Dates From Hell (30 page)

9

T
he single kiss we’d shared had come in the
depths of the night as this did. Then I’d still believed in a world without pure evil. Then I’d believed I had a life ahead of me, that I still had a shot at true love.

Now I knew better. That knowledge made the kiss no less mind-bending. Maybe the knowledge made it more so. If tonight was my last night, I wanted to spend it like this. With him.

I opened my mouth, deepened the kiss. He tasted of mint—fresh, cool, new. I licked his teeth and he moaned.

My fingers managed to pop several buttons of his shirt before fumbling in their haste and becoming unable to finish the job. Instead, I latched on to the lapels and tugged.

He stumbled forward, almost knocking me down. “
Lo siento.
I—”

I kissed him again. “No talking.”

If we talked too much, I might lose my nerve. If we waited too long, he might lose his.

Grabbing his hand, I practically dragged him to the bedroom. There I yanked my shirt over my head and tossed it into a corner. My bra followed just as fast. His dark gaze wandered over my breasts. I might be short, and I might be dumpy, but my breasts were pretty darn good.

He kicked the door shut behind us.

His shirt hung open, framing his chest. The ripples and curves, all that bronzed skin…I wanted to run my hands everywhere; so I did.

My thumb skated over the tattoo on his breastbone. Very small; without my glasses I had to get closer to make out the tiny cross inside of a circle. I wondered what it meant, then I wondered if I’d ever have time to ask.

I leaned forward and ran my tongue over one nipple, then the other. They tightened against my lips so I scored them with my teeth.

He grabbed my hair and I stilled, ready to fight for the right to taste him. But instead of pulling me away, his palm cupped my head, urging me on.

I suckled him, the tiny bud of his nipple hard against the roof of my mouth. His free hand smoothed over my back, up my ribs, then settled onto my breast where his thumb teased me into a similar state.

My knees wobbled, so I let them collapse, sliding my cheek down his stomach, rubbing my mouth against the front of his pants. I’d always wanted to open a guy’s zipper with my teeth.

It didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. My teeth ached; the zipper stuck. Too much pressure from the other side.

Impatience flared, and he wrenched the thing open, taking himself in his own hand and jerking his palm over the length just once.

I shoved him out of the way and took him in my mouth. No time to be shy, no time to learn all the nuances. I wanted to experience everything, and I only had one night.

His palm at my neck, he showed me how it was done, throwing his head back, his hips flexing in an ever-increasing rhythm. When he pulled away, I pulled him back. But he lifted me to my feet and kissed me so roughly our teeth clashed.

He was hard and hot against my stomach, wet from my mouth. I gave an involuntary shimmy, and the resulting slide made us both groan.

He tore his lips from mine and pressed our foreheads together. “Where did you learn this stuff?”

“I’m making it up as I go along.”

The soft breath of his laughter brushed my cheek. “I love a woman with an imagination.”

After inching me backward several steps, he put a hand to the center of my chest and shoved. I tumbled onto the bed. He stared at me with a strange expression—as if he’d never seen me before.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re so pretty.”

I snorted. “Don’t bother, Chavez. I’m a sure thing.”

“Bother?” His head tilted; his hair swung free of his shoulders and his earring winked in between the dark strands.

“I’m not pretty. Never have been. I never will be. Don’t care.”

Or at least I didn’t anymore. What would be the point?

The realization was freeing. I
didn’t
care about my rounded belly, my wide hips, the stretch marks that resembled a road atlas across my butt. None of that mattered anymore. Only this did.

Him. Me. Together just once.

He shucked his pants, then removed mine and joined me on the bed. I lifted my arms. He came into my embrace and brushed his lips across the slope of one breast.

“I know where beauty lives,” he murmured.

His dark fingers drifted over my skin, gentle and sure as he aroused me. He learned what I liked as I did. His clever mouth wandered; his devilish tongue arrowed in on erogenous zones I’d never heard of, as well as those everyone had.

His beard had lengthened past the rough stage and become almost soft. The texture both tickled and tormented, another sensation to add to so many. He teased me to oblivion more than once, and then he teased me to the precipice again.

“I can’t,” I gasped.

“You will.”

His body slid up and over me, nearly into me. I opened for him and he stopped.

“Ahhh!” I smacked his back with my fists and he choked on stifled laughter. The sound rumbled all the way to my toes, making me hum everywhere, making me want to laugh, too. To be laughing now was both a wonder and a gift—a downright miracle.

