Demon From The Dark Part 19

His reactions to her were so intense, he truly was like a giant battery for her.

Feeding her from his hand? Made him happy. Waking up next to her? He always looked vaguely surprised that she was there. Then his face would relax into that self-satisfied expression, and his happiness would flood over her like a warm blanket.

Watching her bathe? Made him ecstatic.

He'd joined her every time. Any lingering hesitation about getting in the water was dwindling. He loved to bathe her just as she had him, still learning her body as curiosity lit his eyes. She'd let him examine her freely, glad to give him at least that.

At night, as they lay together on his pallet-no need for a second one after all-he pulled her close, enveloping her in his warm arms, pressing her against his chest. The first two nights he'd slept with her collar clutched in his hand. But now he'd begun to accept that she wasn't going anywhere. At least not yet, At least not yet, her mind whispered. her mind whispered.

During the days, they ate the phickens and some rock-hard type of tart berry. Just yesterday, she'd gotten him to use a napkin and some plasticware from the packs. Now we're getting somewhere, Now we're getting somewhere, she'd thought. Until that same afternoon when he'd drunk blood from a bird's neck again. She'd sighed. she'd thought. Until that same afternoon when he'd drunk blood from a bird's neck again. She'd sighed. Rome wasn't built in a day. Rome wasn't built in a day.

In one of the packs, she'd found clothes for him-black combat boots to fit his big feet, camo pants that actually hit his ankles, and a black T-shirt that could stretch over his brawny chest. Apparently, Hostoffersson had been an immense b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Malkom rocked rocked the tacticool. With his golden hair in those warrior plaits, his firm lips and chiseled features, he'd made her heart thump. She'd thought, the tacticool. With his golden hair in those warrior plaits, his firm lips and chiseled features, he'd made her heart thump. She'd thought, I'd have to pry witches off him. I'd have to pry witches off him.

Now she gazed over at him writing F-o F-o...

Was she really considering keeping him? As if he'd want her after she betrayed him. In any event, she had no place for him in her world.

He'd be like a bull in a china shop, and her life was already about to change radically because of Ruby.

Hey, from what she'd seen of Oblivion, the Order's facility would be a lateral move for him. Maybe if she told herself that often enough, one day she'd believe it?

He glanced at her then, as though he sensed the serious nature of her thoughts, and she swallowed.

She'd begun to desire all all of him, fantasizing about making love with him. But two things held her back. He could get her pregnant, and he might hurt her, possibly biting her again. of him, fantasizing about making love with him. But two things held her back. He could get her pregnant, and he might hurt her, possibly biting her again.

He'd been working on maintaining his control and was making such strides that she no longer feared when his eyes turned black, now a.s.sociating the color with his desire. Steady blue flickering to wicked black. Steady blue flickering to wicked black.

But could he maintain control when they had s.e.x?

Merely to cohabit with such a strong being took care on her part, and she'd been using magic just to lessen the risk of an accidental injury. Yet for their "claiming," she would have to surrender herself fully to him, trusting him not to hurt her. She didn't know if she could take that leap of faith.

And of course, there was still the issue of his biting. So far she didn't think he'd dreamed her memories, not that he could have revealed that development with words-or miming-anyway. Yet every time he drank her, it increased the likelihood that he would see them.

For her to explain her predicament to him was one thing. But she feared his seeing bits and pieces out of context. Which again would make him lose control.

She knew he wanted to drink her. She'd caught him gazing at her neck, not necessarily with hunger, but almost with yearning.

One night, she'd awakened to find him pacing, running a hand over his mouth. Keeping her breathing deep and even and her lids barely cracked open, she'd watched as his gaze had darted over her, then up to the ceiling, as if he were seeking guidance. With another look at her, he'd raised his arm to his mouth, sinking his fangs into his own wrist, groaning against his skin. Had he been imagining it was her?

He'd bitten himself to keep from breaking his vow to her.

How much longer could a need like that be contained?

Can I keep my vow another night?

Malkom needed to drink her, not because he thirsted for her blood or wanted to "dine on flesh," but because with each hour, she grew more distant.

She was slipping away from him.

Even as she let him enjoy her body, she often appeared lost in thought, closing off her mind. The more she did this, the more he gazed at her neck, craving that connection that had so amazed him.

