Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
The strands were so soft and sleek they almost felt cool to the touch. Like silk. And when her curls were fanned all over the pillow, he felt his gut clench. It took everything he had not to bury his hands in them.
Teague stared down at her. Fuck, she was beautiful. Everything he looked for in a woman—fearless, confident, badass, accepting, strong-willed. If their situations weren’t what they were, if things had been different . . . But they weren’t different. Never would be.
He gently squeezed her leg. “Sleep well, harpy.”
He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his libido firmly protesting and—
“I did not say you could leave.”
He halted. That wasn’t Larkin’s voice. Well, it was. But it wasn’t. Her tone was never flat and emotionless, unlike the one he’d heard mere seconds ago. Which meant that it wasn’t Larkin who spoke; it was her demon.
Teague slowly pivoted on the spot. The demon was sat upright, its pure black eyes focused on him. It slinked off the bed, fluid as a snake.
His own demon pushed close to the surface and watched as hers began to circle him. A predator appraising him somewhat objectively. As if he were an object as opposed to a person.
There was a light of something not quite sane in the dark orbs that stared at him. That light intrigued both him and his beast. But, not about to be continually circled as if he were prey, Teague flicked up a brow and asked, “Should I be flattered that you can’t seem to look away?”
The demon came to a stop in front of him and cocked its head. “I like the shape of your skull.”
He blinked at the matter-of-fact statement. A statement that was also a clear indication that the demon was contemplating what part of him it might keep as a trophy if it chose to kill him. “Uh, okay.”
“You and I must talk.”
Sounded ominous.
It backed him into the bed, pushed him down, and then straddled him.
Well, all right.
He splayed his hands on its thighs. “What do you want to talk about?”
The demon traced his hairline with a fingertip. “He will be trouble.”
“He? Your psi-mate, you mean?”
Something ugly rippled in its eyes. “He would have been my anchor if he were not worthless. I want to obliterate him so completely that it will be as if he never existed. But my killing him would create problems between the two lairs unless it is a matter of self-defense.”
“You want to provoke him,” Teague sensed, nodding in approval.
“It will be easy. He wants more than an anchor bond from her. Much more.” The demon poked his chest. “You will help me make him jealous. Then he will attack. And I will then shatter every bone in his body one by one, until he is a twisted, disfigured mess. It will be somewhat epic.”
Teague couldn’t help but smile. He really liked this demon. “Can I watch?”
It pursed its lips. “Perhaps. If you are still alive.”
“Still alive?”
“It may be that you have betrayed her between now and then. People seem to enjoy betraying her one way or another. If you join them in that, I will destroy you. But I will leave your skull intact and strip it down to the bone. It will make a nice ornament.”
He chuckled. “A nice ornament, huh?” His beast let out an amused chuff as it paced just beneath his skin, riveted by the entity, wanting its attention. “That’s not a compliment I’ve been paid before.”
Its head twitched to the side. “You do not fear me. Pity. I like the smell of fear. I like to see it dance in a person’s eyes.”
“I like whales.”
Its mouth slowly quirked, and then it giggled. The creepy sound trailed down his spine like icy fingers and made an honest to God’s shiver wrack his body.
“You are fun,” it said. “How strong is your pain threshold?”
“You want to torture me?”
“I would not kill you. Or break your mind. I would just like to see how you look when terror lights your gaze. It is such a shame that the emotion bleeds out of a person’s eyes when they die, or I would keep all their severed heads on shelves.”
A slow smile spread across Teague’s face. “I have to say, you fucking fascinate me.”
“Then you will sign up for a session in torture?”
He snorted. “Uh, no. Your assurances aside, I don’t trust that I’d definitely escape it alive.”
“Wise.” It frowned, adding, “She will soon wake. There is one thing I must do before I go.”
“What?”
It closed its mouth over his and sank its tongue inside. The demon palmed the side of his neck as it kissed him hard and wet and deep. Then the flesh beneath its hand began to prickle. Heat. Burn.
Teague hissed but didn’t pull away. Not only because what should have been pain instead became pleasure, but because he knew the demon wasn’t trying to harm him.