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  He wrapped his arms around her and dropped a lingering kiss on her shoulder. “Yes, I do.”

  “That’s a pile of pillows, not a bed.”

  Jaden let go of her and walked to the pillows. “This is where I sleep, therefore, it is my bed.” He bent to unlace his boots and take them off. She shrugged and took off her shoes and socks, too. The heat of his smile about combusted her right then and there. “Come here.”

  When she did, he put his hands on her shoulders and leaned toward her. The air smelled clean and sharp. A faint scent reminded her of sandalwood but she couldn’t tell if the odor came from the pillows or something else. He was close enough for her to see his eyelashes were black as soot. A tingle spread outward from her spine. He had the most incredible eyes she’d ever seen. She wasn’t doing this for his eyes, Hell reminded herself. She was doing this because nobody deserved to be enslaved.

  He knelt at the side of the bed. As he did, his hands slid down her body, leaving heat in their wake. He reached for her hand and tugged. “Sit.”

  She lowered herself to the pillows, nerves fluttering at the edge of panic. Jaden touched her cheek at the inside corner of her eye. “I understand you do not want this.” He traced a line beneath her eye, then spread his fingers over her cheek. “I will be a good mate for you.” His voice caressed her ears. “You will be safe with me, tes.” At her puzzled expression, he smiled. “Tes is what a demon male calls his beloved.”

  “Let’s get this over with, okay?”

  He reached behind his neck and untied his pony tail. Long, black-as-midnight hair fell past his shoulders. Silver threads glittered in both braids. Seeing him with his hair loose felt shocking and more intimate than if he were nude. His cheekbones looked even more angled, his mouth soft, and Hell couldn’t help the reaction of her body. He drew a short dagger from a sheath fastened to his belt. “Your arm.”

  She eyed the knife. “Will this hurt?”

  “A little.” Facing her, he tucked her wrist between his side and his upper arm. Their eyes met again and she swore she could feel the mental pulse of him. “Thank you, Hell. For my freedom.”

  “Do it. Before I lose my nerve.” She raised up on her knees to relieve the pressure on her shoulder and turned her head so she couldn’t see her arm or the knife. “I’m a wimp when it comes to pain.”

  “There are words you must say.” Hell was grateful for his matter-of-fact voice. “I will give them to you at the proper time.”

  He began to chant, a low sound that threatened at every moment to make sense, but never did. The words gathered around them at the heated air, pressing in on her. She flinched when he made a cut in a vein at the inside of her elbow, a quick, sure slice. Pain blossomed and then evaporated. She looked despite her queasiness. Blood welled and ran along the crease in her elbow to land in the cobalt bowl he’d set beneath her arm. He released her and fisted his hand. With the other, he nicked his arm in the same fashion and collected his blood in the bowl.

  His chant was in her head again, beating in time with her heart. Picking up the bowl, he tipped it over the cut in his arm. Bright droplets hit his skin and flowed toward the wound and all the while, he was chanting nonsense words. His body radiated heat. The air around them glowed amber. Her head throbbed, and a presence curled inside her. He stretched out her arm again and held the bowl over her cut. “Say these words, Helen Marshall.”

  Blood dripped onto her when with his help she repeated the sounds. Her skin sizzled and a trickle of warmth entered her arm and flowed into her. She stared at his face, watching his mouth move as the trickle heated and thickened. The shadow coalesced inside her and became an awareness that wasn’t her. She swayed. That dark presence was Jaden. She knew what he was. And everyone who’d ever said they’re not like us didn’t understand the half of it.

