The Order Boxed Set (103 page)

She wouldn’t ruin this last night worrying about something that was inevitable.

Except it wasn’t inevitable. She had a choice.

Yet despite the fun she’d had these last weeks, or maybe because of it, she knew she wouldn’t go back.

Carl was going to be angry. And, she suspected, a little bit upset. That now familiar warm fuzzy feeling washed over her—she’d never thought that there would be anyone who cared enough to be upset at her dying.

She was almost tempted to go back, give them another week or two. But she knew that would taint what had been an almost perfect three weeks. She’d never had anyone of her own, anyone to love. And she did love him. Deeply. Madly. But she was never going to tell him that. She didn’t want to make it any harder for him when she…went.

Carl claimed he didn’t understand her, but deep down she knew he did, knew that
he
would never submit to a life of slavery. He’d said he would talk to Asmodai, that they would work something out, that she wouldn’t have to work for the demon anymore, just return to the Abyss often enough that the sigil wouldn’t do its stuff.

But even if Asmodai agreed, and let her come and go as she pleased, she would still belong to him. She’d never be free.

And she couldn’t live with that anymore.

Her whole being—her heart, her soul—raged against it.

She shook her head.

It’s our last night. Don’t think about it.

They had almost worked their way through her bucket list.

Only two things left.

She hadn’t had a drink—Carl claimed he hated alcohol—that his mother had been an alcoholic, and he never touched the stuff. So she hadn’t either. Though she was aware, with some part of her subconscious, that there was something wrong with the reasoning, something she was ignoring. But like everything else in this temporary life of hers—such as the scent of sulfur that often lingered on the air, the crimson that tainted her vision, her increased speed and strength, and other things she couldn’t explain—she didn’t inspect her doubts too closely. Didn’t want anything upsetting her little idyll.

The second last thing was making love in the ocean. Carl had claimed the Mediterranean was too cold for making love, and that his dick would shrivel up. So after Africa they’d gotten on a plane and headed for the Caribbean. Now she stood on the deck of a boat, no land in sight, surrounded by the turquoise sea as the sun set, shading it to red and gold.

She sensed him come up behind her.

“Shera…?”

Another round of persuasion? She could hear it in his voice, and she didn’t want that. She wanted this perfect moment. Turning, she rested her hands on his shoulders, rose up on tiptoe, and kissed his mouth, stopping the words that hovered there. For a moment he went still against her, and then he sank into the kiss, his tongue filling her mouth with hot wet kisses, cutting off her oxygen until she was dizzy with need.

She lowered her hands and reached behind her to tug on the tie holding her bikini top in place, pulling it free. She repeated the process with the bows at her hips, then she was naked. One down, one to go.

Resting both hands at his waist, she slid them down until she met the edge of his shorts, pushing her fingers inside. His breath hitched under the kiss, but he did nothing to stop her as she shoved the shorts down, pulling them free as they snagged on his erection. He kicked them off, and she backed away from the kiss, sank to her knees, and took him in her mouth, loving the salty taste of him as she sucked. Gripping his shaft in one hand, she ran her tongue over the head and along the steely shaft.

“Jesus.” His hand slid around to cup her head, hold her against him. Then his fingers loosened. “Stop,” he muttered, and she peered up the length of his body.

“Isn’t there something we’re supposed to be doing?” he asked.

Not waiting for an answer, he stepped back, gripped her shoulders, and hauled her to her feet. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the railings, raised her a little higher, and dropped her over the edge.

She hit the water with a crash, and sank beneath the surface. At the last moment she snatched a final breath and clamped her lips together. The warm water closed over her head, and she drifted downward. Finally, she stopped sinking, gave a little kick, and floated to the surface. As she broke into the air, something large slammed into the water beside her. She blinked the salt from her eyes as a hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged her under once again.

She came up spluttering and laughing as Carl surfaced beside her. His hands gripped her waist and drew her close until the scorching hot length of his erection pressed against her belly.

“You want?” he whispered in her ear.

