Shadowglass - The Shadowfae Chronicles Part 3

My nerves twitched to wriggle off him and run. I knew he'd compelled me. I knew I didn't normally act like this. My common sense smothered me, cloggy like glue, and for a moment I inhaled it and choked for air. But my instinct for fun squirmed like a wet worm to be free, and longing bubbled inside me, melting my ice-walled fear.

A s.e.xy, powerful demon didn't pick me up every day. No one picked me up most of the time, and part of me wanted everyone to see this. I wanted to show Azure she wasn't the only one who attracted cla.s.sy guys. I wanted Blaze to see I didn't live for his sparkle-drenched come-ons, and I wanted Indigo to know that just because I wasn't good enough for him didn't mean everyone else thought I was a waste of s.p.a.ce.

And Kane was a gang lord from h.e.l.l, not a fairyslasher or a murderer. So long as I kept my mouth shut and didn't do anything stupid, everything would be okay. Right?

Besides, if I didn't get laid soon, I'd probably melt.

"Change my mind? No way, beautiful." I fluttered and slid my hands underneath me to get at him. No one would mind if we screwed right here. Enough people were doing it on the couches and the dance floor. Besides, this guy owned the world. He could do whatever he wanted, and he wanted to do me.

My pulse surged, flattered, and my bruised heart swelled. So there, Indigo. Tell me I'm not good enough now. So there, Indigo. Tell me I'm not good enough now.

I parted damp black cloth, and his smooth hard flesh sizzled on my palm. I shivered, dripping all over with sweat and watery desire. Oh, yeah. Gimme that, hot and hard and deep. Oh, yeah. Gimme that, hot and hard and deep.

But Kane dragged my hand away. "No. My turn. Tell me if you like it." He wrapped one arm around my hips so I couldn't move, and slid sharp fingers beneath my underwear.

His fingertip slid along my wet flesh, searching. Hot relief washed me, and sensation took root, spreading, intensifying into pleasure that worked through my muscles deep into my bones. I sighed, shifting to let him in. He stroked me, circling my entrance with a teasing finger-nail, and then unerringly found my most sensitive spot and tortured it.

I gasped at exquisite pressure, my flesh swelling hard under his touch. He caressed the perfect spot, so accurate, it was spooky. Sensation scalded like boiling water, so good, I groaned. He pressed harder, faster. Tension coiled hard inside me, a sharp delicious ache that only hurt worse and felt better. I couldn't breathe. I was trapped. My water gushed, soaking his clever hand to the wrist, and a too-abrupt o.r.g.a.s.m crashed into my belly like a waterfall. I gasped and clutched at his hair, my wings jerking.

When the pressure subsided, I caught my breath with a sigh. Wow. That was . . . mechanical. Unpleasant. Humiliating. I wanted to do it again right away.

"Tell me if you liked it." Kane tickled me with a sharp claw.

My muscles spasmed again, and I pushed his fingers away with a breathless giggle. I was so taking him home. "Gimme a moment. Why d'ya keep asking that? Bruised ego?"

He just stared, and crushed my hand in his, licking his lips. "Maybe she lied. Tell me."

My happy heart deflated, just by a whisper. Did his girlfriend dump him? Did she fake it? Tell him he's a s.h.i.tty lover? Maybe he doesn't really think I'm s.e.xy. Maybe I'm just a revenge s.h.a.g.

The idea gave me shivers all over again. Well, so's he, kinda. And why the h.e.l.l not? He's attractive, willing, and talented. I'm h.o.r.n.y. Who cares? Screw sensible, remember?

Let's be reckless, whispered Blaze in my memory, and relief spiked hard that he hadn't waited a few more hours to hit on me.

I swallowed, uncomfortable sympathy buzzing my blood. "If you're asking if that felt good, honey, the answer's f.u.c.k yes. Feel my pulse, I'm still shakin' here. That ain't vodka all over your hand. Whatever she told you, you're a real hot s.h.a.g, okay?"

"She said she liked it." A crease tainted his handsome brow, and his hot black eyes clouded sky blue.

My pulse rippled. No, you don't, cutie. Too late to back off now. No way are we losing this mood over some absent demon-tricking o.r.g.a.s.m-faking screw-with-your-mind b.i.t.c.h. She isn't here. I am. No, you don't, cutie. Too late to back off now. No way are we losing this mood over some absent demon-tricking o.r.g.a.s.m-faking screw-with-your-mind b.i.t.c.h. She isn't here. I am.

