Mojo Queen (22 page)

He shoved me away and I landed on the bed. He glared down at me. “What, like you’d choose to be with someone like me? You and I both know I’m not a nice man, Roxie. I’m not the guy you take home to meet the family.”

“I know what you are.”

“Do you? You sure about that? I’ve done bad things, honey. Plenty of ’em.” He leaned over me, hands on his knees. “And I usually enjoy it. I’m a thief and a liar. I pick fights. I don’t take my meds. I practice dark magic and kinky sex.” He cocked his head, the smirk returning for the first time. “Or is that the attraction? Think it might be fun to get down and dirty with a bad boy? Have me scratch an itch for you, then you get to walk away.”

“That’s not what this is.”

Nodding, he said, “Or maybe you think you can change me. I could be your little experiment. We have fun with bondage games for a while then you start trying to domesticate me. Start dropping hints about me getting a regular job with full benefits, a retirement plan and shit.”

I didn’t like him looming over me, thinking he could intimidate me, so I gave him a push and got to my feet. “If you think that’s what I’m like you clearly have not been paying attention.”

He stretched to his full height, allowing him to loom over me again. “Oh, I’ve been paying attention, all right. That’s why I don’t believe you want me for
me
.”

Now I understood. Oh, boy, did I understand. “Blake.” I reached for his hand.

He took a step back. “I’m not a good person.” He spat the words out like bits of broken glass pulled from a wound. “I got those kids killed. I called them my friends, and I got them killed.”

The starfield of his aura turned into a black hole. “I know what happened. I know all of it. You made a mistake. You trusted the wrong person. That doesn’t make you evil, Blake.”

“Then what does it make me?”

I didn’t know how to answer that. “I’ve had people call me a freak. Tell me I’m marked by the devil. Had a guy tell me once he wouldn’t mind being friends with benefits but we couldn’t go back to his place, in case someone came over. I’m not looking to use you, Blake, and I’m not looking for an excuse for how I feel.”

“You say you understand, that you know who I am. You going to pretend you want me anyway?”

“I’m not pretending.”

“How can you know these things and still want me?” There was equal parts fear and need in his dark eyes.

“None of it matters. Baby, I don’t care.”

He stared at me hard for a long moment. Color washed back into his aura, little blooming star trails. He stepped forward, wrapped an arm around my waist and hauled me to him. I met him with an eager kiss, running my hands over the muscles of his arms and back. He returned my kiss with a fierceness that might have scared me if I hadn’t felt the same. His hands twisted in my hair, our lips bruising each other’s.

We fell to the bed. Blake trapped me underneath him, his hands on either side of my head. Taking control of the kiss, he plundered my mouth with an excruciating slowness. Thorough, deliberate, every sweep of his tongue a promise. His lips trailed across my cheek, down my neck, finding a sensitive spot just above my right collar bone that tore a breathy moan from me. He nipped it with his teeth then ran his tongue across the slight abrasion. Liquid heat flooded my senses and I almost purred.

I brought my hands up to his shoulders, lightly rubbing across the warm skin there and on his upper arms, exploring the ridges of muscle. Raising my head for a kiss, he met my mouth with his. He brushed his lips softly over mine, nibbling, tugging, teasing. Denying me what I wanted, which was another deep bruising endless kiss. Frustration lashing at me, I slid my tongue over the seam of his lips. He drew back, handsome face made positively dangerous with a sexy smirk and dark eyes full of erotic promise.

“Be patient, Roxie,” Blake whispered, voice husky. “I’ll give you my tongue when I want you to have it.” He dipped his head to my left collar bone, finding another sensitive spot and repeating the biting and licking from earlier. “Where I want you to have it.”

I curled my fingers in his hair, trying to pull him up and demand a kiss. He wouldn’t have it. With quick economical movements he dragged us both a little farther down the bed then removed my t-shirt, tossing it to the floor. Gathering my wrists in one strong hand, he held me still as he ghosted his lips over my chest and abdomen. Scraping his teeth against my skin, he flicked his tongue in my belly button, running his mouth across the line of flesh just above the top of my jeans. My body was his instrument as he raised a trance-like rhythm of desire in me.