Now a disquiet had settled over him, and he couldn't concentrate on the letters anymore. He laid down the stick. She didn't even notice as she stared at the fire.

Malkom was so d.a.m.ned accustomed to loss, yet he knew he would never recover if he lost her. To not have her in his keeping? The mere idea sent his rage climbing.

If only he could communicate with her freely. Yet the more he remembered of her language, the more punishing nightmares of his childhood and torture surfaced.

Still he pushed himself, needing to understand. At times, just before he brought her pleasure, she'd murmur at his ear. What was she telling him when her voice was almost sad? It made him crazed.

And he wanted to ask her why why she'd been showing this affection to him. Was it just so he'd protect her? His confidence that she would want the strongest male had now turned to desiring more from her. she'd been showing this affection to him. Was it just so he'd protect her? His confidence that she would want the strongest male had now turned to desiring more from her.

Until they could communicate, he'd decided to learn as much as possible about her. Life with the witch was wondrous ... and odd.

She seemed to have a fixation on cleanliness, scrubbing their eating utensils with her magic and continually washing their clothes.

Each morning and night she'd used the blue stick brush to rub her teeth. She kissed him madly each time he did the same. The scent was sharp but pleasant, and the brushing felt good, as if his mouth were being petted.

He'd stopped swallowing it the second time she'd crinkled her nose and muttered, "Ooh."

And every day, she'd given him writing lessons. He could potentially live for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, and he'd recalled what Kallen had once told him: "Of course you're intelligent enough to read! Who the devil convinced you otherwise?" "Of course you're intelligent enough to read! Who the devil convinced you otherwise?"

Malkom might not be learned now, but he could could be. And whenever Carrow praised his progress or regarded him with undisguised admiration, it brought his mind back to a very brief time, long, long ago, when he'd been proud. He'd commanded armies of demons-and he'd been skilled at it. be. And whenever Carrow praised his progress or regarded him with undisguised admiration, it brought his mind back to a very brief time, long, long ago, when he'd been proud. He'd commanded armies of demons-and he'd been skilled at it.

I'd almost routed the vampires from this plane with battles I'd won.

In the end, Malkom had done it by himself, by himself, a.s.sa.s.sinating the Viceroy so gruesomely that his vampire followers had fled Oblivion in terror. a.s.sa.s.sinating the Viceroy so gruesomely that his vampire followers had fled Oblivion in terror.

Despite this, the Trothans had clamored for Malkom's death. At least now he was giving them reason to....

Though his nightmares had returned with a vengeance, these were occasionally quelled by dreams of her memories, always scenes from her childhood. In each one, she'd been indoors, playing by herself in an echoing building. For years, she'd been alone, miserable.

As I was. It seemed fate had paired Malkom with a woman who was perfect for him. It seemed fate had paired Malkom with a woman who was perfect for him.

Too perfect?

He ruthlessly tamped down his doubts.

Because he not only wanted her. He needed her.

Whenever they kissed and touched, he was able to shut out thoughts of his past. Everything about his sensual new mate kept him firmly-and feverishly-in the present.

The now familiar scent of her arousal, the look in her glittering eyes when she was needing, the way she nibbled her bottom lip whenever her thoughts grew wicked.

The sound of her abandoned moans as he kneaded her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She went wild when he licked them, or her sweet s.e.x. He'd wake her from slumber with his tongue delving hungrily.

The witch had brought him more s.e.xual pleasure in moments than he'd experienced in all his centuries. Her kiss alone ... it made him feel close to her, almost as much as taking her neck had.

Yet Malkom had stopped pushing to claim her. Now he he wanted a bond first, because with all the new possibilities between them, one filled him with fear. wanted a bond first, because with all the new possibilities between them, one filled him with fear.

Begetting another b.a.s.t.a.r.d like himself.

Sometimes he scorned his father more for leaving his son vulnerable than he did his mother for selling hers.

Malkom would never risk the same happening to his own offspring. He intended to wed Carrow at the earliest opportunity- "Demon," she murmured, finally turning to him. "Portal next night?"

Portal. He knew this word. She used it often enough. "Next night," he agreed. She was keen to get back to her home, had explained that they would leave tomorrow at exactly the middle of the night. He knew this word. She used it often enough. "Next night," he agreed. She was keen to get back to her home, had explained that they would leave tomorrow at exactly the middle of the night.

