeus went very cold and still at the
thought. Then he would indeed become the demon they supposed him to be. That
was how his people had earned the name in the first place—when their chosen
mates had been taken from them. Those among the women and children who could
fight had been slaughtered, those who could not…

As in the famous painting of
The Rape of the Sabine Women
,
the men had been lured away, their women taken and abused. No one spoke of
those who had fought to return to their rightful mates, to those who loved
them. They had been murdered for their efforts. Pagans, they were called,
because they were different, as if they did not feel, did not care.

No one ever spoke of the innocents who had died, only of
those who had submitted under force.

History, after all, was written by the victors.

But Asmodeus remembered, his heart twisting, as did all the
Daemonae.

He and his brothers had hoped and prayed for a time when the
Daemonae might be able to return to their rightful plane and take mates once
again. Now after millennia, there was Gabriel. And hope for something beyond
mere existence.

Under these circumstances and in this place.

His throat tightened.

Asmodeus took a breath of the slightly cleaner, fresher air
as they stepped outside into the modern world with all its myriad changes. He
tipped his face up to absorb what little sunshine he could for the brief
moments they permitted him to enjoy it.

Such did not exist on the other plane. The sunlight there
was thin, that world sere and barren under a dying sun—hot during the day and
bitterly cold at night, as were the deserts of this world, which he had visited
in his travels of old.

This plane had once been their home. Once upon a time his
kindred had roamed freely beneath this sky—so nearly the color of Gabriel’s
eyes—flying beneath its golden sun, the light beaming warm on their wings. They
longed to return to this, their ancestral home. But not like this, not under
these conditions.

If hate were a sword, Templeton would have been dead a thousand
times over, cut to shreds with every glance.

Still, it had been a shock at first to walk out into the
sounds and smells of this world he had once known. The sheer cacophony had been
overwhelming. His every sense had been assaulted. The air stank appallingly of
the effluvium of the vehicles they used. Any place where people gathered in
numbers always tended to be noisy and smelly but this was shockingly so. His
other senses had been equally violated. There had been too much to see. His
people had not ventured into this plane in centuries and even in ancient times
they had preferred more bucolic places where they could spread their wings.

Along with Templeton’s people, Asmodeus got into the waiting
vehicle.

That had been another adjustment, being able to travel as
fast as or faster than he could fly.

* * * * *

As a group, they toured an aircraft development plant under
the guise of a friendly visit. Busy and bustling, it was a place of innovation,
of creation. Asmodeus could feel it—energy and life seemed to seep from the
pores of those they passed. Folks smiled.

Not for long.

Glancing over his shoulder at his minions, Templeton singled
out one of them and said, “I want the plans. Find a way. Get them. Or I’ll have
Asmodeus turn you to cinders.”

Asmodeus would not. There were lines he would not cross, did
Templeton but know it. Templeton could set the whip to him all he liked but
Asmodeus would not kill, not in cold blood. Gabriel or no Gabriel, his true
mate or not, he would die first. She would not love him for doing such a thing,
even under duress.

To Asmodeus, Templeton said, “They have a new aircraft. It’s
going to experience unforeseen difficulties. Make it happen. George will bring
you the plans.”

He gave Asmodeus a significant glance and then looked away,
smiling as he strode to greet the man who approached them.

Asmodeus shuddered. What Templeton pictured in his mind was
horrific. Thousands would die if he did as Templeton ordered and the changes
weren’t caught in time.

Only Templeton would know the planes would fail. While word
of the new plane would drive the price of the company’s stock up, he would wait
until the first report of a crash, driving the price down, before offering to
buy at rock-bottom prices. A simple fix, the error found, and the company could
assure everyone its product was safe. The stock would rebound and Templeton
would be covered in glory for having saved the company.

This man was willing to slaughter thousands to line his
pockets with gold, but he would call Asmodeus debauched, a villain, evil,
simply for being what he was.

What greater monster was there than one who would sacrifice
the lives of others for his own gain?

For money?

Chapter Five

Templeton’s men brought Gabriel the food she’d asked for. It
didn’t appear to have been tampered with. Despite her hunger though, Gabriel
ate it slowly, taking a few bites and then waiting to see if perhaps Templeton
had drugged it. Apparently he hadn’t. The food helped restore some of the
strength she had lost to Asmodeus’ feeding.

Just the memory of that sent a rush of heat through her. Not
that she let those who watched see.

She had already tried to get past the apparently nonexistent
barriers surreptitiously, on the pretext of testing to find the limits of them.
They definitely existed. They looked like soap bubbles—faint iridescent
barriers—except she was on the inside.

Venturing even a cautious fraction of an inch too close, she
sensed something whip out of the shadows of half-seen jungle-like trees. She
glimpsed movement from the corner of her eye and quickly stepped back.

Something flashed by only inches from her face. Something
tangible enough to eddy the air as it passed.

In the outer darkness of the room someone laughed.

There was a sense of being watched not just from those outside
the rings but from something within them, as if her startling trip over them
had awakened something within each…and they waited. Hungrily.

She hid an atavistic shudder. Her skin crawled.

Knowing Templeton’s people watched, she stretched, bent,
paced, and considered Templeton’s words.

Everything was a weapon, even her body. She would use
whatever she had to free herself and Asmodeus.

Weapons. She felt naked without hers, exposed and helpless.
Chewing on her lip, she looked at the firepots. If Asmodeus could conjure
those, could he conjure her gun and badge?

Suppose he could, where would she hide them?

She couldn’t carry them, the thin silk didn’t hide much. The
circle was open on almost every side and there were the watchers.

The bed was an iron frame, the mattress thin and there were
no bedclothes.

It was something to think about. She’d have to remember to
ask him.