His eyes met mine and never left as he slid his free hand under my back, nails lightly scoring my skin as he unhooked my bra. In one smooth motion he removed the garment and raised my hands above my head, still holding my wrists. Settling himself half on top and half at my side, he laid the bra across my wrists. The question burned in his eyes and I answered with a single nod, more than happy to give him the surrender he needed. He maintained eye contact as he bound my hands with the bra.

Starting with a firm kiss on my mouth, he began to work his way down. His lips pressed against my jaw, coasted over the hollow of my throat, teased the sides of my breasts. Anticipation wrung a moan from me and he smiled before running his tongue up the side of one breast and taking the nipple between his lips. Delicious heat exploded through me. I writhed under him, wanting the last of our clothes gone, desperate for skin on skin. But Blake was determined to take his time, lavishing attention on first one nipple, then the other, sucking gently at first, then hard enough to make me gasp. The edge of his teeth followed by the silk of his tongue nearly undid me, bringing forth incoherent noises full of need.

I cried out in protest when he moved away. Blake unzipped my jeans and I raised my hips so he could work the last of my clothes off. Dropping a light kiss on the top of one foot, his fingers traced patterns on the other. He worked his way slowly up my legs that way, lips on one while a hand caressed the other. I watched as he advanced, his dark aura shimmering with the silver and heliotrope that indicated lust in him. One day I’d have to ask him why his colors for sex were different than what I was used to but right then, I didn’t care. I shivered as his lips reached my inner thigh.

The first faint touch of his tongue on my most sensitive spot sent a tidal wave of sensation all through my body. My head fell back against the bed, hands flexing in their binding. His big hands gripped my thighs as I twisted under his ministrations. My brain shut down and all I could do was ride the spiraling energy he created with his tongue and his fingers and my flesh until I shattered with a hoarse scream.

I lay there trembling with aftershocks. Blake kissed his way up my belly, my breasts and the column of my neck. He finally gave me the kiss I’d been so desperate for earlier, his tongue tasting of my own smoky flavor. I curled against him, drawing one leg around his to bring him closer, his jeans rough against my skin. He untied my wrists, rubbing all over my hands and arms.

He stilled. I sensed a change in his mood and struggled to form words. “What is it, baby?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, dropping a soft kiss on my cheek. “What’s my aura look like right now?”

I widened my eyes in surprise. “You want to talk about your aura? Now? Really?”

He laid his head on my shoulder. “I just wondered what you see when you look at me.”

“I see stars.” I drew out the last word to accentuate the Southern in my voice, feeling silly and relaxed. “Supernovas. Nebulas.” I shifted to my side and captured his mouth for a long kiss. His fingers swept across my cheek and I saw the tentative smile he wore didn’t reach his eyes. “Why did you ask?”

He took a slow, deep breath. “Space is black without all that color. Dark and empty.”

I shook my head. “Not empty. There’s way too much else there. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not scared of the dark, and I’m not scared of what else is in you, either.”

He rested his head in the crook of my shoulder again. I held him, running my fingers through his hair. Scared he might sink back down into the dark fears that haunted him, I wanted to let him know we weren’t through here. I ran my hand lightly over his chest, careful of the bandages but enjoying the tickle of dark hair. His smile widened and bright purple mushroomed through his aura like an exploding star. We kissed, a slow carnal dance. I let one hand wander down the trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans, fumbling with the buttons until I gained access. Slipping inside, I skated the tips of my fingers across velvety skin before wrapping my hand around the hot thick evidence of his desire. He groaned into my mouth and the tenor of our kiss ramped up to a thundering hunger.

Energy wove around and between us. I had no idea if it was deliberate on his part, or just a byproduct of magic being so deeply ingrained in both our natures. Whatever caused it, I didn’t fight it. There was nothing I wanted more than to be in Blake’s arms.

He rolled me onto my back, then left the bed to remove his jeans. I leaned over, trying to reach the messenger bag and the condoms I’d placed there. He seemed to understand and retrieved the bag for me. Withinmoments he returned and I wrapped myself around him to keep him from leaving again. Twisting one hand in my hair, he stared at me. Gold flecks sparked in his dark eyes, though his expression remained unreadable. I reached between our bodies to guide him into me, quivering as we joined.