Had he figured out why she was here in Oblivion, or why she believed a portal would open to welcome her back?

No. All he knew was that he was going with her. For now, that was enough.

Chapter 22

T-minus sixteen hours until they were to leave. And Carrow had feelings for the demon she was planning to betray.

In a moment of desperation yesterday, she'd tried to explain her situation to Malkom, to ask for his help-even though he didn't understand the words mortals, blackmail, kidnap, mortals, blackmail, kidnap, or or daughter daughter. Eventually she'd drawn a stick-figure Carrow that held hands with a stick-figure little girl, then she'd pressed her hand over her heart.

He'd thought she wanted a baby. When she'd emphatically signaled that wasn't what she wanted, he'd seemed hurt, yanking on his boots and storming off to go hunt.

Now, this morning, she couldn't pay attention to his lesson, was racking her brain for any alternative to deceiving him. Maybe she should have set out on her second day here to find other demons to help her.

But at that time, Malkom had been so brutal, so incomprehensible to her. Betraying him would've been nothing to her. She'd had no idea she could ever come to care for him.

What would Ripley do? She'd definitely rescue the orphaned girl from the island.

Break down the facts, Carrow. Even if she could communicate with Malkom, revealing her plot would have to decrease her chances of getting him to the portal. He might balk. After all, she'd only known him for the better part of a week. Even if she could communicate with Malkom, revealing her plot would have to decrease her chances of getting him to the portal. He might balk. After all, she'd only known him for the better part of a week.

She decided then that revealing everything was an unacceptable risk.

And even if she were certain he'd do it, she'd never be able to convey all the inherent dangers for him. He'd go into that portal either completely unknowing, or partially so.

Carrow pinched her forehead. For a woman not used to feeling guilt over her actions or fear for someone who depended on her, she felt overwhelmed. Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing the right thing? Most of the time when people were under duress, they could talk to someone, friends or family who could help them make the right choice. Most of the time when people were under duress, they could talk to someone, friends or family who could help them make the right choice.

Carrow was flying blind-in uncharted territory.

"Ara?"

She jerked her face up. "Huh? Where were we?"

But his expression had grown serious, the lesson forgotten. He interlaced his fingers and said, "We are bound."

"Bound?"

He collected a piece of rope, knotting it.

"Oh, you mean bound bound?"

He gave a nod, then drew in the sand.

An infinity symbol? "Clever demon, how did you know that ... ?"

He was gazing at her with a question in his eyes.

"Bound forever?" And somehow she met his gaze and lied, "Yes, demon. Bound forever."

As if to make her feel even guiltier, he gathered her into his arms, cupping her face against his broad chest. His voice a deep rumble, he said, "Carrow is Malkom's."

She wanted to sob.

"Yes?"

"Yes," she answered, wishing that it could be so simple between them. Demon meets girl. Girl might be falling for demon. Demon meets girl. Girl might be falling for demon.

But then, if not for all the treachery she'd gotten caught up in, she would never have come here to find him, never would have known him.

He rested his chin on her head and placed her hand over his heart. It drummed against her palm.

I made that beat. Maybe fate had been right to match them. Somehow between the two of them, they gentled Malkom's rages. She'd brought him happiness. Maybe fate had been right to match them. Somehow between the two of them, they gentled Malkom's rages. She'd brought him happiness. At least for a time At least for a time.

After midnight, Carrow didn't know if he could ever be gentled again.

She drew back, gazing up at his face. What if it could be simple between them, if just for a few hours? One morning spent enjoying each other-fully-with no thoughts of the future?

He'd been so curious about s.e.x, and so patient with her, that she wanted him to have that experience. But if she offered herself to him, she'd have to trust him not to hurt her.

Do I trust him? Can I? She swallowed. "Malkom, I want you to make love to me." She swallowed. "Malkom, I want you to make love to me."

He shrugged.

" s.e.x, s.e.x, demon." demon."

His body shot through with tension. Sharp nod.

"Gentle? Can you not hurt me?" Ah, Hekate, was she actually going to do this? Can you not hurt me?" Ah, Hekate, was she actually going to do this?