The Order Boxed Set (97 page)

Instead, she’d bought a scarlet bikini and a couple of bright cotton dresses. She’d gotten her hair cut off above the shoulder—it had been weighing her down—and she felt light and free and…vaguely disappointed.

She was aware of the days ticking by, and she needed to get on with living before she frittered all her time away. So tonight as the sun went down, she headed out, bucket list in her pocket, and found a bar on the seafront with a terrace that led onto the sand.

Alcohol was banned in the Abyss, a safety measure as demons went crazy on it. Consequently, she’d never drunk before, but it was on the list. So when the handsome waiter approached her, all dark eyes and flirtatious smile, she took a deep breath and ordered the cocktail of the day. Now, she picked up the glass, sniffed the contents. It smelled like nothing she’d ever encountered. She put down the drink and picked up the menu. The main component was tequila. Sounded good. She was procrastinating. There was absolutely no reason for her not to have a drink.

The alcohol would loosen her up a little, help her apply herself to the next few things on her to-do list. She glanced down at the notebook on the table…

Have a drink

Have a few more drinks

Dance all night

Find someone to kiss me for…five minutes, non-stop

Make mad passionate love to some gorgeous stranger

Swim in the ocean in the moonlight

Bungee jump

Make love in the ocean

Ride a horse

Fly…

She could see a trend—she definitely needed a man for most of them. Time to make a start. But something held her back, and she still didn’t pick up the drink. Instead she allowed her gaze to wander around the terrace until it clashed with a man leaning against the bar. He lifted his glass to her, and she studied him. Could he be a contender for the “gorgeous stranger” on her list?

Although he was good looking, he didn’t make her heart beat faster or make her want to crawl inside him and lose herself in his arms. She’d seen the looks that passed between Faith and Asmodai, and she wanted that. All the same, she had to start somewhere, and she forced her lips into a smile. He smiled back and put his beer on the bar. Oh God, he was going to come over. He turned aside to speak to his friends, giving her a moment’s reprieve.

Maybe the alcohol would help. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the drink, put the straw in her mouth, was about to suck, when a hand rested on her arm, gently pushing the glass back down onto the table.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The words were like rough velvet, ruffling her skin, sending prickles down her spine and her heartbeat into overdrive. She didn’t think she’d ever heard the voice before, but it resonated somewhere deep inside her.

Slowly she raised her head to look at the man who stood to the side of her—and her world stopped, her racing heart stuttered, and her mouth fell open.

She might never have heard him before, but she had seen him. Carl, the Order’s Head of Security. Presumably someone had noticed she was gone after all and sent the Order’s policeman to collect her like a piece of mislaid luggage.

But why couldn’t they have sent someone else?
Anyone
else.

She’d seen him occasionally when he’d visited Asmodai’s home on business. He was stunningly gorgeous, with a lean, muscular body that moved with a grace that belied his size, short dark hair, and the most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen. And every time their paths had crossed, he’d looked right through her, like she was invisible.

So what was new?

She’d responded by retreating behind her
I’m-a-total-bitch
facade.

She was aware that werewolves looked down on her kind. Well, most of the supernatural races looked down on hers. And who could blame them, when they had been happy to live in servitude for generations.

Well, no freaking more. Not if she had any say in it.

She tightened her grip on her drink and tried to lift it, but his hand was still firmly on her arm.

“Not a good idea,” he murmured.

“Why?” she asked, ignoring the way her nipples tightened just from his softly spoken words. She tilted her head to look into his face. This close, she could see the little flecks of gold in his eyes and the thick black lashes fringing them.

He shrugged but didn’t answer. “You need to come with me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” His fingers tightened on her arm, and her muscles locked up tight.

She glanced around, searching for some way out, some way to distract him. Her gaze caught on the man at the bar. He raised an eyebrow.

She turned her attention back to Carl and sniffed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I think you are, sweetheart.”

Why did he call her that? She wasn’t his sweetheart. And why did the word start an insistent little pulse between her thighs? She gritted her teeth. “If you try and make me, I’ll scream and cause so much fuss, you’ll wish you’d never met me.”

“I think you’ve wreaked enough havoc already.”

Havoc? What havoc had she ever caused? She was Little Miss Obedience. Why couldn’t they just let her have a few days? “What do you want?”

“To take you back where you belong.”

She stared at her pretty orange and red drink for what seemed like an age. The symbol of her freedom. And she hadn’t even had a sip. Her eyes stung. Her adventure was over before it had even started. There
had
to be a way out of this.

“Come on, Shera. Come home.”

Home?
At his coaxing, her anger rose. She didn’t have a home, just a place where she worked. And she wasn’t going back. She lifted her head and stared into his face. Something flickered across his expression. Alarm? Then it was gone, replaced by resolve.

His gaze wandered over the table, snagged on her notebook. Before she realized what he was doing, he’d picked it up and heat washed through her. His brows lifted as he read her list, then he studied her face, his eyes heavy lidded.

“Never going to happen, kitten. Well, not the first two anyway. Maybe we can take the long route home, and I can see what I can do about number five.”

“You’re not a stranger.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and little flutters started low in her belly. She became conscious of her breasts, pressed tight against the cotton of her dress. “And there I was thinking you’d never noticed me.”

What could she say to that? She was hardly going to tell him she’d followed his every move with hungry eyes. Because she was a sex-starved imbecile who didn’t know any better.

He handed the notebook back to her, picked up her drink, and put it out of reach. What was the big deal? She wasn’t going to turn into a ravening monster from a sip of tequila. This was merely one more way of controlling her. The suffocating bonds wrapped around her at the thought of going back. Everything inside her screamed
no!
Her hand went automatically to the sigil wrapped around her arm as though she could rub it away.

“Come back, Shera. We’ll sort something out.”