“This might hurt a little,” he said.

“What did I tell you about talking?”

His smiled deepened, and he kissed me, the way I was starting to crave. Hot, wet, lots of tongue. The man knew what he was doing.

While I was preoccupied with his talent at tickling my tonsils, he drove forward, burying himself inside.

It didn’t hurt. I felt…full. A tiny bit uncomfortable maybe—

I shifted, and something went
ping.
That hurt a little, but I forgot all about it when the very earth seemed to move. I know that sounds so dumb, but there you go.

Warm and alive he filled me. His body moved to an ancient rhythm—a rhythm echoed in the beat of my blood. I rocked against him; he rocked against me, and for that moment there were only the two of us.

His face was fierce, his eyes dark, intense as they stared into mine. I’d always thought sex an act better performed in the dark, but we’d left on all the lights, enjoying every sight, every sound. I couldn’t help but reach up and touch his cheek.

“Chavez,” I whispered.

He slowed, staring down at me with such an intense, searching expression, warmth spread through my chest. Something had changed, but I wasn’t sure what.

“My name is Zac.”

“Zac,” I repeated.

At the sound of his name on my lips, he pulsed inside me, the force of his release inciting my own. The orgasm went on and on—him, me, us—there was nothing and no one else, just the way the world ought to be.

When it was over, we lay tangled together. He stroked my hip; I played with his hair. I didn’t want to let him go, and that was a very dangerous thing to want.

“Did the world move?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

He lifted his head, kissed the tip of my nose. I got that weird feeling again—the sock in the gut, the warm, gushy swirl. My eyes burned.

“What’s the matter?”

I glanced at the window. Still night, but not for long.

“You think we can do it again?”

He rolled off me but grabbed my hand as he went, tangling our fingers together, then playing footsie, too. “We can, but not right this second.”

I drew one finger over his tattoo. “What does this mean?”

He stiffened. “You know what a crucifix is.”

“Yes. But the circle?”

“Eternity.”

“Your mother—”

I bit off the word, but he already knew.

“It told you about my mother?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She did her best.”

“Hurting you was her best?”

“She didn’t know any better. I was possessed by a demon. What was she supposed to do?”

I wasn’t sure. What would I do if my son had a bit of Satan inside of him? I hoped I never had to find out.

He touched the tattoo with his fingernail. “She gave me the cross. I did the circle myself.”

I thought of the pain he must have endured—at his own hands and those of someone he trusted. I wanted to take that pain away, but it was too late, and I didn’t know how.

“Why did you do it?” I asked.

“So I’d never forget what I’d sworn to do. If it takes eternity, I
will
kill every demon on this earth.”

I shivered, knowing that meant he’d kill me, too.

“Cold?” He pulled me closer. “I’ll keep you warm while we sleep.”

Oh-oh,
said a tiny panicked voice in my head. I was in serious trouble now.

I’d vowed not to have sex without love, but what was I going to do now that I’d fallen in love because of the sex?

Not love.
No.
I was just dazzled by the orgasm. Once he killed me, everything would be different.

I pulled away. I couldn’t sleep in his arms and wake up to a gun, a knife, or whatever he planned to use.

Getting out of bed, I yanked the sheet along with me and wrapped it around my chest. Chavez didn’t even try to cover up, merely stared at me with wary, confused eyes.

“When are you going to do it?” I demanded.

“You have to give the equipment a rest, Kit. I’m not seventeen.”

“Not it, it. When are you going to kill me?”

His brows drew together; his mouth turned down. He sat up slowly, and I took a step back at the violence in his expression.

“What do you think I am? A monster worse than the ones I hunt?” He climbed off the mattress and began to stalk me around the room. “You think I’d make love to you, then murder you?”

“You have to, Zac.”

“Don’t call me that!” His voice broke, anguish washed over his face. “You can’t call me by that name and think I’d hurt you.”

I let him get too close and he grabbed me, then gave me a good shake. “I wouldn’t kill you. Not for any reason.”

“You won’t need to,” said a strange voice from the door.

I yelped and spun around. No big shock to find another stranger in my house. This guy was nondescript—not too tall, not too short, average weight, dishwater hair, gray eyes. But there was something strange about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“Does a person have to be dead to find some peace around here?” I muttered.

