Demon Chained (Shadowfae Chronicles) (27 page)

I didn't want to look at him. But black forks of compulsion jabbed into my eyeballs and swiveled them around.

Tam swallowed. "She died screaming for me to help her, and I wasn't there."

I remembered Javier, shattering to pieces on that icy stone floor, that empty chill in his once fiery eyes. Could I have helped him? Could I have tried harder, worked faster, given more?

No. Not true. It was his fault. He'd betrayed me.

But if I'd really loved him, wouldn't I have kept him away from Shazad at all costs, instead of going along with his mad-ass plan? Wouldn't I have killed Shazad when I had the chance?

Acid swirled in my stomach, the old guilt bubbling up. Javier died. I'd failed him. Anything else was just my vanity.

Tam's black eyes glinted harder. "But she was there with me in hell. Dead, her little face smashed by a bullet, blood soaking her hair. She snarled at me like a witch. Spat at me, threw things at me, clawed at me with her little nails. Screamed that I'd killed her, that it was my fault."

A stained tear clogged his lashes, and my lungs ached. I imagined what it'd be like to have the man I'd loved hating me, cursing me for eternity. I'd do pretty much anything to stop that happening. Wouldn't I?

"And it wasn't only Katie. Every single person I ever hurt, they knew my guilt and they blamed me. I begged Kane to help me, to bring me back so I could make it right. And then I got here, and it's all true. She's dead. She's in hell, hating me."

I shook my head, stammering. "No, that can't be right. Little girls don't go to hell."

Jagged, bitter laughter. "Don't be too sure. They're not a merciful bunch down there."

"But—"

"I can't put it right, okay? Kane lied to me. All I can do is make sure Joey festers in hell with me. But . . ." He stopped, his jaw clenching.

"But killing Joey won't help her," I finished for him, rough over a catch in my throat.

"You think I haven't figured that out? Look at me. What else am I supposed to do? Call it hiding if you want. But it's all I've got."

"That is so much bullshit!" I paced back and forth, itching. I wanted to slap his face, bang his head back into the tree trunk to beat some sense into him. "You've got so much, even if you want to pretend it all away. You're warm, you're clever, you give a damn—"

He gave a twisted smile. "Yeah. Me and my big bleeding heart. Done me good so far."

"Come off it, Tam. Gavain practically falls on his ass whenever you glance in his direction. You think that's all for your cute butt and your pretty face?"

His gaze flickered away, sullen. "Leave Gavain out of it."

"Why? You afraid of him too?"

"Because he's probably dead by now, okay? I can't do anything about that. I had to choose between him and you, and I did the best I could. If Katie needs any help spitting on me, I'm sure Gavain'll be right beside her."

"Don't you think Katie knows you did your best for her, too? You gave your life for her, Tam. That sounds like a pretty big effort to me—"

"Don't patronize me. I was there, in hell. I know what I saw."

"You saw what they wanted you to! Demons lie, Tam. That's why it's called hell. Wake up."

For a moment, his mouth trembled like a child's. Then he sighed, flexing his shoulders, trying to relax. "Is this really how you want to spend your last few hours tonight?"

I massaged my forehead with tight fingers, a budding ache burning. Even though we argued, I didn't want it to be over between us. "Sure. Whatever you say. You're in charge, remember? Wish, and let's get it over with."

He leaned his bleeding shoulder against the tree trunk, sunshine blossom falling in his hair. "So what do you want?"

My temple thudded. "Come again?"

"It's up to you. Do what you like, go where you please. I'll say whatever you want."

My mind tumbled over a precipice, falling . . .Whatever
I
wanted. "Are you insane?"

"I don't know how else to make it up to you, okay? It's the best I can do."

He was mad. His brain had finally rotted away. That was the only explanation.

Other than the simple one: he cared. He cared that he'd lied to me, and was trying to make it up, as best he could and stay alive.

I tried to speak, to tell him he was nuts. But my tongue tied itself in knots, and I could only stare, my eyes filling with awestruck tears.

He stuck bleeding hands in his pockets, and gave a sweet, bashful shrug that charmed me to my soul. "Just don't come after me when I do make it to hell, okay? An eternity of your mouthy crap is more than anyone deserves."

My heart melted. Maybe it was overwrought nerves. Or lamp-drunk hormones. I didn't care. He was right. With him, I was as free as I'd ever been. I shouldn't spend these last hours in a sour mood.

I rubbed my forehead again, trying to imagine everything I'd ever wanted, all the places I might go and things I might do. If he was offering, I shouldn't turn him down. But my mind flopped like a grounded fish, unable to make progress. My own magic, at my disposal. What did I want?

I'd never really thought about it before. I was always too busy looking after other people's wants. Winning freedom was an end in itself. I hadn't considered the 'what then?'

