“Fucking nasty vile creatures,” Lucy muttered, tugging at his torn t-shirt.
Frustration made her voice sharp. “Lucy, please help me get rid of it before we’re both eaten.”
His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Look, I’m a Daemon living with seven men who were literally created to kill and hunt my kind. They’re arseholes, but they’re not bad. Most of them had fucked up childhoods, which I think we can both relate to.”
“You had a bad childhood?”
“I count up to three-hundred my childhood,” he snorted. “There are a few of us whose transition wasn’t by choice, I just embraced the hand I was dealt.”
Her face softened. “Lucy…”
“Don’t look at me like I’m a victim. I’ve done some horrible things, wanted to do them even, but I’m still not helping with that charm. It’s a complicated relationship already with the Guardians, I’m not going to mess that up even if your lips do look so...”
“Mess what up, exactly?” Xander interrupted as he stepped into the shelter. He looked between them, brows creased. Red marked his right cheekbone, his sunglasses nowhere to be seen.
Lucy held up his hands in submission. “Ah, the funny thing is…”
Kyra didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. She reached for Xander, noticing the surprise as she pulled his face towards hers. He was granite beneath her fingertips, frozen until she flicked her tongue against the seam of his lips, needing him to open for her. Needing…
A vibration, maybe a moan before his hands were around her waist, tugging her closer until his hard body was flush with hers, his own tongue sweeping in to brush and tease. The taste of the charm grew, wiggling inside her mouth. He grumbled, his tongue poking at the spell before words tumbled from his throat, muffled even if she could understand the language. The charm loosened, the taste lessening before Xander sucked, and then suddenly it was gone.
It was like an elastic band, a sharp pain of the rebound as Xander spat to the side, but then he was back, his lips warm and hard against her own. His fingers dug in, one hand moving to angle her jaw better as her whole body thrummed with heat, with need.
This time she did moan, unable to stop the sound as he nipped against her lip before concentrating his attention on the little hurt.
Lucifer cleared his throat, the sound like ice water.
“Dirk will know his mark has been removed, so I suggest fucking off for a few days until the trace has dissipated.”
Xander lifted his head, his expression empty, cold. He turned toward Lucy, but Kyra couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere but Xander’s smooth skin, his strong jaw freshly shaven. She was hyperaware of his hand that still gripped her waist, at his fingers that seemed to be stroking her in gentle little circles despite his face. Calming if her blood wasn’t on fire.
“Can she be tracked?” Xander asked, his voice deeper, but void of emotion.
How could he act so callous while she was struggling not to combust? She pulled at his hand, needing space. His fingers gripped her harder, pulling until she sucked in a panicked breath. His release was immediate, so fast she staggered back, almost crashing into the glass of the shelter.
She dropped her gaze to the floor, trying and failing to calm her quickened breath. There was a blackened mark on the concrete, a liquid that sizzled like acid.
“I don’t know,” Lucifer said with a shrug, “but I would get a few hundred miles away just in case.”
“Then we will leave for the north. We can be there before nightfall.”
Kyra felt the air shift, her chi rippling as Lucifer disappeared into a drift. She dared look up, to study Xander’s glacial expression.
Xander grunted, but didn’t approach. “How much of a leash does he have around you?”
Kyra snapped straight, anger cutting through her embarrassment. She met his eyes of pure ice, hoped he could see the fire that burned in her own. “I had to make choices to survive.”
Xander stepped forward with a deliberate step, and her pulse raced when he slowly reached forward to touch her cheek. She felt no panic, no vulnerability at his hands so close to her throat. She hadn’t felt a sense of panic at the kiss either, not when he gripped her jaw, or when he pressed her close.
She wasn’t sure if it was because of the crackling awareness that seemed strung between them, or that she had learned to trust him.
“I can’t pretend to understand your choices,” he said quietly, leaning forward until his lips were a breath away. “But right now I have to go to the Borderlands, and I’m not leaving you behind.”
Chapter19
Xander
They had driven straight through, conscious that there could be hounds hunting. Xander could still taste the charm, charcoal and carrion at the back of his palate. He wasn’t familiar with the magic, didn’t know its limits or restrictions, but every mile he drove away from the city he felt himself relax just a little bit more.
