Shadowglass - The Shadowfae Chronicles Part 9

"Just leave me alone, okay?" I yanked free and squirmed through the crowd away from him, his sharp blue gaze scorching my back. I hid behind a tangle of sparkly fairy bodies and held my breath. He didn't follow.

After a moment, I sighed and let my eyes drift closed again, enjoying the rainbow smell of body moisture and the shuddering sway that the music thrust into my body.

I stretched my arms over my head in sultry smoke, content. I missed the warm tinkle of diamonds on my wrists, but that was okay. There'd always be more diamonds, and I never got to keep them anyway. I was just the messenger, a little fae insect in a gangsters' world. Diamonds were for Kane and Sonny Valenti and handsome blue a.s.sholes with no manners. But there'd always be more.

"That guy bothering you, sweet?"

"Only as much as y-Oh, it's you. Hi." I squinted in a jumping haze of strobe lights. Tumbling black-dyed hair, pencil-smeared lashes, a sapphire twinkle in his purple brow. Vampire lover boy, he of the delicious kiss and the collarbone fetish. I never did get his name.

He tickled a kiss over the back of my hand, deft fingers cold as his lips. He looked paler tonight, and his blue eyes gleamed gla.s.sy with starvation. "I dreamed about you."

"Great. Glad to be of service. Hope you enjoyed it." Hungry vampire. Definitely not my type. Maybe if I pretended he wasn't there, he'd leave me alone.

But he spun me around and pulled me close, crushing my wings against his chest. Nice body, slim and lean, ripped jeans rough against my bare hip. His sharp chin dug into my shoulder as he nuzzled my wing out of the way. "I dreamed about tasting you."

Nice hard-on denting my a.s.s, too. His breath moistened my neck in the hot smell of bourbon, and I shivered. Drunk, starving, h.o.r.n.y vampire. Not good. "Baby, we had this conversation the other n-Hey, I never said you could put your hand there."

He stroked my half-covered breast, teasing gentle nails under the fabric, and his hot tongue slicked the ticklish point of my ear. "You didn't mind a bit of initiative last time."

"Well, I d-Mmm." His claw spiked my nipple, and shock crept tingling roots deep into my breast. My flesh hardened for his finger, and he pinched me, delightful. Recklessness flared in my blood. "Oops. Well, I suppose you can . . . Ooh." He swept kisses down my neck, cold lips but hot tongue, and nuzzled my dress strap aside to delve into the hollow behind my collarbone.

"Whoa." My knees melted, and slick warmth spread between my legs. His inky black hair rubbed on my shoulder, and shivers curled down my chest as he sucked that collarbone with a tiny sting of fang, just how I liked it. "Mmm. This kinda wasn't my plan, you know. . . ."

"Wasn't mine till I saw you." His voice grated, l.u.s.tful vibrations tingling my ribs. "You look so f.u.c.king h.o.r.n.y in this dress, and the way you dance makes me wanna slide into you right here."

"Uh-huh. Vampire sweet talk. You don't just mean your d.i.c.k, do you?" I exhaled, delicate, aroused and disgusted at the same time. Fear piqued my pleasure. I knew I should push him off, get away before he hurt me. But . . . On tonight's special-crazy Icyspice scale of hot to scorching, he rated a definite screw me now screw me now. And flirting with danger was kinda fun, wasn't it? My heart raced, my skin shone damp and hot, and a needy ache brewed inside me that longed to be stroked. Couldn't hurt to have a little fun, could it?

"Honey, you can have everything I've got." He dragged me against him and crept his fingers over my hip and under my stretchy skirt.

Okay, so no underwear was a bad idea. Or a good one. My insides twitched in antic.i.p.ation. What would it feel like, a vampire's bite? Good, maybe?

His fingertip brushed my exposed flesh. I shivered in delight, and he groaned and burrowed his finger deeper. "So wet."

Why, so I was. I giggled, mad. "Water sprite, genius. I'm always wet."

"Liar." He grazed my shoulder with hungry teeth as he stroked me, light as a whisper.

"Mmm. Maybe." Nerves tightened inside me, curious and pleasured. Tempted. The risk of infection was supposed to be small. And what else did I have to do tonight? Let's see. Nothing. Just like tomorrow night, and the night after, and the night after that.

My fear scratched at me like desperate claws, but I brushed it aside.

He snarled softly. "Don't tease me. You want it or not?"

"Why the h.e.l.l not? Yeah. Wanna do it here? You can, if you want." I leaned back into him with a sigh, thrusting my hips forward to meet his hand. His body moved sensually against my back, and pleasure stirred in my guts. How would it feel, his fanged mouth on my s.e.x?