Travel? I'd been there, wherever it was. Baubles, pretty things? No point. Money? Waste of time. A big fat tasty last meal? My mouth watered. Now we were getting somewhere. But I could get that without magic.

Urgency tickled my spine. Only a few hours left. Come on, Jewel, get with it. Make your wish. You might never get another one.

I stretched my neck, peering through overhanging wattle branches to the sky. In here, it was dark, and I could see stars, twinkling like tiny fires. A warm breeze rose, fingering my hair, rippling the torn silk he'd given me over my skin. The city's fragrance teased me, wattle blossom and coarse smoke and the distant brackish twang of the river and the dark, rich reminder of his skin on mine.

Warmth spread through my body, relaxing my limbs, making me want to stretch naked in the grass and laugh. Life was a wonderful thing. I'd lost my grip on that, in these past few hours spent fixated on fear and guilt and stupid jealousy. But I hadn't forgotten how it felt to wait out all those decades, trapped in my cold, barren lamp in the dark. No senses. No stimulation. Nothing but my thoughts, and time.

Only yesterday, I'd danced laughing with rain spilling over my arms. I'd slashed my hair short with a switchblade, stolen a girl's sexy dress, made out with a hot fairy stranger and taken a cute boy home for sex just because I could. I'd stuffed myself on salty noodles, worn blue lipstick, danced to nerve-jarring music with a smile on my face. I'd gotten drunk on sensation, and loved every minute of it.

And here I stood, wasting my last precious minutes with anger and blame, when I could be having what I craved most of all.

My breath caught with longing. Jewel, for a smart girl, you're not very bright.

Tam lifted his chin. "You ready?"

I wandered slowly up to him, decision's sweet fire licking my veins. "Anything I want?"

"Anything in my power."

"Promise?"

"Sure."

I chewed my fingertip. "And when sunrise comes, it's over? I'm not your problem anymore? You're not responsible for me?"

He shifted, his gaze flickering, but he didn't move away. "If you want to put it that way, yeah."

I stepped closer, into that dark aura where his body heat caressed me. "Then stand still," I whispered, "and let me do this." And I reached up to slide my finger across his bleeding lips.

***

Chapter Twenty-Seven

His head jerked back, banging against the tree. "What the hell are you—"

"Don't move. You promised." I leaned closer, his breath a warm whisper on my mouth, and licked his blood from my finger. My mouth watered at the taste. Delicious, salty, gritty. My body warmed. Yes. My man was beautiful, tasty, fragrant, wonderful to touch. Even his voice did naughty things to my insides. An exotic meal for all my senses. And I wasn't stopping until I'd gorged my fill.

He licked his lips. "But—"

"I'm not your problem, Tam. Forget guilt. Forget responsibility. There's no tomorrow for us. There can't be. Just do as I say." I dragged my fingers through his hair, pulling his head back. Black tangles, rough and raw like homespun silk. I hovered my mouth over his throat, his skin only a quiver away, and the raw, ripe taste of him zinged into my head like alcohol, dizzying me before I'd even kissed him. This was life. No time clocks, no baubles, no magic. Just sensation, pure and wonderful. My voice choked, desire and gratitude. "God, you smell amazing."

His breath quickened along with my pulse. "That's not true. Don't tease."

"Not teasing." I nuzzled his shoulder, letting his hair trail over my face, the hot smell of jasmine and peach shampoo and male skin. "Just indulge me."

His fingers hovered over my hips, hesitant. "But—"

"Didn't I say, don't move?" I grabbed his wrists and trapped him against the tree. My body collided with his, and desire sizzled between us like fairy fire. I wanted to feel him, taste him, juice him up like a fruit shake and swallow him. "Tell me you want me."

"You know." He fought me, and I felt his forearms swell as his fists clenched. His wrists twisted in my grip. Just hard enough to turn me on even more. I loved the struggle, the tension, the game.

But he wasn't playing properly yet. "I want to hear it. Tell me how much you want me."

He ducked, searching with his mouth for mine, but I yanked my head aside. He laughed, breathless. "Witch. Like I want to get drunk and feel it, okay? Like I want a cigarette that won't fuck up my head or food that doesn't taste like dirt. Like I want to be alive. Enough for you?"

A smile caressed my lips. So raw, so needy, just like me. "Maybe. Sounds to me you just want to get laid, boyfriend. Why me?"

"Because I dream about you." No hesitation. "I can't stop thinking about you. Sucks to be you, darling, but them's the facts."

God, how romantic. I snickered, secret pleasure tugging at my pulse. "Must be true love."

But he didn't laugh. "You're under my skin, yeah. Don't rush me."

My heart skittered, and I inhaled in a rush. "Tell me your dream, then. Tell me how you'll take me."

