White Hot Kiss (20 page)

“Shut up, Cayman.”

Cayman’s steps matched Roth’s. We were in a stairwell, heading up. “Should I be concerned? Because if that’s who I think it is and she looks like that because of something you did, I really need to know before I have a fleet of Wardens tearing up my building.”

I wondered how bad I looked and how this guy knew who I was. “He didn’t do this.”

“That’s somewhat of a relief, but...”

Roth rounded a level. “The Wardens are of no concern at this moment.”

The other demon arched a brow. “That would be your opinion—and an invalid one. The Wardens—”

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”

Cayman grinned as he slid around us, opening the door to the fifteenth floor. “And since when do I ever listen to you?”

Roth grunted. “Good point.”

He stepped aside, hand on the door. “Can I get you guys anything?”

“Not at the moment.” But Roth stopped and faced the other demon. “I’ll be down to see you later. Don’t worry. I’ll fill you in.”

Humor glimmered in the demon’s eyes. “Great. I’m in need of some good gossip.”

And then he was gone, like he’d poofed out of the hallway. Roth started down the hallway. “I...I can...walk.”

“I’d prefer that you didn’t right now, and besides, we’re here.”

Here
was a door painted black. It opened on its own, and as soon as we stepped through, an overhead light flicked on and bright light spilled across the room. I blinked until my eyes adjusted.

His home away from Hell was pretty nice. A large loft fit for a king, to be exact. The walls were painted white, and they were bare with the exception of a few macabre, abstract paintings. There was a bed in the middle, covered with black and red sheets. A TV was mounted on the wall, and below it were several stacks of DVDs and books. There was a piano in the corner beside a closed door.

Any other time I would’ve made a beeline for the books and DVDs, but when he gently sat me down on the bed, I stayed there, feeling numb and empty.

“Why did he do this?” Roth’s voice was eerily calm.

“Is...is Bambi okay?” I asked instead.

Roth frowned. “Bambi is fine.”

It was strange to feel relief over a demon snake. “She helped me twice.” I lifted my gaze. “You helped me twice.”

“Like I said, Bambi seems to like you. She keeps an eye on you...”

When I can’t
seemed like the unspoken part of the sentence. I lowered my gaze, so very confused about freaking everything. Were all demons really evil? How could they be when one rescued me from the one thing meant to protect everyone?

“Answer my question, Layla.”

I hesitated. Because...because I wasn’t sure I could say why Petr did what he did. I wasn’t ready to speak those words, because it made everything painfully real. And at that moment, I didn’t think I could handle them.

He stared at me a moment and then stalked over to a low sitting chair. He pulled a thick blanket off the back. “Here.” He carefully dropped it over my shoulders. “You look cold.”

I slowly let go of my torn clothes, sinking my fingers into the rich softness, pulling it around me. I didn’t know what kind of material it was. Maybe cashmere? It was black, though, which fit him.

Roth lingered again, not saying anything, and then he spun around. I watched the intricate play of his muscles as he reached down and tugged his dirty shirt up over his head. Muscles in his arms flexed as he tossed it to the floor. There was a large tattoo along the side of his body: four lines of eloquently written scripture in a language I’d never seen before.

Even in the state of mind I was in, I couldn’t help but appreciate all that Roth had going on. When he turned to grab a shirt out of a pile of neatly stacked clothes, I got an eyeful of his front. He was all muscle, chiseled and lean. Graceful. His pants hung low, and it looked as if someone had pressed their fingers into the skin next to his hips, leaving behind indentations. The dips and planes of his stomach looked unreal.

Bambi was wrapped around his biceps, and there was an odd, circular tat over his right pec. Yet another tattoo was carved over his stomach. It appeared to be a dragon, with its head reared back and jaws open. Wings were tucked against its scaly back and the tail disappeared below the waistband of his pants.

I needed to look away, but my eyes were glued to where that tail must’ve been.

Roth pulled a clean shirt on, and I let out a breath. He moved to a small kitchen area and opened up a cabinet. He returned to my side, unscrewing a bottle. “You should drink some of this. It will help.”

