Demons Prefer Blondes (21 page)

Rafe flung himself from the bed and rushed to the door. With a forceful tug, he sent it flying open. With each flash, the light grew stronger, more intense. Like a beacon.

A beacon? Oh shit.

And it was all her fault. She was the one who egged him on. Her and her horny hormones. Lump in throat, she grabbed her robe from the floor and flung it on. Following Rafe, she raced down the hallway. Sitting in the middle of the living room was the chest, the purple styling cape twisted around it on the floor. How could she have been so stupid?

With a shake of his head and a deep breath of air, Rafe reached down and flung the fabric back over the dusty box. She hated that thing. She wanted to kick it and send it flying back to whence it came. Fingers balled into tight fists, she fought her rage. Rage directed at herself.

“This is all my fault,” she muttered, fumbling with the ties to her robe. “I enraptured you. I’m sorry.” Meandering her way to the futon, she slumped into its not-so-comfy recesses. Fingers scraping through strands of hair, she blew out a ragged sigh.

“You didn’t enrapture me.” Despite his firm tone, Rafe’s gaze softened, comforting her. He took seat next to her and grabbed her hand. The heated sparks now replaced by tender warmth. “I would be passed out in bed, otherwise.”

Entwining her fingers in his, she shook her head. Glancing out the window as the snow tapered to a steady fall, she sucked in a racking sigh. “We shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve known better. Karma’s a bitch.”

“Everything happens for a reason.” Despite the urgency of the situation, his voice remained calm, with clear surety.

“So how long do we have until the demons of Connolly Park come busting down my door?”

“I’ve got a protection charm in place, have you forgotten?”

She rolled her eyes. “That charm didn’t stop Belial from waltzing into my shop earlier.”

“True.” Rafe scrubbed a hand across his chin. “But Lilith certainly weakened him. He won’t be doing much
poofing
any time soon.”

With a slow nod, she curled into Rafe’s arms. “I hope you’re right.” Because she certainly didn’t want to be the cause of another failed mission. She had a connection with him, stronger than any man she’d ever known—besides her father, of course. She sure as hell wouldn’t let some post-coital mishap muck things up.

He lowered his lips to her cheek. “I’ve sworn to protect you, Lucy. That won’t change.”

“I appreciate that, more than you’ll ever know.” Teeth digging into her lower lip, she blew a long breath out her nose. “So how long do we have?”

Rafe swiped a defiant strand of hair from her cheek, the warmth still emanating from his fingertips. “You’ll be safe. I’ll protect you.”

Despite his gentleness, a fire spurred inside her. Gentleness served its purpose, but she’d be damned if she just sat back while Rafe and his demon buddies did all the fighting. Especially if she was the reason all of them were fighting. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I don’t need protection.” Firm with resolve, her gaze met his. “I’m fighting, too.”

Jaw ticking, he shook his head. “You’re royalty. You can’t.”

“Royalty, schmoyalty. I’m good at judo, or did you forget?” With a quick bounce, she bounded up off the futon and flailed her fists. “Hi-yah!”

Rafe blew out a deep breath. “It isn’t done.”

With a tilt to her chin, she slammed her hands to her waist. “It is now. Besides, it’s my fault you’re in this mess.”

“How so?”

Fists tight at her sides, she bit her lip. “I opened the chest.”

“You didn’t know any better.”

“Yes I did. Why don’t you just let me take the blame?”

“Belial is to blame.” Rafe’s mouth remained inches from hers. “Had he not attacked, the chest would still be in Limbo. You. Are. Not. To. Blame. Got it?”

With a silent nod, she unclenched her fists. “I’m still fighting.”

“Your father won’t approve.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Daddy’s little girl, are you?”

“Pretty much get what I want.”

“Then why did your father threaten eternal damnation on me if any harm befalls you?”

“If.” She waggled her brow. Sucking in a determined breath of air, she reached down and lugged the two-ton book of demon rules onto her lap and flipped it open. “So teach me how to protect myself.”

“Lucy…” His voice firm, he narrowed his gaze. Why did she get the sneaky suspicion that he was hiding something?

Fine, be that way
.

“Whatever, I’ll do it myself.” Finger tracing over ancient Latin, she perused the elegant script. Incantation after incantation and a string of spells and rituals filled the deep recesses of her mind. Invocations and potions were cool enough, but where was the section on kicking Infernati ass?

