Closing his eyes, he cursed, because it was so easy to pretend it was her warm palm cupping him, rolling his balls gently between her fingers as she’d done before. She made him play for a minute, and just as he was about to beg her to let him do more, she said, “Now. Make yourself come.” Her voice lowered dangerously. Seductively. “On me.”
Surprise shot through him and the climax came on its heels, her words sparking a chain reaction that went nuclear. He barely had time to fall forward to brace himself on his right arm, keeping it well out of the range of her touch as he pumped his seed onto her hard, flat abs. His vision went completely offline as pleasure short-circuited a couple of his senses, including his hearing, because he heard Idess talking but had no idea what she was saying. He just wanted her to keep saying it, because her voice was an aphrodisiac, and his orgasm went on and on…
Finally, as his trembling arm threatened to collapse under his weight, it ended. His head swam and his breath felt like fire in his throat. He opened his eyes and met Idess’s.
“I’m so jealous,” she whispered, and he blinked.
“Of what?”
Her head fell back on the pillow, and she stared up at the ceiling with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. “You’re so alive, Lore. There’s fire in you. A will to live, when all I want is to be done with this life.”
An unfamiliar emotion clogged Lore’s throat, cutting off his breath. A will to live? He couldn’t care less about his own life. What he did care about was Sin, and making sure she never had to be owned again. Until that happened, he had to hang on. She was one of the reasons he’d hoped his brothers didn’t turn out to be total shits, and that she’d get to know them. She needed someone to take care of her. Someone better than Lore.
“Don’t be jealous of me,” he croaked. “There is nothing about me you should envy. I’m a terrible person.”
A smile trembled on her lips. “Your choices are terrible, but a terrible person wouldn’t love your sister the way you do.”
He didn’t buy that, not by a long shot. But strangely, Idess was right about one thing. He was alive—at least, now he was. For the first time since going through the transition that had turned him into a cold killer, he felt a spark. The banter with Idess energized him. Their battles challenged him. The sex excited him. Sure, none of that had happened under ideal conditions, but he had to wonder what things would be like between them if they weren’t going head to head over Kynan.
And if she wasn’t chained up.
He stifled an insane laugh, because all of that was a dream, and he’d never been a dreamer. Besides, once Kynan was dead, Lore figured his brothers—or Idess—would make sure he never dreamed again.
Who in their right mind built a medical facility for demons? It was a question Rariel had asked since the day he’d heard about Underworld General, and as he searched for the Harrowgate’s UGH symbol, he found he was actually curious about it.
UGH. He had to chuckle at the utter lack of forethought someone had displayed when he’d named the hospital. Moron.
This would be the sixth time he’d been there, though the first five times he hadn’t even stepped out of the Harrowgate. He’d simply opened it up, let Roag out or in, and continued. Apparently, the curse Roag’s brother had saddled him with had left the shriveled demon not only invisible to most, but without the ability to manipulate objects like the Harrowgate or doors, which made travel difficult.
Poor guy. Being betrayed by a sibling was the worst pain one could experience, and Rariel knew that first-hand.
He cast a sympathetic glance at Roag, who appeared to Rariel as a transparent specter, not nearly as solid as spirits were. And, unlike spirits, Roag’s only communication with Rariel came telepathically.
“Are you ready?” Rariel asked.
Yes.
Rariel tapped the hospital glyph with anticipation. This time, he was going to deliver his traveler and hang out. Observe. Plot.
The gate opened, and he stepped out. The emergency room was bustling, but he doubted anyone else could see that.
Most of the people milling around were ghosts, and as Roag entered the hospital, those spirits went mad. Some fled, some cowered, some stood in place and wailed until Rariel wanted to clap his hands over his ears.
Rariel’s invisible friend terrified the ghosts, and even the living beings in the emergency room became suddenly agitated.
A female vamp wearing scrubs approached him. “Do you need help?”
“No,” Rariel said, as Roag literally ripped into one of the screaming ghosts. That was the fun thing about spirits. You could tear them apart, causing unimaginable pain, and yet, they didn’t die. “I’m just here to watch.”