Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) (32 page)

***

It wasn’t until we were back in the temple that Daemon stopped and took a breath. I sat in the cart, my head buzzing pleasantly and watched him turn his back on me, watched as his shoulders heaved. He shook his head.

“We are so fucked.” He said the words so softly that I almost didn’t hear them. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have heard them if I wasn’t sensitised from my little shadow snack.

I climbed out of the cart, even though I wanted to leap out. Control. I needed to control the buzz.

“We can go back. We can try again. I think I can do it now. I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened in there.”

I rubbed the palms of my hands against my thighs, my gaze straying to the entrance of the mine. I could hear the steady whoosh of blood in my veins as it surged to the surface of every capillary in my body, as if it were trying to jump out of my skin, leak through my pores and slide back into the mine, back to the Shadows.

“We have to go back.” The raw desperation in my voice brought me up short.

He turned on me. “No! We are done!”

I knew he was right. On some level I knew that going back was a terrible idea, but that level was buried under the simmering need for more. “What? Why? ’Cos I messed up? Look, I’m new at this—”

He lunged at me and I backed up, but not fast enough. He grabbed my arm in a vicelike grip and patted my stomach.

“Your suit, it’s torn.”

I fingered the tear and the flesh beneath . . . unwounded flesh. “Strange, I was sure something cut me, a rock or something.”

Daemon inhaled, and then his eyes popped open. “Aether, you reek of it.”

“Well, we have been in an Aether mine, so . . .” I lifted a shoulder.

“We need to go.”

“Back into the mine?” Shit, what was wrong with me? Think, dammit! I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut tight then popping them open.

“No. Those things . . . they weren’t Shadows.”

I knew he was right, I could feel it in my gut, and I’d seen it, the face that had bared its teeth. I’d ripped the Shadow from it before consuming it. “What are they?”

“What did you hear before you stepped into the tunnel?”

This time I didn’t try and brush the voice off. The warning had been true and whether it had come from my crazy mind, or an outside source, it deserved props for being right.

“I heard a voice. It warned me not to come any closer. It told me to run.”

Daemon’s jaw clenched. “So you decided to do the opposite.”

“Hey! I thought it was in my head, you know, my fear manifesting and all that. Besides we have a deal with the nobles, remember?”

He cocked his head. “But you paused to listen. You’ve heard voices before.”

Great, now he just made me sound crazy. “Look, it doesn’t matter. What we need to figure out is what we’re going to tell the council. Have you any idea what those things were?”

“Shades. They were Shades.”

“And what’s that?”

Daemon’s chest heaved. “Our time’s up.”

The clatter of footsteps echoed through the circular chamber, my heart dropped into my boots, and the pleasant buzz evaporated completely.

We were so screwed.

It was cold and damp and my stomach was a hollow pit of churning emotions, the predominant of which was terror. I’d lost track of time, a day and a half perhaps? Who’d have thought waiting to be executed could be so excruciating. I just hoped that it would be quick, painless. Who was I kidding? When was death ever easy, especially when you knew it was coming?

This was all my fault. I should never have come. The Bernie I’d come to save was gone. I knew that now for certain. The Bernie I had found in her place was an Infernan noble first and human second. He hadn’t even bothered to argue my case. His indifference still stung. They’d refused to believe us. Excuses, they’d said. There were no Shades any longer, whatever that meant. Daemon had tried to argue for us, for me, but it had been futile.

Daemon broke the silence. “You should have taken him up on his offer.”

“What? You have to be joking!”

“You would have lived. Would it have been so bad?”

Would it have been so bad? Bernie had offered me his home, a place by his side. In return, all I needed to do was become his slave, officially at least. He’d take me under his protection and petition for my pardon. All I needed to do was forget my home, forget Clay, and forget Daemon. “Yeah, all I had to do was agree to be his bitch. Fuck that.”

“Yes, you said that already.” His voice sounded funny—thicker.

I chuckled. “I did, didn’t I?” To Bernie’s face. Ah, that gorgeous face had twisted into something altogether frightening, and those eyes, usually warm and inviting, had turned distant and cold.

