White Hot Kiss (14 page)

As the plume of dust settled and curses exploded like gunshots, pedestrians stopped on the sidewalks, some taking pictures with their phones of the mess. And, God, it was a mess. Who knew how long it took to put the scaffolding up, and tools had been attached to it, but they were most likely destroyed when the scaffolding collapsed.

I just stared.

“Hmm,” Roth drawled slowly. “That was definitely a setback in the project and some wasted money, but pure, scary-bad evil? Nah, I don’t think so.”

“It... He probably meant for it to fall onto the sidewalk.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

No one had been hurt. Almost like the Fiend had waited for the last man to come down from the scaffolding before he’d touched it. I couldn’t process what I’d seen.

Roth draped his arm over my shoulders. “Come on. Let’s find another.”

I shrugged his arm off as we started down the sidewalk. Roth was humming that damn song again.

“What is that?”

He stopped. “What is what?”

“The song you keep humming.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “‘Paradise City.’”

It took me a few seconds to put it together. “Guns N’ Roses?”

“Good stuff,” he replied.

We found another Fiend messing with the poles connected to the streetlights. All four sides of the intersection went green at once. Epic fender benders ensued, but again, no one was hurt. The Fiend could’ve messed with the pedestrian signal, which would have been really bad, but she hadn’t.

The whole thing was more mischievous than sinister.

“Want to go for third time’s the charm?”

“No,” I whispered, unnerved and confused. It was just two demons. It couldn’t mean anything.

Roth arched a dark brow. “You want to tag? No? I didn’t think so. How about we do something else?”

Stopping at a crosswalk, I shot him a look. “Is that why you ordered me to stop tagging? Because you think the Fiends are harmless?”

“I
know
the Fiends are harmless. Not all demons are. Some of us are really bad, but the ones you’re sentencing to death? Nope.” He paused as my stomach sank. “But no. My request really doesn’t have anything to do with that.”

“Then what?”

He didn’t answer until we crossed the street, stepping up on the curb. “Are you hungry?”

My stomach grumbled in response. I was always hungry. “Roth...”

“I’ll sweeten the deal for you. You eat with me and I’ll tell you about the other one who was like you. You’d love to know, wouldn’t you?” He flashed a winning smile. “Hang out with me and I’ll tell you what I know—at the end of our little adventure. Not before.”

I stepped around a cluster of tourists. My curiosity was burning a hole through me, and it was easier to focus on that instead of the possibility of damning relatively harmless Fiends to death. But a deal with a demon was literally making a deal with the devil. “What’s the catch?”

Roth looked terribly innocent. “You let me hang out with you. I promise. That’s all.”

“You’ve already lied to me.” I folded my arms. “How do I know you aren’t lying now?”

“I guess that’s a risk you have to take.”

An elderly couple passed by, smiling at us. Roth gave them one of his most charming smiles while I debated what to do. I doubted Abbot expected any tags tonight since I wasn’t even sure I was still allowed to be doing it. Drawing in a shallow breath, I nodded stiffly. “Okay.”

His smile slipped into a grin. “Great. I know just the place.”

“That worries me,” I replied blandly.

“You excite me.”

I flushed, busying myself with adjusting the strap on my book bag. Then he reached down, prying my fingers off the strap. I felt my heart skip a beat and my face blaze hotter.

“Are you always like this?” Roth asked, turning my hand over in his.

“Like what?”

“Easily flustered, forever blushing and looking away.” He ran the tips of his fingers over my palm. The caress sent a jolt through me, following the pathway of nerves all the way to the tips of my toes. “Like now. You’re blushing again.”

I slipped my hand free of his. “And you’re always annoying and creepy.”

He chuckled. Not a fake laugh. Roth was genuinely amused by my insults. Twisted. “There’s this little diner by the Verizon Center that has the best muffins in the world.”

“You eat muffins?” It struck me as odd. “I figured you drank virgin blood and ate cow hearts.”

“What?” Roth laughed again, and the deep sound was pleasant. “What have the Wardens taught you? I love muffins. Want to take the metro or walk it?”

“Walk,” I said. “I don’t like the subways.”