I trailed suggestive fingers into his lap, where he'd by no means lost that impressive hard-on. I stroked, and he closed his eyes, ash dusting his pretty golden lashes. I leaned forward to whisper in his ear and flexed my legs around him, flicking out my wings in a puff of yellow dust so I wouldn't fall. "Everything feels just fine to me. But maybe I'd better check you out properly just to make sure. Y'know, see where it fits and all. Make sure it tastes right." I nuzzled his throat, his stormy scent breaking b.u.mps out on my scalp. "Wanna go somewhere and give it a try? I promise not to fake it . . . if you'll promise I won't need to."

Shiver. Did I just deal with a demon?

Too late. He fingered my nipple, teasing, stabbing antic.i.p.ation deep into my body, and when he opened his eyes, they glinted black and hard once more. "You'll tell me if you like it."

He pinched, and pleasure spiked harder. I arched to press my breast into his hand, searching for more, delight and pride warming my skin along with desire. Ice, you've done okay. Ice, you've done okay. "Honey, if you do it right, you'll hear all about it." "Honey, if you do it right, you'll hear all about it."

The mezzanine, green neon smoke glowing. Needle freaks and sparkle sniffers sprawl on the rippled steel floor, lost in chemical contentment or rage. In the corner, a skinny girl sprawls on her back, crooning in pleasure as a pair of vampire boys feed, one at her naked breast, the other between her legs, her skirt scrunched high. Next to her, a drooling black spriggan crouches and slams his misshapen head into the wall, over and over, violet blood smearing. People dance, drink, screw, pa.s.s out, and at the pitted steel railing, a razor-nerved fairy named Ebony stretches tense dark arms in the urgent thud of ba.s.s.

The sultry air swims on his skin, delicious. The familiar smells wash over him, sweat and fresh l.u.s.t and the rich iron honey of blood, creamy longing, dusty loneliness, the sharp salt of fury and bitter oblivion. His pale wings spread, twitched by his speeding pulse. What a beautiful night to be alive.

He stretches again, blood rippling warm and alive in his limbs, and leans over the rail to hunt.

Below, where dancers throng and strobe lights crack the air like gla.s.s, the yellow fairy girl flirts on a jealous demon lord's lap, her gasps as he pleasures her inaudible from here but beautiful.

"Ice." The sibilant tingles Ebony's tongue, pleasant. Her skin would do the same. The clumsy one, always falling over her own feet and biting her tongue on careless words. Indigo's girl, if you ask anyone but Indigo. Poor frightened thing, always so serious. More charming when she's drunk and carefree.

He's watched her dance with her toxic friends, blush and fidget under Indigo's glance, pour pink poison down her throat to steel her nerves. He feels for her, this frightened girl. He knows what it's like to dread the gaze of others, their accusations, their contempt. And now she's squirming breathless on a demon's lap with no thought or care. Beautiful, unfettered thing.

The demon lord tucks her hand in his elbow and walks her away, and Ebony giggles, imagining Indigo's envy. He knows Indigo well, after so many years, and Indigo's too f.u.c.king stubborn and cowardly to admit he wants her. Ebony wouldn't be so circ.u.mspect.

Courage, yellow girl. Stretch for the stars. That rusty blue thief isn't worth your sweet pity, not yet. Once Eb's finished with him, he'll be a new man and we'll see who's clumsy then.

But for now, Ebony's itchy inside, that nasty squirming hunger that must be fed. Emptiness must be filled. Itches must be scratched. Another thing Indigo doesn't understand, and Indy's so f.u.c.king itchy, his skin bleeds.

Ebony flutters down the metal steps, lighting on the floor eight feet below with a magnetic snap. A human girl stares, starved bruises ringing her gla.s.sy eyes. She stuffs a split hank of black hair in her mouth and chews. "How'd you do that?"

He catalogs her, eager but cautious. Thin, dusty black dress hanging from bony shoulders, cheeks hollow, lips cracked, wristbones prominent under stretched skin where fresh scars crisscross old. His pulse twinkles. Delicately, he inhales. Sickness, twisting like starved tissue. Hatred. Despair. No fear. His blood swells with that familiar desire, and he smiles at her and lets his glamour flicker to dazzle her with what he really looks like. "Easy. I can do magic."

Pupils dilate in tired blue irises, and she licks dry lips, fixated. "Wish I could do magic. I'd magic myself right the f.u.c.k out of here."

He drifts closer, the updraft heated by longing, and slides a hot knuckle under her chin. So tight and shiny, her skin, so vulnerable. "I'll magic you away, if you like."