His parting words had been like a slap. “You were always a tease, and I have no room in my life for games. Better you die with your abomination.” His lips had curved in a knowing smile. Disconcerting because I didn’t know what he was smiling about, and then he’d said, “Abominations don’t have time for prick teases either.”

Now I was rotting in the epitome of a dark, dank cell, which was ironic because Inferna was anything but dank. I guess cells everywhere had that in common. And the smell! I was certain something had died in there, was maybe still in the cell with me. I wasn’t brave enough to investigate the shadowy recesses of our shared prison. I sat propped up against the stone slabs of the wall, the hard packed earthen ground cold and slightly damp against the fabric of my body suit.

“How much longer do you think they’ll make us wait before they . . . you know?”

Daemon didn’t say anything

“Daemon?” I peered into the gloom, trying to gauge his expression.

“It won’t be long now . . . for you.”

“Huh?”

He shifted position and I caught sight of something that made my cheeks heat and my blood freeze at the same time. Daemon groaned and rolled onto his side, away from me. Hiding an erection.

Oh, Mother, okay, he was horny. That didn’t make sense. How could he be horny at a time like this?

He’s an Incubus, stupid.

Clay! Thank the Mother. I needed his level head right now.

Yeah, part Incubus, but they said that he can control it. Orgies once a month, remember?

Yeah, once a month around a full moon.

Oh shit! The moon, yesterday . . . it had been almost full.

Time passes differently in Inferna.

I am so screwed.

You really know how to choose your words.

Fuck it!

There you go again.

Daemon’s shoulders were rising and falling rapidly. He was fighting it. I gnawed at my bottom lip. I honestly didn’t know what to do. If I called out to him, then I’d be asking for his attention. Maybe staying as silent and small as I could would be the best bet. Had they planned this? The nobles. Or maybe it had been Brialla’s idea. Either way, Bernie had known! When he’d said that abominations didn’t have time for prick teases, this is what he’d been referring to. My eyes stung and I blinked back the tears. How could he hate me this much? How could he have changed this much?

Daemon growled.

I pressed myself back up against the stone wall, not caring about the damp, or the feel of the black stuff growing on it. Please, please fight it.

He went dead still, and I thought, that’s it, he’s done it, he’s got it under control, but in the next instant, he was up on all fours, his head tucked in, his back arching, and then the weirdest shit happened, so weird that I couldn’t find the breath to scream. The silk shirt he was wearing tore open from collar to hem in one swoosh. I caught sight of dark flesh.

Crimson.

The image of him barrelling toward the lift, determined to get to me, flashed through my mind. The crimson, the enlarged canines, the . . . tail?

As if summoned to life by my memory of it, the tail appeared, starting as a bud at the base of his spine and then shooting out, thickening and thrashing against the ground as if searching for something.

I was stuck to the wall in bone-crushing fear. I wanted to
be
the wall, anything inanimate, anything but me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was done for. There was no escaping him this time. There were no girls to have gone before me, no one to sate his hunger, no one to bring him close enough to the surface to recognise when I’d say no.

This was the beast inside, the primal, undeniable sexual entity that would not be swayed with pleas or tears. This was a predator and I was the prey.

I watched, helpless as his transformation was complete: the crimson skin, the long powerful tail, the fangs and the dark fingernails. He remained on all fours, his body heaving with each breath. Sweat glistened on his shoulders. His hair had come loose of its tie. It hung down, obscuring his face. I really needed to see that face. I needed to see some spark of humanity. I got my first wish a moment later when he tipped his head to the side and speared me with blazing silver orbs.

His lips curled in a half snarl. “Neeeed . . .”

There was no humanity in that face. Nothing but hunger. He reached down and unbuckled his trousers, pushed them down and then kicked them off. His arousal was painfully evident.

He lunged.

I screamed, raising my arms to deflect, and then he touched me and every cell in my body came alive.

He pulled me toward him, up against his naked body. His hands ran over me, stroking, soothing. He kissed the side of my face and ran his tongue from my chin to forehead.

