Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) (10 page)

“Affection,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “He definitely lacks affection from anyone.”

She would have to be tender with the demon, to convince him to trust her, and the last thing she wanted to be with Tensley Knight was tender.

TENSLEY DODGED AGAIN
and let out an angry sigh.
Damn it
.

Illya rolled up his sleeves and fixed his stance, smirking. “C’mon, Tensley.”

Tensley threw his upper body forward and the fight began again, the sounds of flesh hitting solid flesh filling the room.

“Whoa!” Illya jumped as Tensley swung an arm out, just missing his eardrum. “Man, you need to relax.”

Tensley growled, twisting to flip Illya over his shoulder, and slammed the blond demon flat onto the mat.

Tensley drew back, panting, before putting his hand out to Illya. “Sorry.”

Once Illya was up, Tensley walked away, fetching his glass of water.

Illya coughed, still winded from Tensley’s tackle. “You okay, man? You seem a bit…tense today.”

“I’m fine.” Tensley took a large gulp of water. Tugging his fingers through his wet hair, he took another gulp.

Illya eyed him. “How’s Molly?”

Tensley’s whole body tensed, and he thought of breaking the glass in his fist. “Fucking great.” He slammed the glass onto the table. “She won’t even let me near her with a ten-foot pole—how the hell am I supposed to protect her?”

“I’m sure your bitter attitude and the fact you killed that warlock in front of her aren’t exactly pleading your case.” Illya walked over and placed a hand on the table. “Well, she’s not like the women from our society. The others knew who you were. They knew your background, your family, and your status. She isn’t one of us. She’s practically human, and you know you have to be gentle with her. If anything,” Illya said, airing out his shirt by shaking it, “she’s afraid of you.”

Tensley thought back to when she had asked him why he couldn’t be like Illya. He hated how much that comment stung. As a kid, he had
tried
to be like Illya. That fucking backfired with a heavy hand, resulting in a scolding from his parents for showing any form of weakness. Although Illya and he were both demons, they were in completely different situations. Tensley lifted his shirt over his drenched head and threw it to the side.

The two of them began to walk through Tensley’s penthouse out onto the luxurious porch, surrounded by a plethora of sweet-smelling flowers and plants.

“If I don’t mark her, the others are going to find out she exists,” Tensley snapped. “The moment I take off that charmed ring for the engagement one, the invisibility will be gone completely.
Everyone
will find her. Not that it’s doing much good now, anyway. But if I don’t give her our family ring soon, Father will know I haven’t done anything to her yet.”

Illya sighed, his damp blond locks falling onto his forehead as they leaned against the iron railing, gazing at the landscape of Manhattan—the blaring cars, shining curves of steel, and dots of foliage that offered shades of green amongst the stone. “You’ll just have to get her to trust you.”

“So fake it?” Tensley cocked a brow.

“Or you could actually be a decent guy and build something,” Illya said.

“I’ve seduced her or tried to,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead hard. “To cooperate.”

Illya frowned. “You didn’t…”

“So I used my pheromones to be drawn to me, no real harm done,” he spat, glaring at Central Park in the distance. “At least she’s attractive.”

“She definitely is. But maybe if you take her out for dinner, woo her, find out what she likes, make her like you without sending off pheromones to
sway
her, you’d have better luck?”

Tensley snarled in his throat. “A date,” he huffed, rubbing his temples.

“I could even take that friend of hers out, too,” Illya said, studying a scar on his left hand.

Tensley’s eyes narrowed at his so-called friend.
I’ll be fucking damned.
“You mean the big-mouthed broad?” Illya smiled sheepishly, and Tensley threw a hand up in frustration. “You gotta be kidding me! She’s a bitch. You saw what she did. Tried to wring me by the neck!”
So much for loyalty.

“She was protecting her friend from you,” Illya said. “And no, I wasn’t thinking of her that way. I was just trying to help you out.”

Tensley was silent as he thought of taking his fiancée on a date. He didn’t want to, but if he was able to protect her sooner, it was better than using his tactics again and being returned to his regular life. “Fine. Meet me at that Italian restaurant we both like—on Madison Avenue by that crappy sushi place. I’m going back to the daemon’s house to take a shower there. Give the guys on watch duty a break.”

“How many do you have watching over the house?”

“Three during the day, four at night.” Foot soldiers of the Scorpios were assigned to look after the house—and Tensley would personally deal with them if they didn’t keep their mouths shut.

Tensley left shortly after. Jogging shirtless through the streets of New York City, he made his way back to the dreadful townhouse.

The Darlings lived in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. They were well off—not as well off as
his
family, but still above average. The street was lined with high-class townhouses, with hers being the only one built in white brick. It still looked the same as the first time he’d seen it, fourteen years before.

The foyer was nice—if you loved floral designs and a purple-vomit color. God, Mr. Darling was whipped. It had definitely been decorated by a woman, and probably a drunken one. He had noted the last few days her parents hadn’t been home and he shook his head at the lack of loyalty. His family lived by it, survived by it.

Tensley made his way up the elegant staircase and down the hallway. Light was seeping from underneath Molly’s bedroom door, and he frowned. He opened the door but found no one. His eyes darted to the closed door of the bathroom, and he heard the water running.
Showering?
Her soft flesh came to mind, the few freckles that dotted her collarbone, her wavy blonde hair wet and slick down her back.