Her eyes brighten, hope shining dully like reflected starlight. She doesn't move, doesn't shrink away. She knows. She wants this. "Yeah? Where to?"

"Wherever you imagine." He sniffs her lips, the chlorine taste of starvation and vomit. Perfect.

She swallows. "Will it hurt?"

"Only if you want it to." A lie. He's in control. This will happen the way he he wants it to. No, the way he needs it to. Wanting is insignificant. This is a compulsion. A gravity-scale inevitability. wants it to. No, the way he needs it to. Wanting is insignificant. This is a compulsion. A gravity-scale inevitability.

He captures her hand and pulls her with him, and they weave between fights and sweating couples and giggling drug-sharing fae toward the alloy-barred fire exit.

The grimy back alley stinks of garbage and sour meat, the air shimmering with imminent rain. Under a glowing midnight sky, he pulls her into his arms against the garbage skip and traps her there, her damp hair plastering to the metal. Her body feels broken and sore against him, like a worn-out doll. He sniffs her sunken face, brushes his mouth across her pin-pierced earlobe, and his skin sparks with electric antic.i.p.ation. Soon, they'll be together. He'll make sure she never leaves. "Say yes."

"Yes." Unerring. Unafraid. Perfect.

"Good girl." He nibbles at her lips, and when she doesn't struggle, he cups her head in one hand and opens her for a kiss. Her delicious groan slides over his tongue, and he wriggles his thigh in between her legs, ready.

She misunderstands, fumbling cold fingers into his lap. He's hard, but it's not for the reason she thinks. He drifts his hand down the back of her neck, pressing to find the bones, sliding his palm over the ridges. They feel good, k.n.o.bbly and fragile like china. The base of her skull is cool against his thumb, smooth and round, her ripped hair rough.

He tightens his grip, sharp claws slicing her skin. He jerks his wrist, hard, and simultaneously clips her under the chin with the sharp heel of his other hand.

Snap.

He pulls back to watch, holding her with his thigh. She's not dead. Panic flowers her rolling pupils and slackens her cheeks, and shock fills her mouth with drool. Her fingers jerk uselessly. Paralyzed.

The knowledge hits her, and she screams, high and breathy like dust, the only cry she can manage. No one will hear.

His pulse stings with pleasure at the hoa.r.s.e sound, and his erection swells tight and sore. Not long now. "Nearly there, sweet. Don't cry." Tenderly, he fingers tears from her lashes and licks them to taste her salty sorrow. He searches with his thumb for the pulse in her throat.

Her eyes widen, bloodshot. She tries to croak out words. "No . . . changed . . . my mind . . . stop it. . . ."

But she can't move. Can't escape. Can't break his heart with lies and cruel laughter. He pierces her with his steely claw, and twists. Blood runs, warm and alive on his hand, down his arm, sparkling thickly all over his skin. It feels good.

She screams again in rage and denial, thrashing her head back and forth, but the blood only squirts harder from the gash in her throat. Such a little thing, moving her hand to close the wound.

Ebony grabs her hair to hold her head still and sniffs, reveling in the rank stink of fright. "Hush. It'll take a minute or two. Enjoy it. It's what you wanted."

Blood spills faster, darker, plopping on the ground like thin ketchup. Her terror-wide pupils glaze over as she realizes she's dying, and urgency hitches Ebony's breath. "Come on, sweet. Give in for me."

Her jaw jerks, quivering her blanched lips. He waits with shaking limbs for the surrender that means she's his forever. Then her face slackens, and release rips through him. Molten heat, sharp in his guts like an iron spike, dragging stinging liquid from him along with his groan. His heart overflows with fondness and desperate relief. He clutches his lover close, slicking his cheek in her precious blood, but it's fleeting, this connection they have, after only a brief second it's gone, and he whines in desolation and scrabbles his claws through her hair, but by the time he's finished, she's dead.

4.

I laid my cheek against the damp creamy sheet and let my arm dangle over the edge. My fingerpads trailed over pale carpet, my stolen diamonds glittering in golden downlights. Across the bedroom the window lay open, warm fruity breeze from some dark garden caressing my back. I tried to breathe slowly, but it hurt deep inside. My wings ached from too much water, and I let them drape over my back like limp cloth. My lips stung, abused. I licked them, bitter ash still fresh. A horrid taste, but I liked it. laid my cheek against the damp creamy sheet and let my arm dangle over the edge. My fingerpads trailed over pale carpet, my stolen diamonds glittering in golden downlights. Across the bedroom the window lay open, warm fruity breeze from some dark garden caressing my back. I tried to breathe slowly, but it hurt deep inside. My wings ached from too much water, and I let them drape over my back like limp cloth. My lips stung, abused. I licked them, bitter ash still fresh. A horrid taste, but I liked it.