Oh yeah. I want
.

In answer, she wrapped her legs around his hips, grinding her sex against his hard shaft, the pressure against her swollen clit sending pleasure rolling through her. Carl’s hands gripped her ass, lifting her a little until the head of his cock nudged at her opening. He pushed inside her with one hard flex of his hips. She gasped as he filled her completely, her head falling back, hair floating around her. The water was buoyant, holding them up, their only contact his hands on her hips, his cock deep inside her. The silky soft water caressed her skin, lapping over her breasts, teasing her nipples. Closing her eyes, she let sensation wash away all the thoughts in her head, the world reduced to nothing but pleasure. She reveled in the slow build up, the tightening in her belly, the shivers running along her nerves, until suddenly it all contracted then burst into a million parts. His hands shifted her closer, rubbing her clit against his body, and the pleasure was never ending.

She vaguely felt him come, pulsing inside her, his hands shifting, wrapping around her, pulling her close, and then they were sinking below the water, entwined as one. She kept her eyes open, studying the fractured light. For a long while she thought they might continue sinking, never come up, and she wanted that, really wanted it. But that wasn’t fair. She had made her choice, but she couldn’t take Carl with her. She kicked her legs at the same time he did, and their downward movement slowed. Another kick and they were rising.

She was gasping for oxygen by the time they broke the surface. They both heaved in gulps of warm sea-scented air.

“You don’t want to die,” he said.

“I didn’t want
you
to die. Now shut up, and don’t spoil it.”

He opened his mouth, but must have seen something in her face because he closed it again.

The sun had set as they made love, and above them the stars were coming out. They floated on their backs, only the fingers of one hand connecting them, and stared up at the sky. She felt warm, sated, happy to float forever. But in the end, Carl turned and towed her back to the boat.

She admired his firm ass as he climbed the ladder, then grasped the hand he held out to her. He heaved her to the deck, drew her close, and kissed her. She was still in some dream state as he picked her up and laid her down on a pile of cushions on the deck.

“I want to taste the salt on your skin,” he said as he followed her down.

He lay between her thighs, shifting her legs wider apart, lowering his head to stroke his tongue across her tight nipples. A shiver of pleasure ran through her, settling between her legs. He moved lower, licking her flat belly, blowing warm air over the curls at the base. All her muscles locked up tight as she waited, her breath catching in her throat. Then he kissed her—long wet, French kisses, using his tongue and lips, parting her sex, finding the swollen nub, caressing it with his tongue.

The pleasure spiraled again. In seconds she was out of control. She hovered on the edge of orgasm, and he backed away, placing little kisses lower, pushing his tongue inside her, then going back to suckle her clit, this time not stopping until she tipped over the edge and came screaming.

…

Carl woke the next morning in their bed in the hotel room. The French windows were open, filling the room with early morning sunlight and the salty scent of the sea.

Shera lay curled against his side like a kitten, still sleeping.

For a few seconds he felt truly content. He could happily spend eternity waking up like this.

The happiness didn’t last. Because he wasn’t going to get eternity. If Shera, the stubborn little cat, had her way, they wouldn’t have another morning.

If she didn’t go back, this was her last day.

Something broke inside him at the thought of her dying.

He’d always gone his own way—been a lone wolf and proud of it. Now he didn’t want to be alone any longer. This was new, and he had no clue whether they would make it together in the long run. But he wanted desperately to try.

She was coming to care for him, but it wasn’t enough. Plus, she believed if she went back that made her unworthy in some way. He suspected it was partly the changes she was going through, the latent powers awakening.

No, she wouldn’t return. She’d rather die.

There was powerful blood running in her veins. Blood that would bow down to no one.

Ash had said under no circumstances to tell her about the demon thing. But if that was what was driving her decisions, then he would tell her, and he’d somehow deal with the fallout. But there was one more thing he could try first.