With a growl, she tore through the pages. “A little help?”

“Your father—”

“Knows better.” Flipping a page, a huge smile curved her lips. In rich detail, emblazoned on the thick parchment, were all forms of weapons. Swords, daggers, crossbows, and modern defense mechanisms. Because nothing said, “Die, demon scum” better than a silver slug planted deep in their black hearts. Finally, she was getting somewhere—no thanks to Rafe. “So where can I get some of these?” She glanced over at the small dagger she so wanted to slice into Lamia’s chest earlier. She needed another upgrade.

As if it were light as air, Rafe plucked the book from her lap and slammed it closed. “I won’t send another woman to her death.”

She reached over to grab the book back. “I’m not going to die.”

Without missing a step, Rafe reached out and grabbed her wrist. “No, you’re not. I’m supposed to keep you safe, and I’m going to make damned sure of it.”

“Have fun with that.” Tugging her arm from his grip, she flashed a wry smile. Her finger traced a slow path down a rigid bicep. Warmth spiked to a blazing inferno. Too bad he’d put those stupid pants back on. She leaned in closer, her lips inches from his ear. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. And I will find a way.”

Eyes swirling and flashing, Rafe turned to meet her gaze. His jaw twitched and his fists clenched as a torrent of despair and frustration washed over his face. “My sister said something similar.”

His words hit like a surprise jab to her stomach. She drew her lips into a straight line and clasped her hands together. He felt guilty about allowing his sister to join the guard. She should’ve known. Casting her glance down to her tightly laced fingers, she heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Rafe. Your sister—”

Crooking his finger, he lifted her chin to meet his gaze, warm and inviting. “Don’t be.” With tender care, he lowered his lips to hers.

Tingles and sparks danced across their lips. Throwing her arms around his neck, she laced her fingers in his hair and drew him closer. With teasing nips and nibbles, their mouths melted together. She never wanted it to end.

Nothing felt so perfect. Amazement, mixed with desire, flooded her veins. Warmth emanated from her every pore, every strand of hair, everywhere. A feeling she’d felt before, but never so intense.

What was going on?

Who was she kidding? She knew exactly what was happening. No matter how hard she tried to deny it. His smile, although fleeting, sent her heart aflutter. His voice made her legs turn to mush and his kisses sent all sorts of energy coursing through her. And the sex, hot damn. Not only was it toe-curling, it was explosive and left her hungry for more. For five years, she’d been content without a man. But now, all she could think about was Rafe. She didn’t ask for this. Not now, with so much at stake.

His lips lingered before he pulled away. With a long tender trace along her cheek, he gazed down at her. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? Her heart thudded a wild beat. Gnawing her lip, she laced and unlaced her fingers. Should she tell him? What would he think? What would he say? She needed to show him she could be strong. She needed to show him she could fight.

“Nothing,” she replied, her tone nonchalant.

“Very well.” He punctuated his sentence with a kiss to her nose. Gaze swirling, His lip crooked up in a smile. “Your father warned me you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Her gaze remained indifferent as she crossed her arms. “Glad he hasn’t forgotten me in ten years.” She wouldn’t deny it. She was thrilled that her dad was still alive. Him being the Sexubi king and faking his death—not so thrilling. Confusion and anger simmered inside. Like she could just forgive him.

“Your father loves you. He had to do it to keep you safe.” His hand searched for hers, warmth guiding him like a beacon.

The fact that her dad, Lilu, whatever his name was, had shared more with Rafe didn’t make matters any better. Then again, she hadn’t been too receptive. A deep sigh pushed through her lips. “I know. I just need time.”

Nodding, Rafe took her in his arms. With a brush of a stubborn lock of hair, he smiled. A breath of sheer contentment flowed from her mouth as she snuggled closer to him. Who would’ve known such a rock-solid behemoth of a man could be so gentle.

“I’ve come up with a compromise.”

She glanced up at him with a bemused quirk. “A compromise for what?”

Hands gripping her shoulders, his gaze burned into hers. “You can fight.”

“Really?”

“Yes…” He scratched his chin, thought clouding his eyes.

Here comes the “but.”

“Spit it out.” She tossed a rogue lock of hair from her cheek.