I giggled, still drunk, weary pleasure echoing deep inside me. Screwed senseless by a demon lord. Wait till I tell Azure and Blaze. They'll never believe it. I still don't believe it. Screwed senseless by a demon lord. Wait till I tell Azure and Blaze. They'll never believe it. I still don't believe it.

Kane trailed a gentle finger down my spine, and my sated hormones rippled, still warm. Purr. If I rolled over, he'd kiss me, coax me, make me gasp again. Fatigue didn't seem to be an issue, at least not for him. "Mmm. Honey, it's gotta be five in the morning. Don't you ever need sleep?"

"No." He followed his finger with his lips, and I shivered as he kissed the small of my back and moved lower.

Okay, stupid question. Just another weird thing about him. The longer I stayed here, the more my skin wriggled underneath like a cold eel.

He'd kept his promise, at least. We'd done it in his car, up against the front door, and over the sofa in the lounge before we'd even made it to his bedroom. I'd lost count of how many times I'd come, and every time it happened, I disliked him a little more.

It wasn't that he humiliated me, as some guys had. He wasn't one of those people who beat up on fairies to make himself feel good. I'd asked him to use protection-you just never knew-and he hadn't minded. But even when he came inside me, he was distant and calculating, like he wasn't really there. Like he'd studied a book to learn what to do, how to feel.

He nuzzled my thighs apart, and licked. Mmm. Fresh fluid oozed from me, making my glands ache. His burning tongue slipped deeper. Squirmy pleasure glazed my senses, and my claws dug into the carpet. Sorry, honey, but your mystery girl's right. Something's wrong with you. Sorry, honey, but your mystery girl's right. Something's wrong with you.

But what you're doing sure feels good. I tucked my limp wings back and rolled over, flexing my tired thigh around his neck. He slid my folds apart with his fingers and delved his tongue inside me, and once again unease pounded my flesh even as my pleasure swelled under his skillful stroking. I tucked my limp wings back and rolled over, flexing my tired thigh around his neck. He slid my folds apart with his fingers and delved his tongue inside me, and once again unease pounded my flesh even as my pleasure swelled under his skillful stroking.

Don't be stupid, Ice. Just enjoy it, so you can feel good about yourself next time Indigo brushes you off.

I closed my eyes to concentrate on the sensation. My flesh stung raw under his tongue, sc.r.a.ped clean with friction, my nerves sparking to life. He sucked me, just hard enough, and I whimpered at the rising cramp of delight in my belly. He did it exactly the same way as last time, like he'd memorized my every sigh, each twitch of my limbs.

Creepy. I grabbed his crisp golden hair, pulling him onto me, trying to make him shift, twist, change his angle, take his time, do it my way instead of the fastest way.

He just sucked my c.l.i.t into his mouth and bit. Pleasure sc.r.a.ped me raw, each spasm wringing hard, but he didn't let go. I gasped, my vision blurring. d.a.m.n it.

Dimly, I heard his phone ring, a gloomy church organ tone. He barely let me finish before he wriggled off me to pluck the handset from the floor. He glared at the screen, black eyes shining, and sighed as he picked up. "Angelo."

Downlights gloated over his perfect skin as he leaned on one elbow, golden light teasing his elegant flank. I panted, damp and sore. I wanted to touch him, run my fingers along that smooth thigh, taste the curve of his back. He'd only repeat himself again. It didn't stop me wanting it.

He rolled onto his back, golden hair tumbling on the sheets. His body shone, sweat glistening on perfectly proportioned muscles. No scars. No blemishes. Eerily beautiful, this demon lord. You could fall for him too easily. Whoever this girl of his was, I hoped for her sake she'd gotten out in time. "Not until I get there, Angelo. Can you contain yourself until then?"

Wow. My very own brush with celebrity. Ange Valenti on the phone, Sonny's boss, the scariest vampire in Melbourne after Dante DiLuca. I flopped onto the pillow, my limbs weak and watery. Kane didn't sound p.i.s.sed off. Not even mildly miffed that we'd been interrupted. Just exasperated that the caller wasn't someone more interesting.

He truly had no clue. No wonder his girlfriend gave up on him.

