“It lowers their inhibitions,” Christian said. “It brings their inner demon to the surface. They’re quite good at being…well good if they want to, but give a demon a drink, and you can guarantee pure carnage.”
Sometime soon, Tara would sit down and have a long chat with Jamie. But right now, she had other things to consider. She was half-demon and half-fae, but the truth was she had no clue what that meant.
She still felt normal, but maybe she’d never felt normal in the first place. What did it feel like to be a demon? Both men watched her closely. Jamie obviously worried, Christian looked—she searched his face. At first glance, he appeared expressionless, but closer inspection showed his eyes gleamed—he looked hungry. Her heart sped, the blood pumped in her veins until it throbbed just below the surface of her skin. She remembered the feel of him piercing her body and liquid heat pooled between her thighs.
Christian breathed in deeply as though sensing her arousal. His eyes broke contact, dropped to her throat, and she raised her head slightly, tempting him. His gaze fell lower, lingered on the tips of her breasts, hard and tight under her T-shirt, and down to the junction of her thighs. His lips were slightly parted, and he stroked his tongue over the tip of one sharp white fang. She squirmed on the seat.
Jamie cleared his throat and the sound broke the spell.
“I think I need to be somewhere else,” Jamie muttered.
Tara felt out of control, as though she had no say in her body’s responses. It knew what it wanted and wouldn’t be denied.
Jamie edged away.
“No,” she said.
“No?” Christian repeated and his voice was low, smoky, seductive. She swayed toward him but pulled herself up short.
“No. Chloe is dead, and I want to find her killers. I want to know what I am. Why everyone wants to kill me. What have I ever done to them?”
She thought he was about to argue, but the tension left his body, and he relaxed. “You’ve done nothing, but the fae probably want to kill you because you’re of mixed blood. They guard their blood jealously, and it gives you the power to enter both their world and the world of the demons.”
“Like I’d want to.” She considered what he’d said. “So why do the demons want me?”
“Probably for that very reason—you have the power to enter the Faelands.” Christian sighed. “It goes back a long time, before the Accords, when both fae and demons moved freely on the earth. They’ve always been enemies. At that time, there were constant wars and they were in danger of destroying the earth and all mankind, so the Shadow Accords were signed. It allocated lands on either side of the earth to each race and ensured that neither could enter each other’s territories. The Order was set up here to ensure that the two races abided by the Accords.”
“And do they?”
“On the whole, they stay put. Demons make the occasional foray onto the earth and the fae keep to themselves. As long as they don’t cause trouble and are discreet, we do nothing. Every so often things get out of hand and trigger a war. The last was just before you were born. Probably how you were born, as there would have been numbers of demons and fae around. They were all sent back, and the portals closed, but they always find new ways through.”
“So are demons bad and fae good?”
“Demons are,” Christian thought for a moment, “impulsive, elemental, they act first and think later. They can be very strong, and they love to fight. They also love the fae women and were notorious for taking them before the Accords.”
“So one of them took my mother.”
He shrugged. “I presume so. The fae would take the women back, but they considered any offspring to be abominations. They were given the right to destroy them as part of the Accords.”
“So the Order wants me dead as well.”
“I promise you, no one will touch you. You’re mine, and I keep mine safe.”
“So what about the fae, what are they like?”
“Proud, beautiful and they can do magic.”
“What sort of magic?”
“All kinds. It’s thought witches and warlocks have fae blood, though the fae would deny it.”
“So if the fae have magic, why did my mother need to go to the warlock?”
“She probably didn’t have enough strength left. Like any race, some are more powerful than others, and their powers differ. Some can see the future, some the present, and some can keep things hidden. It’s a sort of glamour; it hides what a thing truly is and makes it seem to be something else, but to do that for all these years takes a lot of power.”
“Your mother was a necromancer,” Jamie said. “She could bring life to the dead.”
“That explains Aunt Kathy. But I have none of these powers. I’m not super strong, and I can’t do magic.”
“My guess is the talisman suppressed the qualities it was designed to hide,” Christian said. “Given time your true self would emerge.”
“Only I’m not going to be given time.” Anger and frustration built inside her. Why couldn’t they leave her alone to get on with her life? She slammed her fist down on the table beside her. “It’s not fair!”