Bound by Light (17 page)

Merilee
.

He called to her in his Astaroth shape, and his voice reverberated so loud in her skull that she shouted, "What, Tarzan? I’m right here!"

Jake snapped back to man-form instantly. He stood, mouth open, beautiful blue eyes glaring at her so intensely she almost yelled at him again—this time for making her heart stop.

Athena’s teeth, every inch of her hurt, but she was alive thanks to Jake, and she could tell that her healing had begun in earnest, thanks to her triad.

Cynda, Riana, and Andy eased back from their nervous stances, and turned loose the elemental energy they had been directing into Merilee’s broken body.

Merilee tested her breathing, and everything seemed to work. Somebody had washed the crusty gunk off her face and hands, and when she glanced at her knuckles, she didn’t see a hint of dirt smears or blood.

Riana rested one hand on her own swollen belly. With the other, she stroked the side of Merilee’s head gently. "You scared the
shit
out of us."

Cynda underscored that point with a brief burst of flame from both of her elbows, melting the corner of Merilee’s sheet.

Andy flicked her wrist upward and doused the fire with a spurt of water from the sprinkler overhead. "Damn, Cynda. There’s like fifty trees’ worth of paper within eight inches of your butt. Ease up."

Water droplets sprayed into Merilee’s face, and she used the crumbly, burned sheet to wipe her eyes. "Sorry I scared you," she said, scraping a bit of mess from beneath her thumbnail. "It
was
a god, you know. Not exactly as easy as fighting stupid-asshole everyday demons." Her gaze flicked to Jake, who was keeping up his intense glare. "Other demons," she amended quickly. "Bad demons, I mean. You know. Asmodai and stuff."

At that, Jake’s expression mellowed a fraction. His lips twitched, like he might be considering a smile. Merilee marveled at the fact that he was clean, too. He wasn’t bruised, and he didn’t have a scratch that she could see. Amazing. After all, she did sort of cause him to get smashed by the god’s fist. Which she’d probably hear about in great detail later, when they were alone.

The silence in the room made her realize that Riana, Cynda, and Andy were staring at her. Or rather, from her to Jake and back again. "Listen," Andy said as she shoved a wad of damp red curls behind one ear, "if you’re not about to die or anything, I could use some sleep, and all these piles of papers and notebooks make me feel claustrophobic."

Merilee flushed and did her best to look away from Jake. "I’m okay, really, but you don’t have to—"

"Leave." Riana was still rubbing her own belly with one hand. "Actually, yes, that’s a good idea. You need to rest, Merilee. At least a few days without patrol. No stress, no anything but good food and recreation." She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, her lightly tanned skin coloring red along the lines of her jaw. "I mean, relaxation."

"Yeah, right." Cynda’s grumble was unmistakable. She held both of her hands under her stomach, as if to support the weight of her soon-to-arrive baby. "Look, blondie," she said to Jake, eyeing him like she might cook a part of his body any second now, "you’re leaving with us, okay?"

"Cynda—" Riana started, but Cynda cut her off.

"Jake. Is. Leaving. With. Us." Her green eyes blazed at him, as if daring him to argue.

Without comment, Jake shifted into Astaroth form and glared right back at her. Merilee caught her breath, which hurt like hell, afraid he was actually planning to fight with Cynda. A day ago, she would have put all her money on her triad sister, but after what she witnessed tonight, the thought of Jake angry with
anyone
gave her a deep case of the shivers.

Jake made no move against Cynda. He also didn’t flinch when fire broke out on the floor beside him. Instead, as Riana used her earth energy to smother the flames, Jake turned, strode to the balcony doors, and pushed open the big beveled panes of glass.

Merilee drew an involuntary breath as fresh wind rushed into the room and settled across her head and shoulders. She thought about calling out to him, asking him to stay, but she couldn’t find the right words.

Jake paused, as if absorbing strength from that same moving air—or maybe waiting for Merilee to say something. When she remained silent, he didn’t look back at her. He simply raised his arms and took off into the still-dark sky, wings pushing more wind behind him.

Andy stared at the space where he had taken flight. "Good going, Cynda. I think you really pissed him off."

Cynda sent a jet of fire through the open balcony doors. "I don’t give a fuck. I piss everybody off—and he needs to leave her alone for now."

Merilee levered herself upward on her elbows, hoping her ribs didn’t crack all over again. "He took out a horned voodoo god, Cynda. And what if I don’t
want
to be left alone?"

When Cynda stared down at her, her green eyes were full of worry and anger. "Okay, great, yeah, I’m glad he fought well at Fresh Kills, but he’s a demon, Merilee. Full-blooded. Not a mix—and he tried to kill me when we first met him."

"But he didn’t kill you, even though he was being compelled to do so," Riana reminded Cynda, looking ever more weary with each word. "He saved Merilee’s life tonight, and he’s an Astaroth beloved by and
approved
by the Mothers."

Cynda’s jaw worked for a few seconds before she spoke. "The Mothers didn’t see him when he lost it with me a few years back—or when he brought Merilee home. He looked rabid. Like an animal. Like he could have—"

She stopped and looked away, but Merilee finished the sentence in her mind.

Like he could have ripped out my throat
.

She remembered the sound of Jake’s shout back at Fresh Kills, when the god vanished.

He saved me.

She remembered how he had slashed and torn at the creature, refusing to surrender for even a second, determined to kill what could never be killed.

But he saved me.

Still, Cynda was right. Jake Lowell was a dangerous man. Demon. Whatever.

So why don’t I care?

Why didn’t he scare her?

Merilee’s eyes traveled to the open balcony doors, her insides aching in a new way, wishing he would reappear.

Meanwhile, Andy was busily guiding Cynda and Riana away from the bed, urging them out of the library. "For your own good, and especially Merilee’s, let’s get the hell out of here and give her some peace and space."

