White Hot Kiss (3 page)

No—not a mass, but a huge freaking snake at least ten feet long and as wide as I was. I sprang to my feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness.

The thing spun toward me, rising halfway up. Its eyes burned an unholy red.

A scream caught in my throat.

“Don’t be scared of Bambi,” the demon said. “She’s only curious and maybe a little bit hungry.”

The thing was named
Bambi?

Oh, my God, the thing stared at me like it wanted to eat me.

The...the giant snake didn’t try to make me his snack pack. When it swung back toward the Seeker, I nearly fell over from relief. But then it shot across the small space, rising until its monstrous head hovered over the petrified lesser demon. The snake opened its mouth, revealing two fangs the size of my hand and, past them, a yawning black hole.

“Okay,” the demon murmured, smirking. “Maybe she’s a lot hungry.”

I took that as my cue to book it out of the alley.

“Wait!” yelled the demon, and when I didn’t stop but ran faster than I ever had before, his curse echoed in my head.

I crossed the avenues bordering Dupont Circle, passing the shop I’d planned on joining Stacey and Sam at. Only when I reached the spot where Morris, our chauffeur and about a dozen other things, would pick me up did I stop to breathe.

The gently hued souls thrummed around me, but I didn’t pay attention to them. Numb to my core, I sat on a bench by the curb. I felt wrong, off. What the Hell had just happened? All I’d wanted to do was outline
All Quiet on the Western Front
tonight. Not almost devour a soul, nearly get killed, meet my very first Upper Level demon or watch a tattoo turn into an anaconda for chrissake.

I glanced down at my empty hand.

Or lose my phone.

Crap.

CHAPTER TWO

Morris didn’t talk on the way to the house on Dunmore Lane. No big surprise there. Morris never spoke. Maybe it was the stuff he saw going on inside our house that left him speechless. I really didn’t know.

Fidgety to the tenth degree from sitting on the bench for about an hour waiting on Morris, I bounced my foot on the dashboard the whole way home. It was only four miles, but four miles in D.C. equaled a billion miles elsewhere. The only part of the trip that went fast was the private stretch of road leading up to Abbot’s monster of a home.

With four stories, countless guest rooms and even an indoor pool, it was more like a hotel than a home. It really was a compound—a place where the unmarried male Wardens in the clan lived and operated like command central. As we drew closer, I blinked and let out a muttered curse that earned me a disapproving look from Morris.

Six stone gargoyles that hadn’t been there this morning were perched on the edge of our rooftop. Visitors. Great.

I pulled my feet down from the dashboard and grabbed my bag off the floor. Even with their wings folded in and faces turned down, the hunched shapes were a formidable sight against the starry night.

In their resting form, Wardens were nearly indestructible. Fire couldn’t harm them. Chisels and hammers couldn’t breach their shell. People had tried every form of weapon since the Wardens went public. So had the demons since, well, forever, but Wardens were only weak when they looked human.

The moment the car drifted to a stop in front of the sprawling porch, I jumped out and tore up the steps, skidding to a halt in front of the door. In the upper-left corner of the porch, a small camera shifted to where I stood. The light blinked red. Somewhere in the massive rooms and tunnels under the mansion, Geoff was in the control room and behind the camera. No doubt getting a kick out of making me wait.

I stuck out my tongue.

The light turned green a second later.

Rolling my eyes when I heard the door unlocking, I opened it and dropped my bag in the foyer. Immediately, I started toward the stairs. After a second thought, I swiveled around and raced toward the kitchen. Finding the room blissfully empty, I dug out a roll of sugar-cookie dough from the fridge. I broke off a chunk and then headed upstairs. The house was cemetery quiet. At this time of the day, most would be in the training facility underground or had already left to hunt.

All except Zayne. For as long as I could remember, Zayne had never left to hunt without seeing me first.

I took the steps three at a time, munching on the dough. Wiping my sticky fingers across my denim skirt, I nudged his door open with my hip and froze. I seriously needed to learn how to knock.

I saw his pearly-white, luminous glow first—a pure soul. Different from a human soul, a Warden’s essence was pure, a product of what they were. Very few humans retained a pure soul once they started exercising the whole thing called free will. Due to the taint of the demonic blood I carried, I knew I didn’t have a pure soul. I wasn’t sure I had a soul at all. I could never see mine.

