“You don’t want to die,” he said.
“I didn’t want you to die. Now shut up, and don’t spoil it.”
He opened his mouth, but must have seen something in her face because he closed it again.
The sun had set as they made love, and above them the stars were coming out. They floated on their backs, only the fingers of one hand connecting them, and stared up at the sky. She felt warm, sated, happy to float forever. But in the end, Carl turned and towed her back to the boat.
She admired his firm ass as he climbed the ladder, then grasped the hand he held out to her. He heaved her to the deck, drew her close, and kissed her. She was still in some dream state as he picked her up and laid her down on a pile of cushions on the deck.
“I want to taste the salt on your skin,” he said as he followed her down.
He lay between her thighs, shifting her legs wider apart, lowering his head to stroke his tongue across her tight nipples. A shiver of pleasure ran through her, settling between her legs. He moved lower, licking her flat belly, blowing warm air over the curls at the base. All her muscles locked up tight as she waited, her breath catching in her throat. Then he kissed her—long wet, French kisses, using his tongue and lips, parting her sex, finding the swollen nub, caressing it with his tongue.
The pleasure spiraled again. In seconds she was out of control. She hovered on the edge of orgasm, and he backed away, placing little kisses lower, pushing his tongue inside her, then going back to suckle her clit, this time not stopping until she tipped over the edge and came screaming.
…
Carl woke the next morning in their bed in the hotel room. The French windows were open, filling the room with early morning sunlight and the salty scent of the sea.
Shera lay curled against his side like a kitten, still sleeping.
For a few seconds he felt truly content. He could happily spend eternity waking up like this.
The happiness didn’t last. Because he wasn’t going to get eternity. If Shera, the stubborn little cat, had her way, they wouldn’t have another morning.
If she didn’t go back, this was her last day.
Something broke inside him at the thought of her dying.
He’d always gone his own way—been a lone wolf and proud of it. Now he didn’t want to be alone any longer. This was new, and he had no clue whether they would make it together in the long run. But he wanted desperately to try.
She was coming to care for him, but it wasn’t enough. Plus, she believed if she went back that made her unworthy in some way. He suspected it was partly the changes she was going through, the latent powers awakening.
No, she wouldn’t return. She’d rather die.
There was powerful blood running in her veins. Blood that would bow down to no one.
Ash had said under no circumstances to tell her about the demon thing. But if that was what was driving her decisions, then he would tell her, and he’d somehow deal with the fallout. But there was one more thing he could try first.
Part of him understood her reluctance to go back. The thought of enslaving himself to anyone, however benign that slavery, was anathema to him. Which made what he was about to do one of the stupidest decisions of his entire existence. But sometimes there really was no choice.
He slipped out of bed without waking her, grabbed his shorts from the floor, and went into the living area, closing the door behind him. His cell phone was on the table, and he picked it up. Ash had been trying to contact him numerous times since their last call. Now Carl hit return.
Ash answered immediately. “Where the fuck are you? Do you realize she’s dead in about one fucking hour? Just tell me you’re on your way. I’ll come and get you. Shit, Faith will fucking kill me if she dies.”
“She won’t come back.”
“Which part of drug her and bring her the fuck back did you not understand?”
“I won’t force her.”
There was silence for a full minute. “Christ, you fucking love her. Please tell me that’s just my imagination conjuring up the worst possible scenario.”
Carl scrubbed his hand through his short hair and shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t know. I care about her, though. And she saved my life. And she deserves—”
“Shut the fuck up. This is a nightmare, and did I mention—Faith will kill me.”
“I might have a solution.”
“Really? A solution? Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”
Carl took a deep breath. “You told me that the only way to get rid of the sigil was if someone volunteered to take it.”
Another silence, then, “Let me get this straight—you’re volunteering?”
He swallowed. Why couldn’t the fucker agree before he lost his nerve? “Yes. Not to wash your goddamned socks or anything like that, but…yes.”
“You understand—you’ll be tied to me, tied to the Abyss. I might not ask you to wash my socks, but if you piss me off…”