“Cara, no.” Venina cowered against the door, her face tear-streaked. “I’m not worth it. Don’t let—” Jacob’s raised arm silenced her without even striking.
Trembling, Cara met Venina’s red-rimmed eyes. And saw something she hadn’t noticed before. There was steel in that emerald green, a courage Cara hadn’t reckoned with—no one had reckoned with, judging by how carelessly Jacob turned his back on Venina, his focus on Cara.
Away from a threat he’d clearly underestimated.
It showed in the surprise in his icy eyes when Venina wrenched the dagger from his hand. In the moment of shock when his features slackened after the young witch-turned-demon slit her own throat. In his gasp when she managed to slice through both femoral arteries on her thighs as well before she collapsed. Her blood gushed onto the floor, ruby red on the white carpet.
“Huxley. Look at me.”Her vision swam, her throatraw.His aura had faded to all but anember.She stroked his cheeks, her lips trembling. “I love you. I’ll mate with you, quire-griffin style and all. I’ll fucking mate with you. But only if you holdon.”Her breath hurt, going in, going out, from her aching throat all the way down to her chest, to the epicenter of a pain so cutting it might annihilateher.“Please,” shewhispered.His lips parted. Silver-gold shimmered as he opened his eyes just a slit. Breath rattling in his throat, he met her anguished stare. “Holding…on.”She choked on a sob of relief. Her fingers tender on his skin, she caressed his jaw, histemples.Raising his hand, he touched her lips. “Tell me…” he rasped. “Need to…hear&helli
Sounds and lightfiltered through the darkness blanketing Huxley mind. His thoughts disentangling from a web of images and sensations, he became aware of his current surroundings. A pillow beneath his head, a mattress underneath his back, a soft sheet coveringhim.And two warm bodies pressed against hisown.Eyes flying open to semi-darkness, he looked to his legs, where Max snored softly, snuggled up to him. Hux turned his head, silky black curls brushing against his jaw. The scent of lush flowers and rain teased his nose, let him draw in a breath that threatened to burst hislungs.Cara.Her head resting on his shoulder, hands tucked between their bodies, she lay curled against him, one leg thrown over his. Eyes closed, her black lashes fanned out over her cheeks. Even though he hated to disturb her sleep, he couldn’t help brushing a lock of her midnight hair from her face, his fingers
“Bye, Uncle Shay! Bye, Aunt Cara!”The door closed, shutting off the kids’ voices and their franticwaves.Cool night air stroked over Cara’s skin as she and Huxley descended the front steps to the sidewalk. Twining her fingers with Hux, she stole a glance at her mate—mate—and smiled, her heart ready to burst. She’d never get used to thisfeeling.“So,” she said, “howdidyou get to be scared of spiders? You never told me thestory.”He shot her a look from behind narrowed eyes, the silver in them catching the moonlight. “Won’t let it go, willyou?”“Like a dog with a bone. Nowspill.”He grumbled something incoherent, and she nudged him with herelbow.“Come on, Mr. Quire-orgy.”“Agastopia.” His smile made her belly fl
His last hope of finding his brother is a disrespectful demon, If he can control it ...Witch Margaret Chrysler needs a provocative charming demon, which she must watch out for how much she needs a hole in the head.However, he finds himself tied to a demon with a dark past as hot as his annoying, all so he can find his trapped brother.He had better track down the kidnapper quickly, before he goes crazy. Or worse ...Stealing his heart.Atticus Vhampson loses care of the others in the magical prison of the Shadows. So when Margaret lets him go to help her, her plan is simple: Seduce the Sexy Witch, Steal her powers so she won't be bound again, and be happy.Much to his frustration, though, there is a fatal flaw in his plan, the Witch makes him want to keep him.And that would be a disaster.//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
He licked the curve of her neck up to her ear. "Keep doing that, little witch," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Feels amazing."He stopped moving, and with a disappointed tsk he resumed drinking.Oh, gods. He tried to touch his weak magic, just so that it could slip through his fingers mentally. His body turned rubbery, black bleeding in his sight. He is much stronger than he should be. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Failsafe measure."The reminder of how he would be kicked back into the Shadows if he killed her stopped him. He stopped drinking, moved away so he could be caught in his sharp gaze. "You're bluffing."She was. Not that she would let him see that, though. “Try me,” she whispered, infusing the words with as much daring bluff as possible.His thumb gently rubbed her lower lip. "Maybe I will." He gripped her neck and bit again.&n
He had to hold back a laugh. She really did have some spunk, and damn if she didn't like it. Giving him an insulting enough look, he said, "Believe it or not, I do have certain standards." Raising his head, he looked up as if he remembered, a slow smile flashed on his face. “I think I’ll pay a visit to that luscious blonde a few houses down. She looked very much agreeable. ” And with that he turned to leave.Behind him a fiery emotion from Marga erupted in him. The air was filled with his power — his control over it grew louder and louder — with the lamps in the room flashing. The feathers rose on his neck. His own magic, which was simpler and more natural in nature, leaped in response to the power resisting him.Keeping it tightly controlled, he continued to walk out of the living room.She was about to open the door to the foyer when Marga sighed, full of conflicting emotions to drive a psychiatri
Atticus watched Marga stalk away from him toward the kitchen, the scent of her anger mingling with the aroma of her arousal that still suffused the air. Such an intoxicating combination, wrapping around Atticus senses and challenging his self-control. It was all he could do not to tackle her again and keep his promise to make her moan his name. He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath—which only intensified the effect of her alluring scent. Bad idea. Really bad idea. Sure, he’d fulfilled his need for nourishment, but it had done nothing to slake the bone-deep hunger for pleasure within him. His own desire remained painfully unfulfilled, his hard cock straining against the fly of his jeans being evidence of that. It had taken an amount of self-restraint he’d never known he was capable of not to rip Marga’s clothes off on the staircase and drive more than just his fingers inside her. His hands clenched to fist
They drove back in heavy silence in the quiet of dawn. Atticus stared out the window, while Marga was lost in thoughts so dark they threatened to break her. She’d been foolish enough to assume they would track down the demon without delay—through the anguished haze in her mind, strung out by the desperate need to rescue Marissa, she’d completely forgotten Atticus couldn’t use his powers during the day. By the laws of nature, he was a creature of the dark, his magic inextricably linked to the reign of the night. She mentally reached out to sense his aura, but all she encountered was the average vibrancy of a healthy male mind and body, and though it appealed to the woman inside her, it differed little from a human energy pattern. Like his demon powers, Atticus distinctive preternatural aura lay dormant for the day. The same would hold true for Marissa’s captor, but Merle didn’t fool herself. Her sister would still suffer