Of course being dead didn’t seem to mean what it once had. According to Satan, the dead would soon be dating all over the place.

Chavez shoved me behind him, facing the latest demon wearing nothing but a scowl. “What do you want?”

“To set the record straight. I guess you didn’t tell her.”

Chavez’s shoulders tensed and I got a bad feeling.

“Tell me what?” I asked quietly.

Average Joe grinned. “There’s more than one way to sacrifice a virgin.”

10

I
put my hand on Chavez’s shoulder and spun him
around. “You knew that sacrificing the virginity would work as well as sacrificing the virgin.”

No wonder he’d been so insistent that he wasn’t going to kill me. He’d known he wouldn’t have to.

I’m not sure why the truth hadn’t occurred to me before now. Just because I’d been told the sacrifice would be my life didn’t make it true, especially since I’d been told that by a demon.

“Don’t listen to him,” Chavez said. “He wants to put a wedge between us. I’m just not sure why.”

I wanted to believe he hadn’t known. Really I did. But there was that voice in my head that kept saying,
Did you really think he wanted you? Look in the mirror, then look at him.

But there was another voice that insisted Chavez was different. He knew about the ugliness that lived beneath the beauty. He killed it every day. He’d said he liked women with glasses, women who read. Of course that sounded like a bigger lie than any of the others.

“What were you talking to Samantha about all that time?” I asked.

Anger flared in his eyes. I couldn’t believe Chavez had the balls to be angry. “What did you think we were talking about?”

“Where to bury my body?”

“I told you, I’ve killed a lot of things, but I don’t kill people.”

The demon snorted. “Men. They’ll say anything, won’t they?”

I didn’t even glance his way, instead holding Chavez’s eyes. “You should have shot me.”

It might have hurt less.

He winced. “Just because Samantha suggested that removing the virginity the demon craved might be the answer doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

The demon in the doorway began to laugh.

“You shut up!” Chavez snarled.

“Why is he still here?” I demanded. “You sacrificed the virgin. Shouldn’t he be demon dust?”

“That isn’t a demon.”

I switched my attention to the now giggling stranger, and I realized what was different. I didn’t want to jump him. I only wanted to slug him—and every other guy in the room. The sexual obsession was gone. You’d think I’d be happier about it.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Beelzebub.”

I glanced at Chavez. “Again?”

“He seems to like me.”

For a minute I sympathized. Imagine spending half your life chasing evil, killing it, and enjoying periodic visits from Satan whenever things got really rough.

Not much of a life, but that still didn’t excuse him.

Chavez had betrayed me in the worst possible way a man could betray a woman. He’d pretended to want me, but he’d only been using me. Not for sex, but to save my life and the lives of others. I still wasn’t going to thank him.

“So the earth moved for you, Kit?” Satan asked.

I could feel the blood drain from my face. He’d been
watching
?

I glanced at Chavez, who appeared as horrified as I was.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Chavez, but that wasn’t a result of your prowess. The demon was dying.”

Chavez ignored him, reaching for me. I stumbled back. I didn’t want him touching me. Not now or ever again.

Pain flickered in his eyes, turning quickly to fury when the devil snickered. Chavez spun toward him.

“You did this. You sent the demon; you made it so I’d have to hurt her in one way or another.”

“What’s your point?” Satan asked.

Cursing, Chavez snatched his pants from the floor and withdrew a vial of holy water. The devil rolled his eyes. “That isn’t going to kill me.”

Chavez tossed the contents into Satan’s face. Steam, the scent of cooking flesh, the hiss of flames, for an instant I saw the monster behind the mask.

“I know it won’t kill you,” Chavez murmured. “But it sure does sting.”

The devil writhed for several seconds. I was hoping he’d begin to cry, “I’m melting!” then do so. Instead, he straightened and lowered his hands from his face. I tensed, expecting something ugly, but he appeared exactly the same.

“Quit being childish,” he snapped. “I came to offer you a deal.”

“A deal with the devil? Hmm, let me think.” Chavez tapped his fingernail against his chin. “No.”

“Don’t be so hasty. The end is here. Demons are pouring out of hell even as we speak. You’re the only chance the human race has got.”

“Why me?” he asked.

“As you said—I like you. Always have. When I was inside you for that brief time, I felt at home.”

“Fuck you,” Chavez snarled. “I cast you out. And you aren’t getting back in.”