Blake held nothing back. I met his ardor with my own, urging him to give me everything he had. All of his hunger, all of his passion, the joy he took in his own pleasure as well as mine, even his fear and his doubt, and yes, even his darkness, too. His name fell from my lips as I peaked again, his given name, but in the deepest part of me his ritual name Kalidas stamped itself on my soul.

The black starfield of his aura rippled as he shuddered with his own release. A deep twilight blue filled the black, streaked with ribbons of dark magenta and pearlescent drops of silver. He collapsed at my side, the sound of his ragged breathing filling the room. For a moment he looked like he wanted to say something, but he shook his head and kept silent.

After some time, he relaxed into an exhausted slumber. I snuggled next to him but wouldn’t let myself fall asleep. Scared of what the morning might hold, I wanted as much time with Blake as possible, even if it was just to watch him sleep.

* * * *

Leaving Blake sleeping and going back to the prison to look for Delia alone was probably not the smartest idea I had ever had, but hell. I had a job to do. I also didn’t call in my vampire wingman, but then he couldn’t really fly. As I drove out of the motel parking lot I asked myself why I couldn’t wait one more night, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. Maybe it was fear of more damage being done to people I cared about. Maybe it was a stubborn insistence to defeat her on my own. Whatever it was, it led me back to that awful place shortly before dawn. This time I would have to go inside.

It was no surprise Delia liked the old prison. The place had been a hell-hole for a century, leaving plenty of dark energy behind for her to soak up. Armed with a flashlight, a mojo hand, various herbs, a jar of salt and a section torn out of a bible, I went looking for the demon.

As soon as I found a way inside I wished for some allergy pills. Black mold attacked my sinuses so bad I knew I’d be sick for days. Assuming I lived. Peeling paint, broken tiles and glass, junk strewn everywhere, the place was a wreck, spooky as hell too, in the pre-dawn darkness. Not wanting to trip over anything, I left on my glasses but positioned them low on my nose so I could easily keep an eye on the auric spectrum as well.

I went through the medical building and a cellblock before finding any trace of her. Spiders, blood, and the same kind of black smears I’d seen in the hospital. I followed the residual energy trace to what was known as the Death House, the location of the old electric chair.

Delia was singing an old hymn somewhere in the pitch black. I swung the flashlight around, finding her cross-legged on the floor behind the chair. I poured a small salt circle around myself as she switched from the hymn to
Polk Salad Annie
.

Determined not to let her rankle me, or at least not show it, I said, “That’s a lovely singing voice you have, Delia.”

She kept right on singing as if she hadn’t heard me. I let her finish the song and jumped in with a request. “Know any Johnny Cash? He did a show here once back in the seventies, you know.”

“I won’t let you take him away from me.” Very quiet, the small voice of an insecure young girl.

I wasn’t buying it. “Honey, I took him away the first time we met.”

A flash of rage slipped out of her, erupting fist-sized fireballs in the air before she regained composure. I made note of her lack of control, hoping it would work in my favor. The temperature dropped, my breath fogging. Party time. I reached inside myself to the source of my power and sent my will into the protective salt circle and the mojo hand at my belt. My auric vision showed the energy weaving itself around me, shimmering tracks of faint blue light.

The first spirit was a screamer, and foul-mouthed too. It hurled obscenities at me from the other side of the circle’s barrier, a gray haze of rage suggesting the shape of a man. Rather than call me names, the next one described in great detail what it would like to do to me, which was much more disconcerting. More spirits materialized, yelling and moaning and all full of fury. They swarmed around the circle, testing its boundaries. A few of them began to throw themselves against it, sending sparks through the air when they bounced. The circle held, and though I could have kicked myself for coming without backup I stayed calm.

With no warning they were gone. One moment the room echoed with screams, the next absolute silence reigned. Now I got nervous. I knelt, careful of the salt, and started pulling herbs from my bag.

“You know you can’t stay,” I said. “I don’t care why this girl agreed to be your host. You can’t stay.”