Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

Jamie jumped.

Christian just raised an eyebrow. “Since when has life been fair?”

“My best friend is dead. The things that did it are out there, maybe waiting to get me and do the same as they did to Chloe.” Jamie flinched, but she carried on. “What am I supposed to do, sit around twiddling my thumbs, waiting for someone to come along and finish me off? Well I’m fed up with doing nothing.”

Now Christian looked amused and that shot her temper ten degrees higher. Jamie inched away and moved around the back of the sofa, putting it between them.

“Did I mention demons have tempers?” Christian said.

Tara got to her feet and crossed the room to stand in front of him. She only came up to his shoulder. Whoever heard of a miniature demon? She poked him in the chest. “I want to do something.”

Christian sighed. “We are doing something. I’ve put out the word for whoever is after me. That will lead us to the people who took your friend. I’ll find them, and I’ll kill them. Then I’ll sort something out with the fae.”

Tara shook her head. “You’re not getting it. I don’t want you to sort everything out. I want to do this myself. Chloe was my friend. I don’t want to wait around for you to make everything right. This is my life.”

“You’re no match for any of the things coming after you. Trust me.” He combed his fingers through her hair. A sensation of calmness washed over her, but she didn’t want to be calm. What could she do?

Searching the room, her gaze caught on a small table by the window, with a decanter and glasses. Christian’s eyes followed her every movement as she marched up to the table, picked up the decanter, and pulled out the stopper. Raising it to her nose, she breathed in deeply, and the sharp tang of alcohol filled her nostrils. She poured an inch of amber liquid into the bottom of one of the glasses.

“Tara?”

“Yes?”

Christian no longer looked amused. Across the room, Jamie gripped the back of the sofa, his knuckles white.

“What are you doing?” Christian asked.

She smiled and raised the glass. “Releasing my inner demon.”





Part Three



Redefining Normal





Chapter Twenty-Three


Tara stared at Christian over the rim of the glass, and something flickered in his eyes.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said.

“No, Tara,” Jamie muttered. “It’s a very, very bad idea.”

Instead of worrying her, the tremor in Jamie’s voice filled her with a wild sense of exhilaration.

She was fed up with being safe.

She’d tried her hardest to be normal, but maybe it was time to accept that she wasn’t cut out for normality after all.

She put the glass to her lips and swallowed. The liquid burned her throat like fire.

“Jamie,” Christian said, “get out of here, and tell Graham to lock down the office.”

The words seemed to come from a long way off.

She expected to see horror on Christian’s face. Instead, his eyes were hot and hungry and filled with a deep excitement. She took a slow step toward him.

“Now, Jamie!” he snarled, never taking his eyes from her.

She was vaguely aware of Jamie scuttling across the room, and the door slamming behind him, but took no notice. Her whole consciousness filled with the vampire and with the inferno in her belly. She needed to do something. Anything. She just didn’t know what. Rip something up. Rend something into bloody little pieces.

The need spread through her body, setting her on fire, the flames licking at her breasts, between her legs, and she threw back her head and screamed. It released some of the pressure and for a moment, she came back to herself.

There was a noise behind her, and she whirled. Steel shutters slid down over the windows.

“You can’t get out,” Christian said softly. “Don’t bother trying.”

She glared at him through narrowed eyes. “Neither can you.”

“Ah, but I don’t want to. I have everything I want right in here.” He sauntered toward her, circling, sniffing the air. Halting less than a foot from where she stood, he started to unbutton his shirt. He gave up halfway down, ripped it open, and dragged it off his shoulders, throwing it to the floor. “Sex and food.”

He smiled, baring his teeth. His fangs were fully elongated, and the flames roared back to life. She stared at his naked chest, the skin so pale, almost luminous, pulled tight over all that muscle. Then down to where his pants hung low on his lean hips. She couldn’t take her eyes off his flat belly, ridged with muscle, bisected by a line of black silky hair. Something shifted inside her, and she licked her lips. Christian laughed softly, and her eyes darted to his face.

“Come on, Tara, do you think you can take me? Do you want to try?”

He was goading her. He was insane.