Part of him understood her reluctance to go back. The thought of enslaving himself to anyone, however benign that slavery, was anathema to him. Which made what he was about to do one of the stupidest decisions of his entire existence. But sometimes there really was no choice.

He slipped out of bed without waking her, grabbed his shorts from the floor, and went into the living area, closing the door behind him. His cell phone was on the table, and he picked it up. Ash had been trying to contact him numerous times since their last call. Now Carl hit return.

Ash answered immediately. “Where the fuck are you? Do you realize she’s dead in about one fucking hour? Just tell me you’re on your way. I’ll come and get you. Shit, Faith will fucking kill me if she dies.”

“She won’t come back.”

“Which part of drug her and bring her the fuck back did you not understand?”

“I won’t force her.”

There was silence for a full minute. “Christ, you fucking love her. Please tell me that’s just my imagination conjuring up the worst possible scenario.”

Carl scrubbed his hand through his short hair and shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t know. I care about her, though. And she saved my life. And she deserves—”

“Shut the fuck up. This is a nightmare, and did I mention—Faith will kill me.”

“I might have a solution.”

“Really? A solution? Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”

Carl took a deep breath. “You told me that the only way to get rid of the sigil was if someone volunteered to take it.”

Another silence, then, “Let me get this straight—
you’re
volunteering?”

He swallowed. Why couldn’t the fucker agree before he lost his nerve? “Yes. Not to wash your goddamned socks or anything like that, but…yes.”

“You understand—you’ll be tied to me, tied to the Abyss. I might not ask you to wash my socks, but if you piss me off…”

“Fuck off, Ash.” But he could hear the underlying excitement in the demon’s voice. “Just tell me—will it work?”

“I don’t see why not. But all three of us have to be present. Give me your coordinates—I’m on my way.”

A minute later, Carl stood looking down on the sleeping Shera. She gave a little moan as he slipped the handcuff around her right wrist and fastened the other to the brass bedstead; he wasn’t risking her disappearing before Ash got here.

As the cuff clicked shut, she blinked open her eyes. A smile started to curl the corners of her lips, then stopped. Instead, her brows drew together in a frown, and her eyes narrowed. She glanced from his face to the silver cuff on her arm. “Please don’t do this. You promised you wouldn’t take me back by force.”

“And I won’t.” Actually, he wasn’t even sure he could anymore. She had grown stronger by the day.

She rattled the cuff. “So what’s this?”

“I didn’t want you disappearing before Ash gets here.”

“Asmodai is coming?” Her eyes widened. “You’re going to hand me over, and he’ll take me back. How could you?” Her voice rose and crimson glints flashed in her eyes. “How—”

“Shut up and listen to me for one minute.”

She did, clamping her lips together to stop the words escaping. She visibly pulled herself together, sitting up and wrapping the sheet around her breasts. Then she gave him a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

Carl sat on the bed beside her, took her free hand, and stroked a finger along her palm. “I’ve agreed to take the sigil.”

The frown was back. “What? How?”

“Apparently, it’s the only way to remove it—if someone agrees, voluntarily, to take it from you.” He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat at the thought of handing his life over. Losing his freedom.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about it first?”

He didn’t want to talk about it. Hell, he didn’t even want to think about it. “What is there to talk about? It’s happening.”

“And I get no say?”

“No. Hey, the way I understand it is, I have to volunteer, you just have to sit there.”

“Never going to happen. I won’t let you enslave yourself for me. You’d hate it, and you’d come to hate me.”

“Who knows what will happen? But being with you these last weeks has changed everything. I thought I didn’t do relationships—now I can’t bear the thought of being without you. And I certainly can’t live with myself if I stand by and watch you burn.”

“My choice.”

He gave a pointed glance at the cuff on her wrist. “Not anymore.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m a goddamn cat shifter. Do you really think cuffs are going to hold me?”

Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. He pressed a finger to the spot between his eyes. “Christ, my brain’s not working.”

“No, it’s not. That’s why you’re making stupid freaking decisions. Decisions that you’ll regret as soon as they’re done. Now let me go.”