He yanked a cigarette from his pants and hurriedly lit the end. His hand shook, causing the devil to smirk and me to take a single step closer. I might want to stick a sharp implement repeatedly into Chavez’s eye, but I wasn’t going to let Satan hurt him.

“What is he talking about?” I asked. “I thought you were possessed by a demon.”

“He’s the father of all demons. In every one lies a little of him.”

“You’re more like me than you want to believe,” Satan whispered. “That’s why you’re so good at killing us. You can smell evil a mile away, can’t you?”

Chavez took a deep drag and blew the smoke in the other man’s face. Instead of coughing, the devil inhaled it like ambrosia.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured. “Here’s the deal, if you can kill everything I’ve released before the end of the world, I’ll call off the apocalypse. It’ll be like a video game, except real.”

“Since when is he in charge of the apocalypse?” I asked.

Neither one of them answered.

“When’s the end of the world?” Chavez took another drag.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Now who was being childish?

“What happens if I lose?”

“You know.”

The devil began to laugh again, then he disappeared.

I stared at the place where he’d been for several seconds before I lifted my gaze to Chavez. “What happens?”

“He gets my soul.”

Ask a stupid question…

Chavez began to gather his clothes.

“You’re going?”

“You heard him. I don’t have much time.”

“Or maybe you have plenty. No one knows when the end of days actually is. And what if he just decides to finish things when there’s only one demon left to down?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“How
does
it work?”

“There
is
an end of time, except no one’s been able to figure out the exact date. There are a lot of theories.”

“The apocalypse is a Christian belief, and not all Christians believe it.”

“Not believing it doesn’t make it any less real.”

“Sixty-seven percent of the world isn’t Christian,” I pointed out.

“Where do you get all this information?” Chavez asked.

“I like trivia.”

“I like smart women.”

I narrowed my eyes and he went on.

“Satan does come out of the Christian legends, but remember…all religions believe in good and evil. Just because he isn’t called Satan doesn’t make him any less the leader of the underworld. You saw him. He’s real.”

“Which makes the apocalypse real?”

“Even if he’s lying, it won’t hurt to kill all the demons. It’s win-win.”

“Unless you lose.”

“Someone’s got to do it.”

Quickly he dressed, then it was time to say good-bye. I didn’t want to.

What I’d felt for Chavez had been genuine even if what he’d pretended had been…pretend.

“You must have found my last request”—I sighed and turned away—“hysterical.”

“I found it flattering.” He inched in front of me. “And arousing.”

“As well as convenient.”

“Kit—”

“You were going to seduce me.” I shrugged. “You didn’t have to.”

He took a breath as if to speak, and I lifted my hand to stop him. I’d had an epiphany. They didn’t happen often, but when they did I listened.

“It doesn’t matter if you knew or you didn’t. You saved my life.”

My anger had faded. Chavez did what he had to do for the greater good. I didn’t like what he’d done to me—

That was a lie. I’d liked it a lot.

I couldn’t throw stones. I’d slept with him when I thought he planned to kill me. The ultimate one-night stand. I’d sworn to hold out for true love—then at the first sign of an apocalypse I’d thrown away my vow for a good time.

That I’d discovered I loved him later did not excuse me in the least.

I couldn’t stay angry with him when he’d only done what I asked—and what was absolutely necessary.

“Do your job,” I said. “Save the world.”

His gaze softened. My stomach flip-flopped. I couldn’t believe I was giving him up, but then I didn’t have much choice, either.

“I knew you were special from the beginning,” he murmured. “Can I have a kiss good-bye?”

“You can have two.”

The kiss and the one that followed were everything I’d ever dreamed of in a farewell embrace—the heat of lust, the gentleness in caring. My eyes stung, and I fought not to let the tears fall. He had to go, and I had to let him.

Chavez lifted his head. “If the world wasn’t about to end—”

I put my fingers over his lips. “But it is.”

“Yeah.” He stepped back; I clung just a little. “If the world
doesn’t
end…

“Give me a call.”

He never would. A guy like him, a girl like me—heat of the moment and all that. As soon as I was out of sight, I’d be out of mind. But it sounded good—as if I didn’t care, as if I weren’t dying inside.

“Hasta luego, chica.”

The tears were blinding me. I wiped them away, but he was already gone.

The
snick
of my apartment door closing echoed in the suddenly silent room. I was alone again.

Just me and my big fat boring life.