Sometimes...sometimes I didn’t think I belonged with them—with Zayne.

A sense of shame curled low in my stomach, but before it could spread like noxious fumes, Zayne’s soul faded, and I wasn’t really thinking about anything.

Fresh out of the shower, Zayne tugged a plain black T-shirt on over his head. Not quick enough that I missed a tantalizing glimpse of abs. Rigorous training kept his body chiseled and rock hard. I dragged my gaze up when the stretch of skin disappeared. Damp sandy hair clung to his neck and sculpted cheeks. His features would be too perfect if it weren’t for those watered-down blue eyes all Wardens had.

I shuffled to the edge of his bed and sat. I shouldn’t think of Zayne the way I did. He was the closest thing I had to a brother. His father, Abbot, had raised us together and Zayne looked at me like the little sister he somehow ended up saddled with.

“What’s up, Layla-bug?” he asked.

Part of me loved it when he used my childhood nickname. The other part—the part that wasn’t a little girl anymore—loathed it. I peeked at him through my lashes. He was fully clothed now. What a shame. “Who’s on the roof?”

He sat beside me. “A few travelers from out of town needed a place to rest. Abbot offered them beds, but they preferred the roof. They didn’t—” He stopped suddenly, leaning forward, grabbing my leg. “Why are your knees scuffed up?”

My brain sort of shorted out the moment his hand touched my bare leg. A hot flush stole over my cheeks, spreading way, way down. I gazed at his high cheekbones and those lips—oh, God, those lips were perfect. A thousand fantasies blossomed. All of them involved him, me and the ability to kiss him without sucking out his soul.

“Layla, what did you get into tonight?” He dropped my leg.

I shook my head, dispelling those hopeless dreams. “Um...well, nothing.”

Zayne moved closer, staring at me as if he could see through my lies. He had an uncanny ability to do so. But if I told him everything, like the Upper Level demon part, they’d never let me leave the house alone. I liked my freedom. It was about the only thing I had.

I sighed. “I thought I was following a Poser.”

“And you weren’t?”

“Nope.” I wished he’d touch my leg again. “It turned out to be a Seeker pretending to be a Poser.”

Amazing how quickly he went from superhot guy to all serious-faced Warden. “What do you mean the Seeker was pretending?”

I forced a casual shrug. “I really don’t know. I saw it in McDonald’s. It had the appetite of a Poser and behaved like one, so I followed it. Turned out it wasn’t a Poser, but I tagged him.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” His brow pinched, a common expression whenever he was turning over something in his head. “Seeker demons are errand boys, or they’re summoned by some idiot to find something stupid like frog eyes or the blood of a bald eagle for a spell that will inevitably backfire. Pretending to be a Poser is not typical.”

I remembered what the Seeker had said.
Gotcha.
As if it had been looking for me. I knew I needed to tell Zayne that, but his father was already a spaz when it came to where I went and who I was with. And Zayne was pretty much required to tell his father everything since Abbot was the head of the D.C. clan of Wardens. Besides, I had to have misheard the Seeker, and demons rarely had a reason for doing weird or unexpected things. They were demons. Explanation enough.

“Are you okay?” Zayne asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I paused. “I did lose my phone, though.”

He laughed, and oh man, I loved the sound of his laugh. Deep. Rich. “Jesus, Layla, how many does that make so far this year?”

“Five.” I stared at his heavily stocked bookcases, sighing. “Abbot isn’t going to get me another one. He thinks I lose them on purpose. I don’t. They just...unfriend me.”

Zayne laughed again, nudging me with his denim-clad knee. “How many did you tag tonight?”

I thought about the few hours after school, before I met up with Stacey and Sam. “Nine. Two were Posers and the rest were Fiends, with the exception of the Seeker.” Which Zayne would probably never find since there was a good chance Bambi had eaten it.

Zayne gave a low whistle. “Nice. I’ll have a busy night.”

And that was what Wardens did. Generation after generation, they’d been keeping the demon population in check since long before they went public. I was only seven when it happened, so I didn’t remember how the public responded. I’m sure the big reveal included a whole lot of freaking out. Oddly enough, I moved in with them around the same time.