We started off toward F Street, which would take us some time on foot. I kept my gaze trained on the glimmering souls in front of me, aware of Roth on every level. The weirdest thing was, when I looked at him and didn’t see a soul, I felt relief instead of horror. Being around souls all day gnawed at me. The emptiness was a reprieve.

But it was something more than that.

Being around Roth was sort of
freeing.
Besides Zayne and the Wardens, he was the only one who knew what I was. Even my best friends had no idea about me. Roth knew, and he didn’t care. Zayne and the Wardens cared. Granted, Roth was a full-blooded demon of God knows what, but I didn’t have to pretend with him.

“I don’t like going underground, either,” Roth said after a few moments.

“Why? It should be like going home to you.”

“Exactly.”

I looked up at him. With his hands shoved into his pockets and the earnest expression on his face, he looked strangely vulnerable. But when he glanced down at me, his eyes bespoke a predator’s stare. Shivering, I squinted at the bright sun. “What’s it like down there?”

“Hot.”

I rolled my eyes. “I figured that much.”

Roth pulled an anti-Warden flyer off the back of a bench we passed and handed it to me. “It’s kind of like here, but darker. I think it tries to mirror everything topside, but it gets twisted. Not a very scenic place. Lots of cliffs, rivers that have no end and wastelands where cities have crumbled. I don’t think you’d like it.”

The flyer had the same crudely drawn picture that most did. I tossed it into a nearby trash can. “Do you like it?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked stonily. I could feel his eyes on me, studying my reaction.

“I’d say so. Either you like it or you don’t.”

His lips thinned. “I like it here better.”

I tried to keep my expression blank as we stopped at another busy intersection. “Do you come here often?”

“More than I should.”

“What does that mean?” I tilted my head back, meeting his intense stare.

“It’s...real up here.” He placed his hand on the small of my back, and the weight burned through my thin sweater in the most...unusually delicious way as he guided me across the street. “So, when did you start tagging?”

I chewed on my lip, unsure of how much I should tell him. “I was thirteen when I started.”

His brows furrowed. “It took them that long to realize you could do it?”

“No. After they...found me, they knew I could see souls. I guess I’d babbled about seeing their souls or something. It was an accident that anyone even knew I could tag demons.”

“What happened?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“I think I was ten or something, and I was with one of the Wardens,” I said. “We were getting something to eat. I saw a person who didn’t have an aura and I brushed against her in line. It was like flipping a switch. No one else seemed to notice but the Warden.”

“And the rest is history?” Roth sounded smug. “The Wardens find a half demon who can see souls and tag demons. Sounds kind of convenient to me.”

“I don’t know what you mean by it being convenient. I
am
a Warden, too, you know.”

He looked at me. “You can’t tell me you never seriously considered that the reason they keep you around is because of what you can do.”

“And the reason you’re interested in me has nothing to do with what I can do?” I quipped, feeling rather bold and proud.

“Of course I’m interested in you because of what you do,” he replied casually. “I’ve never pretended otherwise.”

I sidestepped a group of kids my age. The girls dressed in short skirts and lacy kneesocks rubbernecked Roth. “They didn’t know what I could do when they found me, Roth. So stop trying to make them sound like they’re the bad guys.”

“I like when people try to classify things into good and bad, as if everything is that clear-cut.”

“It is that clear-cut. Your kind is bad. The Wardens are good.” My response sounded flat. “They
are
good.”

He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to fall haphazardly across his forehead. “And why do you think the Wardens are so good?”

“Their souls are pure, Roth. And they protect people from things like you.”

“People with the purest souls are capable of the greatest evils. No one is perfect, no matter what they are or what side they fight for
.
” Roth caught my hand, pulling me around a cluster of tourists with fanny packs. “One of these days I’m going to buy me one of those.”

The laugh came out before I could squelch it. “You’d look real sexy in a fanny pack.”

His smile warmed his face—warmed
me.
“I’d look sexy in just about anything.”

I laughed again, shaking my head. “You’re so modest.”

Roth winked. “Modesty belongs to losers. Something I am not.”