For the moment she’d use what she had—her wits.

She looked into the darkness.

“Templeton said I could use the bathroom and the shower,”
she said, keeping her voice reserved, distant.

One of Templeton’s men, clearly the leader of the guards—a
tallish man with sharp eyes, his head shaved bald and, by his manner and the
way he held his weapon, either ex-military or police and probably a mercenary—stepped
up to the edge of the circle.

She didn’t look at him directly, giving all the appearance
of discomfort she didn’t feel.

“Not so tough now, huh, Agent Nicholas,” he sneered,
“without your gun?”

Actually, for all her lack of height she was pretty tough
with or without it, she was a self-defense instructor now and again for the
Bureau but she wouldn’t let him know that. It wasn’t time yet. Let him think
her weak, broken.

She didn’t know their numbers, didn’t know their training.
Making a move without good information was stupid.

The man’s nametag identified him as Kyle Baker. She
recognized his name from her investigation. Baker was six miles of bad road, a
mercenary who hadn’t made it through SEAL training but had been picked up by a
security company that was nothing more than a thinly veiled supplier of
mercenaries. He’d been with Templeton’s security arm for a year. He’d risen
fast but not fast enough. He’d been part of a team sent to Iraq to protect some
of Templeton’s interests. Afterward he’d been charged with assault and murder
but the charges had eventually been dropped. When Templeton had hired him she’d
wondered why he needed a mercenary.

Now she knew.

Gabriel pretended to ignore him but she didn’t ignore the
danger he presented to her. There were men who entered the military to serve
their country and there were those who went in to kick some ass. He was one of
the latter, it was there in his eyes. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t push
it…yet.

With a nod to his men to indicate they should keep their
weapons on her, Baker made the gesture that opened the door between the rings.

It was good to know Templeton wasn’t the only one who could
do that. That gave her some ideas.

Unlike her unceremonious entrance, they were far more
careful as they passed through that ephemeral tunnel.

They escorted her to the bathroom but let her use the
facility alone, for which she was grateful. The explanation for their lack of
concern waited inside.

Escape was not only extremely unlikely, it was impossible,
as there were no windows and only the one door. She had the oppressive sense
they were deep underground. As the room had probably been intended for
Asmodeus’ use, it had very likely been thoroughly vetted for any possible
weapons or anything that could be used as one. It seemed oddly unused.
Apparently Baker and his men didn’t take advantage of it.

More than anything though, she wanted to be clean, for
herself and for Asmodeus, for when he touched her, ate her, fed from her, made
love to her.

As much as she loved making love to him though and loved the
scent of him on her skin—and just the thought of him had her aching—she would
be glad to be clean. Just the feel of the hot water as it ran over her skin
felt wonderful.

After the shower she pulled on the light silk dress he had
conjured for her out of thin air, fingering it in mild disbelief. Magic. As
beautiful as it was, it was also all she had to wear for the moment.

On their return, from the corners of her eyes, Gabriel noted
the small signs as the guards relaxed their attentiveness. Her diffidence eased
their alertness. That she hadn’t tried to escape was another indication to them
that she was beaten. Having seen Asmodeus, the sheer size of him, and knowing
him to be a demon, they would wonder what had happened behind the smoke and
their speculations only confirmed their assessment of her. She wasn’t a threat.

She noted how many men Baker had that she could see and
their positions. It was useful information.

It seemed as though hours went by but having no watch there
was no way for her to gauge the time that passed.

Gabriel knew the moment that Asmodeus returned to the
building, sensing him nearby somehow. Elation filled her and surprised her. Or
perhaps it wasn’t so surprising, considering he was her only ally here.

She let out a sigh of intense relief all the same but she
was careful not to let Templeton’s men see.

Asmodeus was back and safe.

In the back of her mind, she knew it was more than relief
she felt, that it was more than just a common bond. Much more. To her
astonishment, her breasts felt tight, her nipples and pussy ached. Every inch
of her body seemed to sing in response to his immediate presence, to his need.
His hunger for her was nearly palpable with each step closer to her.

Even more so once he entered the room.

That hunger in his eyes was for her, not just for what he
took from her, but for Gabriel herself.

His brilliant eyes glowed when his gaze settled on her and
her heartbeat accelerated just at the sight of him. Even as he entered the room
he was shifting to his true form. It was an effort for her not to smile with
relief, with pleasure, when she saw him. All she could think of was his mouth
on hers, his body against hers as he feasted on her, devoured her, his huge
cock buried deep inside her.

The sight of Gabriel standing within the shimmer of the
circles, looking so lovely in the dress he had conjured for her, her brilliant
eyes shining, made Asmodeus’ heart lift. His relief was nearly unbearable as he
fought the memories of the past—memories of those he had loved, left dead and
dying. Mother, brother, sister, lover…

She had showered. He could smell the clean scent of her skin
from across the room.

To see the joy in her eyes at his return, to watch her
nipples as they hardened beneath the thin silk of the dress thrilled him. It
took every ounce of control Asmodeus had not to pounce on her, his true mate,
as soon as he entered the hall that was their cage.

Baker gestured the gateway open and his men trained their
guns on her. Templeton’s minion waited at the podium, ready to chant at the
first sign of trouble from either of them as the men shackled Asmodeus once
again. They were taking no chances. With his size, strength and speed they
could not, dared not. He would tear them to pieces at the first opportunity and
they knew it.

Not that he cared so much about that at this moment.

He wanted Gabriel.

They watch us
, Asmodeus thought, frustrated, or he
would have taken her already, as soon as he was able to touch her. After so
long without a mate he could not get enough of her, he needed more of her.

He knew Templeton would not allow another smudge pot
incident and he hated it.