The Alphas, the angelic guys who ran the show, understood that there needed to be good and bad in the world—the Law of Balance. But something happened ten years ago. Demons began pouring through the portals by the buttload, creating chaos as they wreaked havoc on everything they came in contact with. Possession of humans became a huge problem, and things spiraled out of control at that point. Hell’s lovelies no longer wanted to stay in the shadows and the Alphas couldn’t have mankind knowing that demons were real. Abbot once told me it had to do with free will and faith. Man needed to believe in God without knowing Hell truly existed. Willing to do anything to keep mankind in the dark about the demons, the Alphas had issued their mandate. Seemed like a big risk and that humans would eventually add one plus one and get demons, but what did I know?

Only a select few humans knew the truth. Besides Morris, there were some within the police departments, the government and surely military personnel around the world who knew demons existed. Those humans had their own reasons for keeping the general populace in the dark, reasons that had nothing to do with faith. The world would descend into chaos if humans knew demons were ordering their morning coffee right alongside them.

But that was the way it worked. Wardens helped the police departments with capturing criminals, and some of those criminals hunted down were demons, who may have had a get-out-of-jail-free card, but who went straight back to Hell and did not pass Go. If the demons ever exposed themselves to the world, the Alphas would destroy all the demons that were topside, including my happy half-demon butt.

“Things are getting kind of crazy,” he said, mostly to himself. “There’s a Hell of a lot more Poser activity. Some of the Wardens in different districts have even run into Hellions.”

My eyes popped. “Hellions?”

As Zayne nodded, an image of the overgrown, beastly things formed in my thoughts. Hellions weren’t supposed to be topside. They were like cracked-out mutant apes and pit bulls rolled into one.

Zayne bent at the waist, rummaging under his bed. Strands of hair fell forward, obscuring his face. I could openly gawk now. Zayne was only four years older than me, but being a Warden, he was a lot more mature than most human guys his age. I knew everything about him, except what he
really
looked like.

That was the thing about gargoyles. The skin they wore during the day wasn’t who they were. For the millionth time, I wondered about Zayne’s real appearance. His human skin was hotness, but unlike the others he never allowed me to see his true form.

And since I was only half-Warden, I couldn’t shift like a normal one could. I was permanently stuck in human form, irrevocably flawed. Wardens typically didn’t do well with flaws. If it wasn’t for my unique ability to see souls and tag those who lacked them, I’d be pretty damn useless in the big scheme of things.

Zayne sat up, a lump of stuffed fur in his hand. “Look who I found. You left him in here a couple of nights ago.”

“Mr. Snotty!” I grabbed the raggedy teddy bear, grinning. “I was wondering where he was.”

His lips curved into a smile. “I can’t believe you still have that bear.”

I flopped onto my back, clutching Mr. Snotty to my chest. “You gave him to me.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He’s my favorite stuffed animal.”

“He’s your
only
stuffed animal.” Zayne stretched out beside me, staring up at the ceiling. “You came home earlier than I expected. I thought you were studying with your friends?”

I gave a lopsided shrug.

Zayne tapped his fingers along his stomach. “That’s strange. You’re normally whining to have a later curfew, but it’s not even nine yet.”

I bit my lip. “So? I told you what happened.”

“So, I know you’re not telling me everything.” Something in the way he said that made me turn my head toward him. “Why would you lie to me?”

Our faces were close, but not close enough that it would become dangerous. And Zayne trusted me, believed I was more Warden than demon. I thought about the snake...and the boy who really wasn’t a boy but a high-ranking demon.

I shuddered.

Zayne reached across the tiny space between us, placing his hand atop mine. My heart missed a beat. “Tell me the truth, Layla-bug.”

I could easily recall the first time he’d called me that.

It was the night they’d brought me to this house. At seven years old, I’d been terrified of the winged creatures with jagged teeth and red eyes that had taken me from the foster home. The moment they had set me down in the foyer of this very home, I’d torn through the house and tucked myself into a tiny ball in the back of the first closet I’d found. Hours later, Zayne had coaxed me out of my hidey-hole, holding a pristine teddy bear and calling me Layla-bug. Even at eleven, he’d seemed larger than life to me, and from that moment on I’d been attached to his hip. Something the older Wardens relished giving him a hard time about.