  He let go of her arm and reached for one of the tiny braids at his temple. Hell took a breath and tried to find someplace in her where Jaden was not. Her lungs wouldn’t expand, and she wondered if she would suffocate. Fear uncurled in her belly. Jaden touched her chin, lifting her face so she looked into his glowing amber eyes. Her panic receded, and she could breathe again. He separated one of the silver strands from his braid. With a low, dark word, the material changed in his hands, becoming a small braided circle that did not quite close. Smiling, he pushed her back against the pillows and replaced the ring in her belly button with the one he’d just made. Another word preceded a flash of amber light. She gasped at the sensation of heat through her piercing, a sharp burst of fire. He tugged once on the ring and whispered, “It is done, Helen Marshall.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was whispering in her ear or whether his words had worked their way inside her head. The sensation of his being inside her hadn’t stopped but was settling down, working through her and twining with her being. He’d said he didn’t think she would feel much of the bond, but he was wrong. Her awareness of him was physically and mentally visceral. There was a blackness to her sense of him that came from him having the sort of power that made his world one with few limitations. The reality of what he’d done took her breath. He’d entrusted her with his life. For as long as they lived, there would be no other women for him.

  “You are mine, now, Hell,” he whispered. He touched his lips to her forehead, and desire roared through her, overwhelming and uncontrollable, emotions foreign to her; his bitter satisfaction at having taken the one action that could see him free, resignation that the solution was permanent, remorse that he had acted and the conviction that his predicament had given him no choice but to tie himself forever to a human. And, there was his desire for her. Her, and no one else. He’d known all along it would be like that for him.

  She put her hands on either side of his face, tears burning behind her eyes because if not for Milos, he would never have done this. “I’m sorry, Jaden.”

  He pulled back to stare at her and as he did, his black hair brushed the backs of her hands. “You have no need to feel sorry.”

  “I’m still sorry,” she said.

  “But I am not. Not now.” He spread his fingers over her belly. Her skin shivered, a delicious sexual charge. “Are you all right?”

  ”I think so.” She reached for the ring he’d put in her navel and met his fingers, still splayed over her belly. “What is this?”

  “A gift. A mark every Bak-Faru male gives his mate.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “It is more usual to put this in a mate’s hair, tes, but yours is too short.”

  “Too bad.”

  He laughed and stroked a finger across her forehead. “You will always feel me, but with this—” He touched the ring, and she bowed off the pillows with the flood of sensation through her. His feelings, his desire, his darkness. “You will know me and be able to touch me as I touch you.”

  She sat up and was immediately woozy.

  “If you need my strength, Hell, use it.” He reclined on the pillows and put his palm on her back, a warm and solid contact. Her dizziness lessened.

  She turned around, looking down at him and found his eyes wandering her body. Not even Tuan had looked at her like that, as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “What if you need mine?”

  “I could use it.” His palm continued sliding over her skin. He placed her on the pillows next to him. He leaned over her, his hair a veil of black. His body lowered over hers, and he kissed her gently, tenderly, as if afraid of hurting her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. One hand moved from her belly to the waist of her pants. Her breath hitched. They’d talked about her being his mate, and she’d realized that must encompass a sexual relationship, but, she hadn’t equated that with his wanting her like this. It scared her, the depth of his feelings for her.

  The thing was, she’d wanted him long before this. Her desire wasn’t anything new. He was dark, she felt his otherness, qualities she happened to like in a man, and now he was also driving her out of her mind with longing. He wasn’t just in
contact with her body, either. His mind and his will, the dark and maleficent essence of him, was inside of her, feeding her and taking her inexorably toward pleasure.

  He slid down her zipper. One tug, and her pants were half way off. His fingers brushed her bare skin on the way down her legs and again on the way back, a slow, languorous upward caress. The entire time he was doing that, he kissed her, and his mouth was soft and gentle. This wasn’t like before when they’d been headed for sex, back there in the Lower. This time, he was going to make love to her. Jaden, a Bak-Faru demon, darkest of the dark demons, was going to put his body inside hers, and she was going to welcome him.