I closed my eyes and revelled in the sensations going off in my nether regions. This was wrong, but I needed this, I wanted this. I could have this. What had I been so afraid of? I couldn’t remember. His tongue, his hands, his fingers were driving me insane with lust.

On some level, I knew this was his allure, his power to make me want him, to make it pleasurable. I knew that if I wanted, I could fight the allure, but I also knew that to do so would take me back to being afraid, and I much preferred this. The electric feeling that made me feel invincible. I would die under his attentions, I knew this, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad this way. Maybe . . .

His fingers tightened on my hips and his body went rigid. “I . . . I can’t stop.” He released me to grab at his own skull, pulling at his hair and keening.

The electric feeling began to ebb. I hugged myself, coming to my senses, coming back to the fear.

He was trying to control it and it was hurting him.

“It’s not real . . . only been a few days . . . this moon doesn’t count . . . aaaaahhhh!”

He reached down and grasped his erection. It was huge. My mouth went dry and then I was wet. This was all me, not him. My body was reacting to his arousal all on its own.

You want him, you know it. He needs you, so why not?

That new voice again, the one that sounded like me.

He’s going to fuck you. He won’t be able to hold off much longer, so why put him through the pain of fighting it? It’s inevitable, the sex. But you can be in control; you could fuck him . . . make him your bitch.

My core throbbed and heat filled my veins. The voice was right. This was happening, but it was happening on my terms, and if I died, that would be on my terms too.

I got up on my knees and shuffled over to Daemon. He lifted his head, that hungry look in his eyes again, and this time, he looked right at me, as if he was seeing me. I gasped, and he took my mouth with his, devouring my exhalation and pressing me to the rough ground. I let his need overwhelm me, let the electricity take me, bucking under him as he sucked on my neck, all the while pawing at my impregnable suit. I had to get this thing off. I needed to feel his hands on my skin. I fumbled for the zip, yanking it down as far as I could. Daemon did the rest, pushing it aside. His rough hands slid over my skin and onto my breasts, his mouth took the place of his hands and I lost all coherent thought. The desire was too strong, and I rode it, threading my fingers in his hair, yanking his head back to claim his mouth.

My turn.

I pushed him onto his back and then climbed up, straddling him. His cock rubbed against my suit and I rode it, rubbing myself against him through the fabric until I was panting with the need to come. He cupped my butt with his huge hands and urged me to go faster.

I reached down between us to rub the head of his cock, slick and ready. I slid off him and pulled off my suit, kicking it away. My knickers were stuck to me with arousal, and I peeled those off too. His nostrils flared as his eyes raked over my body, and then I was on my back and he was positioned between my legs, thick and long and heavy. I ran my hands down his spine and found the base of his tail. He curled it up and around so that I could stroke it. It should have felt weird, but it didn’t. It felt fucking amazing! Daemon moaned into my neck as I ran my fingers across the rough ridges of his tail. His cock throbbed and I shifted to angle myself better. I needed him inside me. I needed him now.

He shook his head in the hollow of my neck. “. . . kill you . . . too much for one. I need . . . too much!”

I heard the conflict in his tone, felt it in his body and I knew it didn’t matter. I cupped his face and urged him to look at me, and then I kissed him, soft and reassuring. That kiss told him I understood, that I was sorry, and that I didn’t blame him for what he was. It told him that it was okay to take what he needed. He kissed me back, tentative at first, then with a hunger that frightened me. His hands pinned me to the ground, and I knew this was it, the beginning of my death. But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt a tug in my solar plexus, a tingle in my arms and legs and Daemon gasped into my mouth, stealing my breath and making me see black dots in my vision. The tug turned into an ache and then it was gone.

Daemon rolled off me and lay on his back beside me.

I lay very still, staring up at the stone ceiling. My body ached with dissatisfaction, but I knew that something had changed in Daemon.

“What did you do?” he asked.

I blinked up at the ceiling, still spiralling down from the high. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down on me. His eyes were still focused and they ran over my face, lingering as if mapping every detail.