His words stoked the feelings of injustice boiling inside her. What could they do? The sigil couldn’t be removed; she’d be a slave forever if she returned. Better to take the consequences. “No,” she snapped. “I won’t be slave any longer. I’d rather be dead.” She took a deep breath, then another, calming herself. “Look, you don’t need to take me back.” She nipped her lower lip with her teeth. “I have gold. I can pay you. Just pretend you never found me.”

“Can’t do that, kitten. There are things you need to know.”

“What things?”

“It’s not my place to tell you. But I have a job to do, and it’s for your own good.”

Patronizing bastard
.

What did he know about what was good for her?

She glanced around. Her new boyfriend at the bar was still watching her. Could she use that? She just needed a diversion. If she could get out of here, she could shift and disappear into the night.

Carl squeezed her arm. “Come on.”

No way.

Deep inside, that new part of her awakened, uncoiled, fueled the fire in her blood. Resolve hardened to steel. She wasn’t some pathetic wimp, good for nothing but serving another. Shaking off his hand, she pushed back her chair with a scrape of metal against tile, and rose to her feet. “Get away from me,” she shouted, loud enough for the whole bar to hear, and she sensed their attention focus on her. She backed away from the table, away from Carl.

“Stay away from me. I’m not going with you.”

He reached for her again, and this time she screamed, shoving all her rage and fury into the sound.

Carl’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “It won’t work,” he murmured.

“It might.”

What did she have to lose? Absolutely fuck-all. She stared around her wildly, forcing a look of terror onto her face. The blond man from the bar was already hurrying over like a white knight to rescue her. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Don’t involve them, Shera.” Carl’s words were a quietly spoken warning.

She ignored him, backing away so she stood beside the other man.

“He…he touched me.”

“You know him?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before. He said he was going to…” She broke off, not able to come up with something bad enough on the spur of the moment. But the implication was enough. Blondie stepped between them. While he was as tall as Carl, he was nowhere near as muscular, though he did have two friends at his back which he obviously believed—wrongly she was sure—would even the match. As he pressed a hand to Carl’s chest, a low growl rumbled in the space between them.

Something changed in the room, and she felt the flicker of magic all around her. Carl’s eyes had gone feral, glowing golden in the dim light. She hoped he wouldn’t hurt her rescuer—she didn’t think he would—he’d be too busy chasing her.

She only needed seconds. Just enough time to get out the door and into the alley that ran alongside the bar. Once there, she could shift and head down the beach. She dared not go back to her villa; she had to presume Carl knew about it, which was a bummer. She’d have to replace everything, but that was a small price to pay, and she still had plenty of gold.

Carl yanked the man’s hand from his chest, but the other two crowded in, blocking his path.

This was it.

She whirled around and ran.

Chapter Three

Carl stared after her, mouth open. How had the little cat got the better of him? He’d never known a shifter capable of standing up for his or herself. But he was hardly dealing with a normal shifter. Could this be some latent power wakening?

He needed to move and fast. She would shift, and he’d never find her. Not in his human form anyway. And this was far from an ideal place for him to change. While Shera’s cat would blend in, his wolf would stand out like a…wolf.

Maybe he should have told her a little of what was at stake. Not the demon stuff—Ash had been adamant about that—but maybe about the demon gold she had stolen and the repercussions of that theft. But he hadn’t expected any opposition. She’d surprised him. She was willing to die rather than live as a slave.

Time to go after her.

He raised his hand, took the other man’s fist in his, crushed it, and shoved him back into his friends. They all fell, crashing into the table behind them. And he was gone.

At the entrance he paused, glanced around. To the side of the building, an alley ran down toward the sea. That’s where she would go to shift. He turned down it, staring into the shadows, but nothing moved. He breathed in, trying to catch her scent. At the end of the alley, something slunk low to the ground, merging with the darkness. It hesitated at the opening onto the street, turned, and he was caught in a bright green glare. Then it was gone, streaking across the sand.

Carl raced after it. “Shera, stop!” He had a hunch she would ignore him, but it was worth a try.

While she was on the beach, he could keep sight of her, but if she headed into the town he would have to track her through the streets and alleys. She could go much faster, and there was a possibility he would lose her.

He changed his direction so he was on the town side, between her and the buildings, and kicked up his speed. He was gaining on her. She glanced back once, and panic flared in her cat’s eyes.

He was almost on her when a faint rumble filled the air around him, and a shiver of magic rippled across the beach. A portal opened right in front of him, and a whole load of demons popped up.

“Shit.” They cut him off from Shera, and he had no choice but to slide to a halt. For a moment he’d thought it might be Ash, but they were strangers, and they looked far from friendly. “Keep going,” he muttered. If Shera kept running, she might still escape them.

He stood with his hands hanging loosely at his side, and it occurred to him that he might not come out of this alive. He’d fought demons before, but never with odds like these. His other option was to shift and try to run for it, but they were already circling him, closing off his escape route, red eyes glowing.

He’d faced death a few times. He lived a violent life, and it was only to be expected that he’d die a violent death. A shiver of regret ran through him, and he looked past the demons to the beach beyond, silvered by moonlight.

The cat streaked across the sand, but glanced back over her shoulder then stopped, standing still at the edge of the sea.

Fucking idiot. What the hell was she doing?

“Run!” he yelled.

Then the first demon leaped toward him, and he was fighting for his life.

…

The heavy scent of sulfur burned in her nostrils.

Shera’s tail twitched as she stared back down the beach, a growl rumbling in her throat. Her cat’s eyes saw clearly in the dim light, but Carl had disappeared, completely surrounded by demons.

Where the hell had they come from? And what did they want?

One demon flew across the sand and another took his place. Carl was fighting hard, but no way could he win against so many.

But it wasn’t her problem.