He crushed me tighter, effortlessly strong. My pulse quivered, wary, but too late. Nerveless. Breathless. I couldn't pull away. I wriggled, but he tightened his arm to force me still. His razor tooth sliced along my collarbone, and the sting hurt more than I'd expected or wanted. Alarm jump-started my pulse with a jerk. Blood seeped, warm on my skin, and he laughed, his fingers curling between my legs. "Honey, I'll do it wherever the f.u.c.k I like."

And in one simultaneous movement, he pushed his finger deep inside me and forced hungry fangs into the skin of my neck.

Pleasure and pain, meeting in the middle. I gasped, delirious, as my vein popped and sticky warmth spilled, caught by his waiting mouth. My skin stretched, tore, ripped open under his tongue and teeth. A horrid cramp stabbed down the side of my neck, and my wing jerked, my shoulder convulsing in agony.

Yet inside me, flesh hardened as he stroked, pleasure flooding to my center. He found my nipple and pinched it, and my c.l.i.t pulsed despite the ripping pain. He sucked, thrusting his finger inside me in time, and the sensation of blood dragging out of me as he forced inside started cramps of deep pleasure inside my s.e.x that fought back the pain. I wanted to talk, to tell him not to stop, but my throat had seized with the ache and the shock, and all I could do was groan.

He sucked harder, dizzying, and pushed his fingers deeper into my willing flesh. My head swam, drunk. The thudding music faded, distant, hiding behind the inescapable thrust of my pulse. His body tensed against my back, mirroring my own reaction as my excitement grew. My wings twitched against him, tight and sore. His c.o.c.k swelled, hard like gla.s.s in the cleft of my a.s.s, and I wanted to purr. If he'd lifted my skirt and buried himself deep, I couldn't have cared less.

This monster was swallowing my blood. It hurt like poison. I didn't care. I just wanted the sensation, here and now. Not tomorrow or consequences or cost. Just now. Me and him, this rapturous agony that made me feel alive.

Abruptly, his teeth ripped from my flesh, stinging hard. Blood splashed my dress, shimmering silver in naked strobe lights. I blinked, groggy. "Huh? What?"

His hand slipped from me, leaving me hot and empty. "f.u.c.k. Sorry, man. Didn't know she was one of yours. No disrespect." And he slurped and melted away from me.

Dizziness dissolved my thoughts to mush. I realized that bodies no longer crushed around me, that a distinct s.p.a.ce separated me from the crowd on all sides. Either my dancing had scared everyone off, or . . .

Icy fingers fastened around my wrist, and too late I smelled storm clouds.

Hard demon body, cold against my back where the vampire had grown so wonderfully warm. b.u.mps tweaked my skin, and I shivered, dismayed. His h.e.l.lweird voice quivered my eardrums, soft yet audible in the din. "You've something that belongs to me, strawberry girl."

Rust-stained gla.s.s flashed and jolted in my memory. I tried to yank away, knowing my strength was useless. But he let me go, and I spun around, off balance, jerking my wings to hold me upright. "What did you go and do that for? I mean, nice knowing you and everything, but-"

"You're welcome." Kane stared at me, beautiful and impa.s.sive as ever, and stretched out an elegant finger to wipe blue blood from the gash in my throat.

I squirmed under his black gaze. His cold finger on my raw flesh was more than I wanted of him. "I'm sorry, did I misunderstand? Didn't you just p.i.s.s me off?"

"For keeping you alive." As if I hadn't spoken. "You don't really want to die, Ice. You're just bored."

"Whatever. Just leave me alone, okay?" Dizziness swirled pleasantly in my skull, and I laughed, light-headed. I felt gla.s.sy and bright inside, like I'd polished myself. Twenty bucks got me a better high than I'd antic.i.p.ated.

He rubbed my blood between his fingertips, watching it sparkle in smoky rainbow lights, and smiled. "Looked into my gla.s.s, didn't you?"

"Dunno what you're on about." But hot anxious fingers sc.r.a.ped in my guts, and I wiped my bleeding neck. It wouldn't stop. I wiped it again, smearing my palm with warm inky wetness. So much blood. Not counting what had ended up in sweetheart's mouth.

My pulse cracked into a gallop, and my newfound courage fizzed away like snowflakes. Hot terror flooded my skin. f.u.c.k. He drank my blood. My f.u.c.king blood. He could have infected me. I could have died. What the h.e.l.l was I thinking? Nausea dripped down my throat, and I stumbled, my high heels sc.r.a.ping my ankles raw.

Kane caught me, freshly sharp claws cruel on my elbow. He dragged ash-coated lips to my ear, his voice grating like razors. "You took my mirror. Where is it?"

Blue sparks showered from his hair, and ash crackled hot on the tops of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, smearing in blood and sweat. Smoke wisped. My skin wriggled in disgust. I wanted it off, but I didn't dare wipe it away. I gulped, my lungs tight. "Dunno. Got rid of it. Nasty thing."