  Jaden hooked a finger in the waist of her panties. Her white cotton low rider briefs went sailing off to wherever her pants went, and Jaden touched her there, a gentle brush, an electrifying flick. Her breath came in ragged huffs. She was trying to catch up to what had just happened to her, but sensations she didn’t understand flooded her, thoughts that weren’t hers, alien feelings that caught her up, and then there was his skin, hot beneath her fingers, the scent of him, something dark and mysterious and beyond arousing. His fingers curved around her hips and his chest slid along her skin, his thigh brushed her legs. With nimble hands, he unhooked her bra. She watched his eyelids flutter closed while he touched her. His mouth was hot on her breast, her shoulder, her belly, and then between her legs, his tongue slow, the pressure almost unbearable. She tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him on. With Tuan, she’d never been able to entirely lose her restraint, but with Jaden, she had no restraint at all. She shattered within moments.

  His mouth came off her to be replaced by his fingers and a moment later his arm went around her waist, moving her further up the mound of pillows. His body followed. Black hair fell around her, onto her shoulders and against her cheeks. “Beautiful,” he said, but once again, she didn’t know if he’d spoken out loud or in her head. “You’re beautiful, Hell.”

  He rolled to one side and worked at his pants. Golden-bronze skin stretched over muscle, and she felt weak when she saw his naked body. She put a hand to his chest, and he stilled while she touched him. Inside, she quivered with desire. Heat centered in her belly and between her legs. His body was perfect for her, everything about him aroused her. His penis was erect, and she was dying to touch him there, dying to have that inside her.

  As if he’d read her mind, and maybe he had, Jaden pulled himself over her, naked, his fevered skin sliding over hers like warm silk. “Beautiful Hell, you’re the first,” he said.

  Her heart did a jitter step. “What?”

  “I have never mated with a human female.” He kept one hand propped on the pillows while the other slithered down her side to her hip and then to the back of her thigh, lifting her leg so he was cradled closer to her body. “I have heard many things about human women.” His penis strained against her belly, and she pressed against him. Jaden’s mouth curved in a whole new smile. “I have heard you are cold inside and that because you are small, a demon male feels more pleasure. That you like to ride a male without mercy, and I have heard that your tongues are deformed so you are able to drive a male out of his wits with pleasure. Can your tongue do that?”

  “Uh, I could try.”

  His smile turned wickeder yet. “I have heard that because human men are weak and cannot change their form to please their females, human women are eager to mate with a Bak-Faru demon.”

  She threw her arms around him and pulled him close. “Jaden, what are you waiting for?”

  “You,” he said. “Only you.” He adjusted his pelvis and slid inside with a groan of pleasure rumbling in the back of his throat. Just like that, her world changed. He was inside her body. Jaden was inside of her, moving, touching, his body sliding against hers, his hair so dark around his face his eyes looked like fire. He was hard and stretching her. He slowed, waiting for her body to adjust. She arched against him, needing to take as much of him inside her as she could. Their connection stopped time. A growl rose in his throat, an un-human sound that thrummed between her ears. He put his weight on his palms and pushed his shoulders up and his hips inward and forward.

  He was as much inside her head as he was inside her body. She found a world expanded into heat and emotion. She could feel his magic, practically touch the malevolent source. He drew her into him, his emotions, the cresting urgent instinct to mate, and she met him without reservation. He was inside her head, sharp blackness in a maelstrom of darkness and heat, and he was feeding her his reactions, taking more and more control of her body because he needed the dominant role. He was holding back because he was afraid of hurting her when, in fact, he wanted rougher sex and more control.

  “You’re not hurting me,” she said. And he wasn’t. Her mouth traveled down his throat to his shoulder, and she bit him. He growled. The rhythm of their lovemaking increased, the edge of Jaden’s need to dominate rolled through her. She responded to the rawness. Moments before she would have come again, he pulled out of her and turned her onto her stomach. One of his hands slid around her stomach to her belly button to tug gently on her navel ring as he entered her. Hell’s body went taut. He cupped her hips. He knew she wanted to touch him, to explore his body, but he denied her because he had no intention of allowing his first mating with her to be anything other than what his nature demanded from them both.