“You can fight only if you’re in danger and your life depends on it.” With that, he reached for the book and pulled it open. Pointing to a long katana, he smiled. “This will be a good weapon to match your martial arts skills.”

Skills she didn’t have to train to acquire. Granted it wasn’t reading minds or poofing here and there, but coupled with the Latin, she couldn’t have asked for any better talents. “Sounds good. So where do I get one?”

“I’ll have Kalli get one for you.” Rafe flipped the page. “Hopefully it can be prepared in time.”

Her eyes widened. “Prepared?”

“Every weapon needs to be purified before we use it.” He flipped a few hundred pages. “Here. This is the ceremony.”

Looking down at the beautiful illustration, she took in its beauty. Holding a sword up with both hands, an angel floated above a rose-bedecked altar. Flanking the altar, several other angels held their arms high, their white gossamer floating gowns flowing around them. “Do I need to be there?”

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “The angels’ power is strong enough. Besides, it isn’t safe for you to travel to Limbo just yet.”

She gave him an acquiescent nod. He did have a point. “How long will it take?”

With a shrug, Rafe whipped his gaze around the room. “Where’s my jacket?”

“Over there,” she said, pointing toward the corner where the light had teetered just hours before.

A sly smile curved his lips. “Glad your lamp is still intact.” With that, he shuffled to the corner and grabbed the heap of leather off the floor. Rifling through the pockets, he pulled out the BlackBerry he’d used earlier.

“I still can’t get over the fact that demons need cell phones.” She stuck her hands in the pockets of her robe and lounged against the futon. “I would’ve thought you’d have more sophisticated communication methods.”

“Very few Paladins have telepathic skills. And on Earth, those skills are somewhat diminished.” He punched in a number and rested his thick body against the floor lamp, dwarfing it. With an irritated growl, he fumbled with the phone. “I don’t care for modern inventions, but they’re an unfortunate necessity.”

“Where would the world be without BlackBerrys?”

Rafe snorted. “BlackBerry? Is that what it’s called? There’s nothing sweet nor juicy about it at all.”

She snickered at Rafe’s attempt at a joke. Not a very good one, but she still gave him props for effort. “Yeah, I never knew why they called it that.”

After several attempts, Rafe blew a satisfied breath of air and put the phone to his ear. “Kalli. Have a katana sent here for Lucy.” In a second, his lighthearted tone flip-flopped to his customary stick-up-his-ass one. At least it wasn’t directed at her right now. Her heart skipped more than a few beats. She had it bad for him.

“We’re fine. Her mother—and father—are safe.”

Pacing the length of her living room, he shook his head. “We don’t have time to explain, just have the weapon ready.” As soon as the last word was out, he slammed his finger down on the end button. Stuffing the phone back into his jacket pocket, he gazed down at her. “You’ll have your sword soon.”

“Thanks, Rafe.” She slinked toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Brushing her lips across his cheek, she laced her fingers through his hair.

Lifting her chin with his thumb and forefinger, he shook his head. “No. Thank you, Lucy.” He brushed his lips against hers, taking slow tentative strokes. Sparks ignited between them, and she pressed closer. With a slow swirl, her tongue traced each spark. The mixture of their energy and the delicious peppermint spice sent her libido back into uncharted heights.

His hands roved across the silky lengths of her kimono to massage her ass. His hands moved with precision down her thighs. His desire, hard and heavy, pressed against his jeans as he ground his hips into hers. Her mind wandered back to the bedroom, where less than five minutes after they finished, he was up and ready to go again. This was all new to her, but undoubtedly welcome. The times she’d tried to initiate some post-coital coitus with Josh, he’d simply roll away and say he was too tired. Ugh! Talk about frustrating.

“Wow,” she managed to breathe his lips. Allowing her fingertips to trace along each contour of his sculpted pecs, she latched onto his lip and nibbled. Her fingers wandered lower, not that they needed much prompting, and scratched a path down the hard lines of his abdomen. Time to take those pants off again.

Then her phone rang.

“Bloody hell,” Rafe growled. “Your phone couldn’t have rung at a more inopportune time.” Raking a hand through his hair, he pulled himself from their embrace.

An irritated growl escaped her mouth. “I suppose I should get that. Demon infestation and all.”