Sympathy twinged, and the urge to sit him down and explain tickled my spine. But how do you explain emotion or sentiment to someone who has none?

An evil little grin curled his rosy lips. "Good. I like it when DiLucas bleed. Oh, and call Rajahni Seth, get him to clean up the mess. Tell him I said I'm not sorry." And he hung up, and dropped the phone to the floor.

I stretched, still uncomfortably pleasured. "Kids not playing nice?"

He rose, tossing his hair into place, and flicked me an empty black glance. "Don't steal anything." And he padded across creamy carpet to the bathroom.

Water rushed, flooding the room with steam's sweet scent. Disappointment washed my skin with cool b.u.mps. I'd hoped he'd at least f.u.c.k me again before he left. Briefly I considered creeping into the shower with him, and my nerves tingled. All that hot water gushing over me, running his scent over my skin, splashing my wings and flooding in my hair as I knelt and nibbled his thigh and slid him into my mouth, all charcoal and ashen sweat and smooth hard flesh . . .

My taste buds twinged, and reluctantly I swallowed greedy spit. Best not to push my luck with a guy who can send me to h.e.l.l with one soft golden blink.

I clambered off the bed, my joints creaking, and flicked my wings open to dry them as I wiped myself clean on the sheet. The soft linen scoured the tender flesh between my legs, and I winced and gave up.

I couldn't see my skirt and tank top, and I wandered naked into the dawn-lit lounge before I found them, little blue pools on the floor beside his crumpled white shirt. Pink stains still showed, crusty now. I shook the creases out and dragged the clothes back on over damp skin, tugging the straps around my wings and fastening them tight. My underwear wasn't in evidence. Waste of s.p.a.ce anyway.

I glanced around, thieves' habit. Didn't take much notice the first time, what with his tongue wrapped on mine and his hand up my skirt and all. Don't steal anything, he said. Hah. Like I'd want any of this stuff. Big modern town house, expensive white furniture, dull oil paintings, a vase or two. Vast creamy walls that made me long for spray paint. Gleaming wooden floor great for skidding on. Nice big TV for Blaze to smash.

Kane might have a sinister reputation, but his house was dead boring. Wherever he kept his golden demon treasure and screaming minions and rusty h.e.l.lcursed loot, it wasn't here.

My bag puddled on the floor, and I slung the strap over my head, checking to make sure my phone hadn't fallen out. A drunken text from Blaze. YUFR MIZLE DRIPT! IIEEE!! YUFR MIZLE DRIPT! IIEEE!! I kept it, to taunt him with later. Another from Azure, neat and sober, an address in the city. She always does that, in case she doesn't come back. And I'm supposed to be the sensible one. I don't even know what suburb I'm in. The old fear twinged my nerves, and I stamped on it. He hadn't hurt me yet. I'd find my way home, right? I'd be okay. I kept it, to taunt him with later. Another from Azure, neat and sober, an address in the city. She always does that, in case she doesn't come back. And I'm supposed to be the sensible one. I don't even know what suburb I'm in. The old fear twinged my nerves, and I stamped on it. He hadn't hurt me yet. I'd find my way home, right? I'd be okay.

Swiftly I retrieved Kane's silken jacket from the couch, his stormy scent an unpleasantly pleasant memory. I felt the pockets for cash, and my claws sc.r.a.ped rusty metal.

Indigo's score.

Curiosity spidered over my skin, and with a swift glance over my shoulder, I tugged the sphere out.

Warm velvet steel tingled my palm. It curved seductively, the ridges sharp and tantalizing. I tilted it to the light, and something tumbled inside, like a squidgy and fascinating creature lived in there.

Ooh. A toy. My skin tingled, covetous.

"h.e.l.lo, squidgy thing." I rolled it in my palm, delight twitching my wings. The thing inside wriggled again, tickling me, and I swear it giggled as the sphere lurched and spilled from my hand.

My heart tilted. I scrabbled wildly for it, and sharp iron petals scythed open in my palm.

Inside, gripped tight by tiny metal claws, a mirror gleamed. Silvery and perfect. Shiny.

I stared. The metal hummed seductively in my hand. My pulse bubbled, and something hot and slick, reminiscent of Kane's tongue, stroked between my legs, pleasuring me. Mmm. Did I mention shiny was my weakness?

I wanted to look. I had to look. My nerves squirmed, and I sniffed over my shoulder once more. Ashen steam, the thick smell of s.e.x and wet demon flesh. Kane was still in the shower. No one would ever know.