"You can't get rid of my mirror, Ice. It gets rid of you."

My stomach sloshed with briny fear. Blaze was right. The squidgy had poisoned us.

All my fault.

I stopped struggling, and Kane's grip loosened to a caress. He didn't have to fight. He knew he had me.

Slowly, I swallowed, and rested my temple on his forehead, searching for some small comfort I didn't understand. My lips trembled. "What's happening to me?"

He didn't pull away. He didn't care enough to be unsympathetic. He smiled, his charcoal breath evil on my cheek. "My mirror magnifies desire. It lets you be who you really want to be." He sniffed my cheek delicately, and with a burning flush I remembered him licking me there, everywhere, pinning my wrists to the sheet, his body light and warm on me, inside me, making me come. Dark loathing crusted my heart like rust, but he wouldn't let go. "So many regrets because you're so afraid. All those delights you'll never taste, because you shouldn't. My mirror consumes shouldn't shouldn't, Ice. Think about the potential. No more conscience, and your best effort is to have some grubby little insect suck out your life? Surely there's something you want more than that?"

I trembled against his searing lips, my vision shimmering blue with tears. Something I wanted more? I didn't want any of this. I'd fought with my friends, wrecked our con game, almost broken our most sacred rule. Not to mention those icky suicidal impulses from a moment ago.

Disgust and belated terror mixed a watery mess in my stomach. Christ, I'd be dead if not for Kane.

And demons won't even spit on you for free.

So now I owed him. Inevitability scoured my skin like sandpaper. I owed a demon. How the h.e.l.l did that happen?

I shuddered in his half embrace, too afraid to look him in the eye. "What do you want from me?"

"I want my mirror back. Do that, and I'll cure you. Even though you deserve everything you've made, you little liar." His eyes grew distant, like I'd hurt him.

Shoulda known it wouldn't be that simple. But hope crawled in my bones, humiliating, and it was all I could do not to fall to my knees and beg for his help. "You can cure me? Really?"

He shrugged, his silken suit raw against my skin. "That's what I said."

He wasn't exactly filling me with confidence. "But . . . I gave it away. It could be anywhere by n-"

"Soon, strawberry girl. If you want to survive much longer." He brushed ashen lips on my cheek and wandered off. Calm, unfluttered. Infuriating.

Music exploded back into my ears, shudderingly loud. I shook myself frantically and rubbed my cheek, trying to shed any remnants of his touch, his beautiful scent, that feral ash that followed wherever he went. Around me, dancers forgot he'd been there and closed in, closer, closer until no s.p.a.ce remained between them and me.

Fear smothered me like wet cotton wool, fighting the horrible alien exuberance that already bubbled again under my skin, threatening to betray me. My treacherous nerves tingled, and I tried to calm them with deep breaths, but my lungs hurt, my limbs quivering and jerking like an angry caged rat.

Hands brushed me, bodies pressed against me, hair and nails and fragrant sweat trailed over my skin, and my pulse dissolved in rapture. I loved it. I wanted to jump, twist, dance until I dropped, strip off my skimpy clothes and bathe naked in this wonderful sultry air, the warm wetness of random pleasure.

My hands shook, and tears rippled my vision, underwater blue. If I stayed here, I'd do something stupid. Attract the wrong guy and get wired to a streetlight and fairyslashed for my trouble. Pick a fight with a speed-crazed banshee or some gangster's human squeeze and get my a.s.s kicked to mango pulp.

Give my blood to a vampire and die, just because it might feel good.

Terror stained my soul black, and I ran.

Tripping, stumbling against hard sweaty bodies, heedless of my wings, sliding on wobbly ankles until the dance floor was gone and I fumbled in green neon solitude, my sweat-drenched reflection flashing in a wall of spooky mirrors.

The warm dimness soothed my agitated pulse. Beside me a pale human boy with bruised wrists and a metal-spiked banshee in a white vinyl catsuit swooned against the gla.s.s, kissing, their bodies slicking together in a rain of sweaty pink hair, her long blue nails slicing delicate cuts into his skinny rib cage. Another death wish cousin. I swallowed tart sickness and turned away.

I looked strange in the gla.s.s, oddly shaped, not quite right. My reflection was still bleeding, the dark blue mess stark against my green-lit skin, the creature's teethmarks already bruising black. My hair clotted in it, rude orange locks stained dark, the rough pin-up job I did at home tumbling out in untidy hanks. A creeping ache still tore at my throat and clawed down into my back. What the h.e.l.l was I thinking?

I pressed my hot cheek against the cool gla.s.s, and it sizzled. My fingerpads stuck, and my palm prints smeared blood and sweat, l.u.s.tful moisture still sore in my lungs. My tears washed the gla.s.s blue, and I whimpered, my breath steaming in wisps. Guilty pulse thudded in my throat. Me and shiny things. Why'd I have to look? Why couldn't I just keep my stupid fingers to myself?