I shook my head, grinning. “I’d tell you that probably earned you a ticket to Hell, but you know...”

Roth tipped his head to the side, chuckling. “Yeah. Yeah. Do you know how many times people have told me to go to Hell?”

“I can only imagine.” I caught sight of the top of the Verizon Center.

“It never gets old,” Roth mused, smiling softly.

CHAPTER NINE

We turned onto F Street and I stepped closer to him, pointing across the road. “When I was little, I used to sit across from the performing-arts center and watch them through the windows. I wish I had a smidgen of their grace and talent. You should see me dance.”

“Hmm,” Roth murmured, golden eyes twinkling. “I would like to see you dance.”

Was it commonplace for a demon to twist every comment into something laced with sexual innuendo? The crowd grew thicker near the arts center, a sure sign there was a concert later. My gaze landed on a couple leaning against the corner of the building. They were locked together, oblivious to the world around them. I could barely tell where one ended and the other began. Envy reared its head, forcing me to look away.

Roth was watching me observe the boy and girl. He smiled wolfishly. “So what does a tag look like?”

“You can’t see it?” I smiled. “Well, I’m not telling you.”

Roth laughed. “Fair. Can I ask you something else?”

I peeked at him. He was staring straight ahead now, lips pursed. “Sure.”

“Do you like doing this? Tagging demons?”

“Yes. I’m doing something good. How many people can say that?” I quickly added, “I like it.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that your
family
willingly puts you in danger to serve their own purpose?”

Irritation flashed like a glare from the winter sun. “They don’t really want me tagging anymore, so they don’t willingly put me in danger. I’m glad I can help. Can you say the same about whatever you do? You’re evil. You ruin people’s lives.”

“We aren’t talking about me,” he countered smoothly. “And what do you mean they don’t want you tagging anymore? I think these Wardens and I have something in common.”

I clutched the strap around my shoulder, mentally spin-kicking myself in the face. “It’s nothing. I’m tired of talking about me.”

We stopped in front of the café Roth had spoken of earlier. The fresh cookies and muffins in the window sang to me.

“Hungry?” Roth whispered in my ear.

His closeness was making it difficult to breathe. I could see the edge of the snake’s tail poking out of his collar. I lifted my head, swallowing. “Your tattoo moves.”

“Bambi gets bored.” His breath stirred the hair around my ear.

“Oh,” I whispered. “So...does she live on you or something?”

“Or something. Hungry or not?”

That was when I noticed the We Don’t Serve Wardens Here sign. Disgust filled me. “I guess I know why you like this place.”

His laugh confirmed my suspicions.

“This is just rich.” I faced him. “They won’t serve Wardens, but they’ll serve your kind.”

“I know. It’s called irony. I love it.”

Shaking my head, I headed into the café. Those cookies looked too good to pass up. It was slightly warmer inside the busy eatery. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the air as did the soft chatter of people sitting at bistro-style tables. I ordered a cold-cut sub and two sugar cookies. Roth got a coffee and a blueberry muffin—the muffin still surprised me. We found a table near the back, and I tried not to be weirded out by the fact that I was eating dinner with a demon.

I searched for a normal question to ask as I munched on my sandwich. “How old are you?”

Roth’s gaze flicked up from where he was strategically breaking his muffin into several bite-sized pieces. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Probably not.” I grinned. “But try me.”

He popped a chunk of muffin in his mouth, chewing slowly. “Eighteen.”

“Eighteen...what?” I finished off my sandwich while he stared back, brows raised. “Wait. Are you trying to tell me you’re only eighteen years old?”

“Yes.”

My mouth gaped. “You mean eighteen in dog years, right?”

Roth laughed. “No. I mean eighteen as in I was born eighteen years ago. I’m a baby demon, basically.”

“A baby demon,” I repeated slowly. When I thought about babies, the image of something soft and cuddly came to mind. Nothing about Roth was babyish. “You’re being serious.”

He nodded, brushing the crumbs off his hands. “You look so shocked.”

“I don’t understand.” I picked up one of the cookies.

“Well, technically, we’re not really alive. I don’t have a soul.”

I frowned. “Were you hatched from brimstone or something?”