I accepted it, taking a long swallow. The liquor burned my lips and the inside of my mouth as he disappeared into what I assumed was a bathroom, but it warmed my insides wonderfully. I heard the water turn on a few moments later. When he reappeared, I stared at the towel in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up your face.” Roth crouched, his eyes roaming over me. “Does it hurt to talk?”

It hurt not to talk. “A little.” I took another drink, gasping as the liquid dribbled over my torn skin. Roth took the bottle from me, setting it out of my reach. I sighed.

“How do you normally heal?” he asked.

“Faster than a human, but not like the Wardens or...like you,” I answered. Hopefully most of the bruises would be gone by midweek. Not that my injuries were even a problem. I had bigger things to worry about.

He dabbed the towel under my lip with surprising gentleness. “I want to know why he did this, Layla. I need to know.”

Looking away, I squeezed my eyes shut. Raw pain tore through my chest like a real wound. I knew—God, I knew—that it wasn’t just Petr who wanted me dead. The whole thing seemed like a big setup—the Alphas, the clansmen being nowhere nearby, and even Zayne not answering his phone. Betrayal cut so deep, it splintered my very core.

Gentle fingers pressed under my chin, turning my head to the side. “Talk to me, Layla.”

I opened my eyes and blinked back tears. “He wanted...he wanted to kill me. He said the world would be better off without me.”

A muscle spasmed along Roth’s jaw and his eyes flared a tawny color, but his touch remained so soft that it didn’t seem like it was him holding my chin. “Did he say why?”

“He said I should’ve been killed when the Wardens first found me. Petr’s always hated me, but this...this was more.” I told Roth everything that had happened, stopping every few moments to rest my aching jaw. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“A choice about what?” he asked. “You didn’t kill him. I did. And I’d like to do it again.”

I shook my head and it hurt. “I took his soul, Roth. I don’t understand what happened. He didn’t waste away like a human would. He turned and his eyes were red.”

He stilled, looking me straight in the eye. “You took his soul?”

Tears pricked my eyes.

“Layla,” he said gently. “Did you take his soul completely?”

“I think so.” My voice cracked. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

The hue of his eyes darkened. “You did what you had to do. There is no guilt in what happened. Do you understand me? He was...hurting you. The bastard deserved to die.”

I said nothing to that, and Roth smoothed the cloth over my brow. He was quiet and meticulous as he worked. I watched the muscle in his jaw tick away, his pupils slowly but surely going back to normal by the time he left and returned with a fresh towel.

“How bad is it?” I asked when I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

Roth smiled for the first time since he’d found me. “It’s not as bad as it could be. Your lip is split, and there’s going to be one Hell of a bruise on your jaw—” he skimmed his fingers over my brow “—and here. You’re more durable than you look.”

I should’ve felt relief, but I couldn’t. All I could feel were Petr’s hands on me and the way he’d looked after I took his soul. Roth gently started to part the edge of the blanket and my grip tightened. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you’re okay.”

“No.” I leaned away from him, feeling the walls start to close in around me. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Roth placed his hand on my shoulder carefully, but I still winced at the ache traveling down my arm. His eyes hardened. “You’re letting me check you over. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I promise.”

I stared at him for what seemed like eternity, then I nodded and let go of the blanket. Roth didn’t wait for me to change my mind. He slipped the blanket off my shoulders and when I heard his sharp inhalation, I wanted to grab it again. I felt him move the cloth under my neck, dip between the shredded halves of my camisole.

“He scratched you,” Roth explained after a few moments. “Was he in his true form when he did this?”

“No.” I opened my eyes. “He started to shift when I got ahold of his soul and then he turned completely afterward.”

Before Roth could respond, I felt something soft and warm brush against my ankle. I looked down in surprise. A tiny white kitten stared up at me, eyes as blue as the sky. “Kitten?”

“Yes. It’s a kitten.”

Stunned that Roth would have something so cute, I ignored the wave of dizziness and bent around him, reaching for the tiny ball of fur. Its soft purr was like a miniature engine. Another one popped out from underneath the bed. Black, fluffy and the same size as the other kitten, it shimmied out and pounced on the back of the white one. They rolled, hissing and swatting at one another. I glanced at Roth. “Two?”