  He fed her images of her pale spine and the fit of her backside to his pelvis, his hands holding her hips. He gave her the coolness of her skin under his palms, the slick pressure of her around his cock, the tightness of his balls. She was cooler than a demon female, and he found that arousing. She felt different to him, physically and mentally. Foreign, and exotic, and he liked that, too. His belly was hot against her backside, his penis sliding in hard. She felt a shift in the distribution of his weight, the scrape of his skin against hers.

  “The Bak-Faru are shapeshifters,” he said into her head. He propped his weight on one hand, and through half open eyes, through a mind drugged with arousal, she saw a hand that wasn’t human. He leaned back on his haunches, taking her with him, one arm tight around her waist. An un-human hand traveled the length of her thigh while his hot breath scoured the back of her neck. He’d made his penis thicker and his body gave off enough heat that her skin was soon covered in a layer of reactive sweat. She was beyond any edge she’d ever thought existed. Jaden turned her to face him again, settling her against the pillows. He’d taken a monstrous shape, an unwordly, snouted, be-clawed creature. She held out her arms. The beast morphed into the form she knew as Jaden, her beautiful, bronze-skinned, black-haired demon.

  Jaden took her in his arms again, and she embraced him. He came inside her and growled, and she convulsed around him. She felt him take her orgasm and ride it, pushing her beyond anything she’d ever experienced and then he joined her, his climax roared through her until she fell at last into the malevolent embrace of his mind.

  After a while, he said softly, “Are you sorry to be bound to me?”

  “No.” And it was the truth. She wasn’t sorry.

  “Another time,” he said, keeping her in his embrace, “another time you will do with me what you will.”

  She rolled onto her stomach and rested a hand on his belly. “Is that a promise?”

  “Always.” He kissed her again, and she was ready to start all over, but he sighed and pushed himself upright. Her heart fell because she knew what he was going to say before he said it. “It’s time to find Milos, Hell.”

  “Give me your comms, Jaden. Or a cell, if you have one. We’re not going to meet him without some back up.” When he gave it to her, she punched numbers on the comms. “West?” she said when he picked up on the other end. “Hell calling.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The offices of Marshall Investigations, make that Marshall and Lightfeather Investigations, consisted of a rented room in a cruddy upstairs space she shared with palm reader and seer Madam Lakisha. An insurance agent had another office and a Conversion C
ounselor who seemed to lose more clients than he saved these days took the third. They all shared the restroom and a windowless conference room/seance parlor, which was where she and Jaden were when Milos walked in with Elijah Douglas. Jaden, in human form, was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He had on a fresh shirt and his Ray-Bans in order to hide his eyes.

  She wore one of Jaden’s black tee-shirts and sweat dampened the back. She felt Jaden’s presence. He was a part of her now, and she was a little freaked to think that wasn’t going to change. Ever. Her pulse kicked into double time when Elijah and Milos sat at the battered table. Hell tried to figure out how to tell Elijah was possessed, but she couldn’t. Not from looking at him. She tipped her chin toward the werewolf. “What’s he doing here?” she asked Milos.

  “He…contacted me after that unfortunate incident at Mimouza.” Milos had dark circles under his eyes, and the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth seemed deeper than she remembered, but maybe that was the lighting; a cheap, under-wattage chandelier for evenings when the conference room hosted a seance. His attention fixed on Jaden. “I don’t know if I can save your deal, Hell,” he said. “This hasn’t gone as planned.”

  “You have Elijah. And you know I can get you Tuan Ng. Let’s start talking.” She reached for the pitcher of water and poured a glass. Her hands shook. Milos must be feeling pretty confident because he hadn’t done even a cursory sweep for bugs. Which he should have. In the back of her head, Jaden was a presence, a constant awareness. His hatred for Milos was dark and edged with fire. She felt, too, the compulsion Milos had over Jaden and Jaden’s resentment. She shared his outrage. “Water, Milos?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She avoided looking into the werewolf’s eyes. “Mr. Douglas?”

  The werewolf shook his head. His body stayed in motion, a finger tapping the top of his thigh, a foot shifting on the floor, never still for a moment. Like Milos, his attention was on Jaden. The room felt like it was going to combust.