He heard a faint sob and glanced at the closed door.

She’s crying?

An ache throbbed deep in his core and he rolled his shoulders. He knew whatever she was crying about led back to him. He’d give anything to be Illya in that moment.

Slowly, he walked around the bedroom, examining her items. He fell onto the bed, but the pillow wasn’t soft. He reached underneath and pulled out the knife she had threatened him with. He smirked and felt the sharp tip with his thumb.

The bathroom door opened, and Tensley glanced up, surprised to see so much exposed, creamy skin. A white towel hugged Molly’s generous curves, and her skin glistened, wet and smooth. Her face went red; even her button nose turned rosy.

“What are you doing?” Molly’s naked eyes widened when she saw the knife in his hands.

Tensley stuffed the knife back under the pillow and patted it for good measure. “You might want to hurry up; we’re going out tonight.”

Molly’s mouth unhinged, then she screwed it shut as her brows furrowed. “We are?”

“September and Illya are coming, too.”

“Oh god.” She rubbed at her wide forehead with a dainty hand. Her long, pale locks were already waving around her heart-shaped face, and her lips were plump and bright red—Tensley looked away instantly when he recognized he was gawking far too much. Looking at her body was fine, but memorizing her features wasn’t.

Too intimate.

Too personal.

“I need to shower.” He pushed himself up and strolled toward the guest bathroom.

It didn’t take long for him to get freshened up with a shower, a bit of cologne, and an understated outfit of black slacks and a pristine dress shirt. When he entered the bedroom again, Molly was sitting up on her bed, her trench coat tied tightly around her waist, emphasizing her hourglass shape and wrung her hands in her lap.

“Plotting against me?” he said. Molly flinched, rare daemon eyes wide. He hesitated, his body slowing from seeing her without her sunglasses. He sat down beside the defenseless thing, and she edged back.
God, she really is terrified of me.

Her phone beeped, and before she could reach it, he grasped it from behind them. “Hey!” she shouted, perturbed.

SEPTEMBER

5:42 P.M.

You’re going to have to hold me back from strangling him.

Tensley laughed and glanced up from the phone. Molly’s normally flushed face grew bloodless. “What is this about?”

“She really doesn’t like you,” she muttered.

He put her phone down. “Why are you friends with her?”

Molly’s eyes caught his, and he swore they were glistening. Then her lashes dropped, lying on her cheeks as they regained their rosiness. “September was the only one who accepted me when we were kids. She’s my best friend. When everyone made fun of me, she told them to stop. She liked me for
me
.”

“Then why are you friends with that Stella girl?”

She stilled and frowned at him. “How do you know Stella?”

He thumbed his lip. “I did my research.”

Her mouth twisted ruefully, but she continued. “My parents thought they were protecting me—forcing us to be friends. They thought Stella would protect me.”

One thing I fucking understand.
His parents had forced him to be friends with so many demons he didn’t care for—Illya was the only one he could truly call his friend. In their society, intermingling with humans was looked down upon, and incubi families of similar ranking were expected to socialize.

“No one wanted to play with me in preschool. All the kids were scared of me; they threw snowballs at me. Rocks. Sticks. You name it, they threw it,” Molly said with an offhanded laugh.

He could hear the pain there, though, and an incredibly awkward feeling came over him. He felt
bad
.

“September saw through all of this; she saw me.” Her eyes flashed up again, and there was a hardness in her gaze. He also didn’t find it as immobilizing as before.
From exposure, from the little amount of intimacy they exchanged.
Once he marked her, he’d be immune from merging their energies.

Her fingers caught his tie, and he froze, startled by her brave actions as she tightened the fabric around his neck. “If anything happened to her, I don’t know what I would do.”

So you wanna play “who's in charge”, sweetheart?

His lips quirked, and he touched both her hands. “Is that a threat, Ms. Darling?” He’d show her who was in charge; he'd throw her on the bed and devour her—pleasurably, of course. His fingertips skimmed the hollow of her wrist. “Because I expect people who make threats to follow through.”

Her hands retreated. “Do I
look
like a threat?”

He half-smiled. She had no idea how much of a threat she actually was to him. How, if he let her in, she could control him, just like that Spanish seductress had controlled his brother.

“Why are you friends with Illya?” Molly asked suddenly.

He stared for a few seconds, guarding his features. “It just happened.”

She narrowed her eyes. “
How
, though? He seems…different from you.”

“Big Mouth is definitely your opposite.”

“Thanks for opening up,” she murmured, harshly.

He stiffened, feeling the awkward tension growing between them again and regretting it. “I have something to give you,” he told her, reaching into his pocket.

Molly twisted around, watching him carefully as he produced a black velvet box.

She knitted her manicured brows and wrinkled her nose. “What is it?”

He snickered, opened it, and then handed it to her.

“A ring?” She gently took it and squinted.

“My family engagement ring. I thought it made sense to give it to you now,” he said, trying to make his voice as emotionless as possible.

A small part of him hoped for a “thank you, Tensley,”
or
a genuine smile of approval, but neither came as he noted how she simply gawked at it. A big, elegant black diamond caged in gold trim sat in her palm. It had been in his family for over seven hundred years, a symbol of the Scorpios. The family ring would be a symbol that she belonged to his family, to him. If any demon had a problem or desired Molly themselves, they would have to appeal to the Princes and Fallen.