He shook his head, pointing back to the head of the bed. “Three.”

A third peeked around the corner of a pillow, a mixture of black and white. It trotted up to me, sweeping at my fingers with surprisingly sharp claws. “I...can’t believe you have kittens.” I wiggled my fingers and the little guy strained to reach them. “What’re their names?”

Roth snorted. “That one is Fury. The white one is Nitro and the black one is named Thor.”

“What? You called these cuties something like that, but named a giant snake Bambi?”

He bent forward, placing a kiss on my shoulder. It was so fast I wasn’t sure he’d actually done it. “There’s sweetness in evil,” he said. “And remember, looks can be deceiving.”

I lowered my fingers, running them over the kitten’s little head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I—”

Fury sank its claws and teeth into my hand. I yelped, jerking my hand back. It remained latched on, a squirming ball of vamp kitty.

Roth grabbed the fluff of fur, gently removing it from my hand. “Bad kitty,” he said, dropping it next to its siblings.

I stared at the demonic furball as it licked its bloody claws, and then shifted my gaze to Roth. “I don’t understand.”

“Let’s just say that they weren’t always this cute and cuddly-looking. They can get pretty big when provoked, but even in this form, Hellhounds are afraid of them,” Roth said.

The white one jumped on the bed, stretched out little legs and yawned. It eyed me as if it wasn’t sure what I was doing there.

Roth caught my hand, bringing the finger the kitten had injured to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the blemished skin, surprising me once more. “You’re going to be fine.”

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again. “What...what am I going to do? I took a soul—
a pure soul.
”

Roth sat beside me. “It will be okay.”

A strangled laugh escaped me. “You don’t understand. I’m not allowed...to take souls. Not in any situation.”

“It’s not something to worry about right now,” he said firmly. “I’ll take care of it.”

I wanted to believe him so badly, but I couldn’t see how he could take care of anything. What had been done couldn’t be reversed.

Roth reached out, cupping the side of my jaw that didn’t feel like it was on fire. “This will all work out. It will.” There was a pause. “Look. You have a little visitor.”

I glanced down. The white kitten rubbed against my side, staring up at me with slanted blue eyes. I itched to pick it up and hold it close, but I valued my fingers. It went back to rubbing my hip, as if it dared me to pet it.

Emotion clogged my throat as I realized I hadn’t thanked him properly. “Why are you helping me? I mean, thank you—I can never thank you enough for coming when you did. I just...” I just didn’t understand how a demon could be the one to save me from a Warden.

He shrugged, dropping his hand. “I’m a lot of things, Layla. But even I have my limits.”

Silence fell between us, and Roth went back to cleaning up the rest of my wounds. He was good at this—taking care of someone. I doubted it was something he learned in Hell.

When he finished, he gave me a pair of his sweats and a shirt to wear. On the walk to his bathroom, I ached and felt awkward. In his bright bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My eyes seemed larger than normal, a brighter gray that bordered on looking wild. The right side of my jaw was already turning a deep purple. It matched the bruise forming just below my hairline. The skin had split there, but it didn’t look like I needed stitches. My lip looked like a Botox injection gone horribly wrong.

I shook off my clothes, wincing not just from the pain but from the sight of the blue and light violet splotches covering my shoulders and chest. Petr’s claw marks started under my throat, three deep slashes about four inches long. I quickly changed, unable to look at myself any longer.

Roth was at the window when I returned. He turned around and tried for a wolfish grin. “I always knew you’d look great in my pants.”

I hadn’t thought I’d laugh again, but I did then. It sounded weak. “That’s real original.”

He pushed off the wall and gestured at the closed door I’d noticed before. “I want to show you something. You think you’re up for it?”

Intrigued despite myself, I nodded. He opened the door and motioned me forward. I followed him up the narrow staircase. He stopped at a door and glanced over his shoulder. “Promise me you won’t walk off the ledge.”

I would’ve rolled my eyes if it wouldn’t have hurt. “I promise.”

He didn’t quite look like he believed me, but he opened the door. Cool air pulled me forward. I limped past him.

“Don’t walk off the rooftop. Please.” He followed behind me. “I wouldn’t want to scrape your remains off the pavement below.”