A tall shadow tinted the gla.s.s black, and my skin shivered at that metaldark scent. "Ice? Are you . . . Is everything okay?"

Wrapped in sultry shadow beneath the mezzanine, Akash watches Kane walk away from the yellow girl. Sensation crawls under his skin, unpleasant but compelling, and Akash labels it apprehension and savors it like fruity nectar. Delectable. His favorite so far is longing, that sweet hot pain deep inside that makes him shiver, but that one's fickle and hard to come by.

Kane spears a swift dark glance around as he leaves, and Akash ducks back into darkness, for all the good it'll do. Though if the demon can smell him, he's giving no sign.

He sc.r.a.pes his dark hair back for the hundredth time, just to feel his stolen body move. The physical rewards are constant yet shifting, depending on fatigue, hunger, sensory arousal, and mood. The effects are countless. He's used to uniformity, predictability, sameness. Fascinating.

Fascinating, too, this yellow person Kane threatens. Akash remembers her from last night, on Kane's lap with pleasure sighing from her lips. Akash can't hear their present conversation, but a demon either threatens or seduces, and she doesn't look seduced, not this time; her face loses color and denial glazes her honey-gold eyes.

Akash knows honey. They have honey at home, and it's the color of her eyes, though they're flashed now with rainbow lights like starfire. He knows seduction, too, because he's watched it here, watched them play and tease and give each other pleasure, reluctant or eager or disgusted. He's getting better at copying their expressions, figuring out what they mean. Seduction looks like color and warm sweat and hot breath, and this yellow person exhibits none of those.

"She looks afraid." Beside him, Indra strokes a finger along her thigh, watching the skin b.u.mps rise. She's still wearing the short leather skirt. She likes it.

So does Akash. He's never thought about what she's wearing before.

"Yes. Well done." His eyes swivel back to the yellow one, and he's oddly pleased by the way his gaze lingers on her. She means something to Kane, even if it's only as a minion. He fingers his necklace, the skulls pleasantly warm and angular on his fingertips.

"And sad. The water on her face means sad. Or angry."

"Yes." Indra does well. She's already begun their collection as he ordered. He needs to examine these creatures, figure out how Kane exerts such power over them. They have a warehouse a few city blocks away to hold their specimens for interrogation and experiment. Separate boxes to keep them clean, one of each if possible. He wonders if the colors matter. "That one knows about Kane. She could be useful. Do we have a yellow one, Indra?"

"Not yet." Indra licks her finger. "Salt."

That tickles his interest. "Really?"

She offers it to him, with a pa.s.sable happy smile. Lips curled, eyes bright, brows slightly raised. She, too, has practiced facial expressions. "Try it."

Something inside his body tightens, like he's tied with invisible cord. He takes her wrist and slides her fingertip between his lips. Her skin glides across his teeth. Vibration tingles his mouth. Interesting sensation. He licks her finger. Her skin is smooth, and bright salty tang tweaks the very tip of his tongue. Delicious. He lets his lips close around her painted fingernail, and on impulse he pulls with his tongue and her finger slides into his mouth up to the knuckle.

His tongue stings, aroused, and hot sensation stabs deep into his blood.

Swiftly she pulls away, her face changing color. "Don't. It is not permitted."

Akash swallows, licking the raw spot on his lips where her finger pa.s.sed. He shifts, compelled, and movement is uncomfortable. Her human taste still fires in his mouth, the rapid hot delight of it making him wonder if he's broken some hidden rule. He tries to speak and finds his throat dry. "What is not permitted?"

"It." Indra looks away and sticks her finger out to let it dry.

Akash stares into the crowd, but he's not seeing anything. He concentrates on his body, memorizing every last flush and tingle of this new sensation. He wonders if they all feel like this, so wild and uncertain and eager. It would be easy to forget purpose, feeling like this. Easy to discard higher things and wallow in wet sensory gluttony.

Understanding washes him, warm, and he laughs, the smoky air and rippling muscles pleasant inside his chest.

Sensation is the key to Kane's power.

Feed them with heat and s.e.x and substances until their minds weaken. Clever, this sneaky demon lord. Far cleverer than Akash's masters supposed. Shadow told Akash this would be an easy victory. Shadow was mistaken.

It doesn't seem possible. But it's true. Shadow was wrong. Akash must adapt.

But how to fight Kane, when he lures their souls so powerfully? How to defeat an enemy who gives the creatures exactly what they want?

"There she goes. Look." Indra nudges him, cautious.

"What?" He blinks, distracted. The yellow woman wobbles past him, blind with tears and rage.

"Unhappy." Indra confirms her diagnosis.

"Kane did not please her."

"Why not? He is a demon. The prince of lies. Is it possible-?"