Now, he did laugh. "Are you serious?"

I banged his wrists into the bark. "Don't argue. You're a sexy guy, Tam. I'm sure you've got all the lines. Pretend you're not dead, and I'm a hot chick in a bar, or something. Tell me everything you want to do to me."

He squirmed against me, the sensation coloring his skin.

"No guilt, Tam. This is my wish.
I
own this, not you. Tell me."

His dark lashes fluttered, but he didn't close his eyes. He fixed them on me, hot with intent. "You asked." His voice husked, and I shivered. I knew he'd catch on.

"I'll kiss you first. Deep and wet and slow, so I can taste everything. Then your throat, where your pulse is. I want to feel it on my tongue. Then your nipples, God, they're beautiful, I'll take them in my mouth one by one and bite and suck until you scream."

Oh, yeah. Just thinking about it made my nipples swell for want of his tongue. I leaned into him, wriggling for contact. "What else?"

"I'll lick my way down your body and find all the places that turn you on. By then you'll be good and wet, and I'll spread your legs and play with you."

"Mmm. Sounds like fun." I slid my thigh around his hip, pulling myself onto him.

"Just a little at first, to make you beg. I'll stroke you with my fingers, slide them up inside you hard and deep. I'll play with your clit, or make you touch yourself. If you're a good girl I might lick you."

"Yeah?" Deep inside me, muscles rippled in anticipation.

"Uh-huh. But that'll depend."

"On what?"

"On how hard you're begging for my cock."

I groaned against his hot cheek, breathless. God, I loved a man with confidence. Just how I wanted him, dark and forceful, not asking for forgiveness or quarter. I gripped his wrists tighter. "Happy with your own action, aren't you?"

He strained against me, stubborn, but his smile was rich with satisfaction. "Darlin', once I've started with you, you won't know up from sideways. You'll be sobbing for me to make you come. You'll beg me to put it wherever I want. And I will. You'll love it. You'll beg for it. You'll come so hard and long your teeth hurt—"

"Enough." I trembled against him, his wild flavor dangerous in my mouth. The anticipation physically hurt me. My breath hurt in my lungs like a sick fever. My legs already watered and wobbled, and he hadn't even touched me yet.

"Not enough. Never enough for you." His breath scorched my cheek, leaving a damp patch that scintillated in every movement of air. Swiftly he twisted his wrists from my grip, flinging me off balance. I stumbled, gasping, but he dragged me upright by my forearms and twisted my arms behind my back, squashing me against him with no room to spare.

His thigh pressed between mine, angry. For a dead guy, he certainly had no trouble getting a hard-on. Bruising, insistent, full of promise. I'll bet a dead guy takes a long time to come, too. I dove in to take his mouth with mine.

He pulled me away, just an inch. "Slowly, witch."

Already my body wept for release. But he'd make me wait. He'd make me squirm and scream and earn every last spasm. Another shiver swept me, hot and abrasive and delicious. God, I loved control-freak men. I loved pleasing them, submitting to their pleasure and mine. It's who I am.

As slowly as I could manage, I leaned forward and did as he asked.

His lips slid over mine, drawing me on. The familiar, maddening taste of him inflamed me, blood and salt and fresh desire. I opened my mouth, letting him in, and he gave a muffled little groan and kissed me harder. Our teeth scraped together. He grabbed my hair, still holding my wrists with the other hand, and tilted my head back to slide his tongue deeper into my mouth.

God, this was more than I could bear. I felt wild, liberated, untamed. And there was no magic, no itching web of compulsion or inevitability. Just need, raw and overwhelming, shooting like sweet poison through my blood. My chains were broken. Just for these few precious moments, I was a slave no longer.

"God, you're the sexiest woman alive." He traced his hot tongue along the vein in my throat, tasting me. Sparkling heat followed in his wake, and when he found the place where my pulse beat strongest, he sucked it into his mouth.

I gasped, the feeling raw and intense. My nipples thrust hard against his chest. I could feel my vein throbbing on his tongue, his teeth pressing deep into my skin. It was like being devoured. I wanted him to keep doing it.

But he gripped my wrists and tugged me to the ground on top of him. His hair spread darkly on the soft grass. Swiftly he pulled me astride him. I wanted to sit harder on him, grind myself against him, rip my pants off and slide him into me. I wanted him to force me, take me, tell me what to do.

Because he didn't need to say my name, not this one. I didn't need compulsion to want him. I wanted him on me, in me, beside me. All he had to do was ask.

In the dim light, his eyes gleamed, dark pools of fire. Blood stained his face from bright wounds and the ragged edges of cuts. His lips bled, his lashes crusted dark. God, he was beautiful. So dangerous, so vulnerable. Just looking at him made me shiver.