"We’ll be back in a few hours," Riana called. "With breakfast."

"Delilah’s still here," Cynda added. "She’ll make you something Irish."

The door banged shut, leaving Merilee alone in the library’s low, peaceful lighting.

The spot by the open doors was dark except for the moonlight, and no matter how hard she willed Jake to appear, he didn’t.

She sat up without much discomfort and sighed, and the sound echoed in the room’s expanding silence.

All of a sudden, she wanted to talk to him so badly the desire hurt worse than her rapidly healing ribs. She rubbed the sore spots, grateful for superior Sibyl healing capacity. By tomorrow, next day at the latest, she’d be good as new again, even though her own jagged rib bones had been sitting in her lung tissue less than an hour ago.

If Jake were here, she’d thank him for saving her ass at Phila’s apartment, and again at Fresh Kills. She’d ask him what he thought about the book in the diagram that summoned Bosou Koblamin, and why Phila had it open to the image of that Egyptian god Thoth. She’d work with him to form a plan to search the city for Phila. She’d tell him she’d never met an Astaroth as powerful as he was. She’d ask him why he was so different from other demons of his kind.

Merilee hugged herself and rocked, eyes closed.

Then she’d probably kiss him. Lead him to her bed, and let him stroke and kiss and lick away every ounce of tension, every gram of doubt and pain and worry.

That light inside him was
so
bright. If any man, demon or not, could please her, satisfy her, truly make the world go away and leave her alone, capture her completely—it would be Jake.

Merilee turned loose another sigh, this one hurting her ribs enough to bring her back to reality. Even though somebody had cleaned her up pretty good, she still felt filthy, like she needed to wash any lingering traces of the landfill off one more time, for good measure. And change the sheets, too.

Slowly, carefully testing herself with each motion, she slipped out of her covers, grabbed one of her notebooks, and recorded quick details of the fight at Fresh Kills, as well as her most recent dreams. Then she put the notebook and pencil on the floor by the bed and did a few standing stretches to ease her tightness and discomfort.

After she was sure all the movement wouldn’t kill her, she gathered the bedclothes and pulled them into a pile, then dropped them on the floor beside a bookshelf. She’d get fresh ones from the closet—after a long, hot shower.

With one last glance at the balcony, she padded across the library toward the door.

Jake landed so quietly Merilee almost didn’t hear him, but the soft thump made her turn around.

He stood holding the beveled glass doors, perfect skin shimmering a bright silvery-pearl. His wings folded to resting position as his golden eyes fixed on her, swept from her face to her bare breasts and below, all the way to her toes and back up again. His lips parted, and moonlight glinted off his formidable fangs.

I still feel so filthy
. But her nipples tightened and heat rushed between her legs. A soft, insistent wind stirred off her skin, ruffling her hair before reaching out and wrapping itself around Jake.

Damn, but she hoped that wind didn’t stink like the landfill, yet if it did, Jake didn’t seem to care. Merilee trembled under his appreciative scrutiny, and she couldn’t make herself move, not for anything, not with his eyes on her, touching her everywhere she wanted his hands and mouth.

He stepped out of the window to the floor, shifting as he moved toward her. No wings now. More solid. Darker-skinned. Scars flecked the perfection of his bare chest and muscled arms. He didn’t recreate his shirt, but jeans formed over his tapered hips. Then he was standing in front of her, right in front of her, inhaling like he could smell the musk of her desire.

Merilee wondered if Jake could hear her heartbeat grow louder, faster—or her breathing, the way she couldn’t get a full gulp of air. He could definitely hear the whistle of the growing wind as it circled them and pressed them closer.

Jake’s blue eyes burned with hunger as he reached out and brushed a finger against the scar on her jaw, then gripped her bare forearms and pulled her against his hard, smooth chest. Her sensitive nipples rubbed against the ridge of his muscles, sending blazes of heat from her chest to the throbbing spot between her legs.

His obvious erection pushed into her belly, and Merilee almost moaned. The wind she created did moan, and a few books rattled on nearby shelves.

The man hadn’t even kissed her yet, and already she could feel that steel-hard cock inside her, pumping into her depths, and oh, sweet Aphrodite, she wanted him right here, right now on the floor, even if it shattered all of her barely knit bones.

Jake bent his face toward hers.

Merilee closed her eyes and moved against him, electrified by the feel of him, the sense and smell of him, so hot and spicy and perfect, just what she needed, just what she wanted, now, damnit,
now
. Her lips tingled, waiting for his.

But nothing happened.

She tensed, and her air energy ebbed, quelling the wind.

Merilee opened her eyes, confused and disappointed. Jake was studying her, his expression flat, unreadable, except for his eyes, which flickered and stormed and brooded all at the same time.

He let her go, pushing her gently away from him.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice husky with what had to be desire.

Merilee gaped at him, then more or less hurled her naked body back against his and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Are you kidding?" she murmured, then kissed him with the full force of her arousal.

Jake groaned against her lips, then kissed her back, pushing her head down with his barely controlled strength. She felt his embrace, swift and rough and hard, squeezing her, setting off the agony in her chest and belly and ribs, but she didn’t give a damn, not at all, because he was kissing her.

Yes, yes, yes. He was really kissing her.

His tongue delved into her mouth, twining with hers, and she started to sweat and ache in better ways, deeper ways. His hands traveled to her hips and stroked the curves, then gripped her ass, pulling her bare sex against his rough jeans and that tempting, hot, and growing bulge.

Merilee arched into him, rubbing herself against the zipper, reaching for the snap with both hands as once more, her wind whispered around the library—and once more, Jake’s lips broke apart from hers. So sharp this time, so firmly and abruptly that she felt it like a blow in the center of her being. All air in the room stopped moving.