Chapter 23

CHAPTER23

There’s not much that we can do as Ediye heals and regains her power, and when she wakes she has nothing that leads us closer to understanding the next moves of the Nephilim following the attack at Mr. Hassan’s. Wynter and Roman are given a suite they rarely venture from, and Wynter has made it clear no Resurrectionist will be provided until Ediye recuperates enough to spellcast for whatever healing services she and Roman require. And until we get our Resurrectionist, the Council will not be complete, though I do manage to secure Cole as my lead advisor. Between Ediye’s recovery and the attack at the training ground, I’ve been keeping a low profile, and Ashen grows restless between interrogating anyone remotely related to the archer and the hidden threat of the Nephilim still lurking in the Living Realm. While I spend the days in Ediye’s suite as she steadily improves, he stalks the Shadow Realm with a surly iron fist. His disquiet rests in my lapis and gold mark like an ember, always burning.

It’s late on the third day of Ediye’s recovery when I return home with Urtur at my heels, entering a dark and quiet suite. I stand unmoving for a moment in the silent space, feeling a little unsettled by the weight of everything that needs to be done but the inability to actually do it. I pour a glass of fangria from the jug in the fridge and settle on the couch with the Book of the Fatespeaker on my lap, trying to make sense of the weathered pages, the ancient symbols, the random sections of translations from Dingir to Sumerian or Latin. But truthfully, it’s hard to make much headway learning a new language or deciphering ancient incantations with this sense of restlessness lapping at my bones.

It might seem a little surprising, but it’s very a welcome interruption when Ashen bursts through the door like a true fallen angel, all smoke and sparks and bottomless fury. The door slams shut behind him and Urtur’s tail thumps against the fur rug as though this is all perfectly normal.

I shut my book and watch as Ashen unstraps the scabbard from his body and thunks the sword onto a side table with a tense fist. He stalks to the sideboard, his snakeskin wings fluttering behind him as he moves within a cloudy black haze. He pulls a tumbler from the shelf, pouring a glass of brandy that he downs and immediately replenishes.

“Good day?” I ask with a sly smile as I set the book on the coffee table and sit up, uncrossing my legs. Ashen scowls at me over this edge of his glass, bright crimson rings surrounding the black flame that burns in his pupils. My smile broadens. “I see the wings are back. To whom shall I relay my thanks?”

“Duman,” Ashen says, spitting the name out as though it’s rotten on his tongue.

My head tilts, my eyes narrowing. “Duman? From House Mushussu?” Ashen nods once, finishing his drink only to fill it once more. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He was put out by the lack of a hunt this year.”

“Hunt? Hunting what?”

Ashen levels me with a look that says ‘you don’t want to know’. My guess would be crawlers, though who knows what other prey lurks in the fog. “Duman got drunk in Bit Akalum and decided to take matters into his own hands. He released all the hyenas. I have spent the last few hours with Cyrus rounding them up.”

“Why didn’t you come and get me? I could have helped.”

“No,” Ashen says, the fury flaring in his eyes. “It should not be up to you to sort out the childish behavior of those demons who cannot fall in line.”

Rage and frustration flow from Ashen and coat the room, even when he takes another drink, the liquor doing nothing to dull his agitation. He paces and glares at the window, the door, the ceiling, anywhere but me. Which, naturally, is exactly where I want it. All that danger and desire should really have a focal point, and vampires make very willing targets. Very willing.

“Why don’t you put all that fury to better use, demon?” I ask, trying to keep the wicked smile from my lips. Ashen darts a glance at me, not breaking his irritated stride.

“I have no interest in ripping his limbs off for a second time tonight,” Ashen growls.

“That’s not what I meant.” Ashen stills at the low timbre of my voice and stops to really look at me. I stand from the couch and grasp the hem of my shirt, sliding it up my body and over my head. I drop it to the floor as I take a step closer to the fuming demon, his eyes darkening as they latch onto my body. “Take it out on me.”

“Take it out…wife…no. I am too angry to be trusted,” Ashen says, taking a step back as I take another forward, my chest flaming with desire as the word wife echoes in my mind. But despite his protest, Ashen’s eyes roam the contours of scalloped lace that hugs my breasts, the curve of my waist.

“You could have kept ripping off limbs until your rage subsided, but you came home. You must have wanted comfort. And I can give it, though I make no promises about making it easy on you,” I say, giving the demon a devious grin as I undo the button of my jeans. I drag the zipper down slowly, tooth by metal tooth, then slide the waistband down over my hips. The denim pools at my feet and I take another step closer to the Reaper. He takes another back in return. “Ashen of House Urbigu, are you running away from me?”

“No,” he scoffs. We do another little dance of one step forward, one back, but he has nowhere left to go unless he wants to be absorbed by the wall. “Yes.”

“Well,” I say as I saunter closer to him. Ashen’s back presses against the wall, his wings splayed wide behind him against the white plaster. “You’re doing a terrible job of it, thankfully.” I press my hands to his chest and rise to my tip toes as I take his earlobe between my teeth, keeping my eyes trained on his shimmering snakeskin wings. “What are you so afraid of, Reaper?”

“Hurting you.”

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“You won’t.”

Those wings flutter against the wall. Smoke flows around them like spilled ink, coating the plaster, coasting across the floor. Ashen’s hand trails across my hip and splays across my back. His other joins it, and a breath later the clasp is released from my bra, the straps going slack over my shoulders. I pull back and look into his eyes, their red rings glowing with bright crimson light.

“I know you won’t hurt me, Ashen. I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he says as he pushes me back. The gleam in his eyes is deadly, but I feel more than just fury in my mark. There’s desire too, burning hotter with every breath. He pushes me another step as a slow and wicked smile grows on his lips. “Vampire…”

“Yes, Reaper?”

“Run.”

My smile broadens and I take a step back, then turn and bolt across the room. I run to the couch. My foot sinks into the cushions and I spring over the back. Ashen’s hand grazes my calf and I squeal. I run down the hall and nearly crash into the doorframe as I skid to a halt and pivot into the bedroom. But I don’t make it far. I’m halfway through the room when the force of Ashen’s body knocks into me from behind. Snakeskin wings and heat and smoke envelop me as we twist and fall, landing just short of the bed. Ashen cages me in his arms and grunts with the hit, and the momentum hasn’t stopped when his mouth is on my neck in a burning kiss, swallowing the tremor of my laugh.

“You have wings. How did you miss the bed? It’s right there,” I say through a giggle as Ashen’s roaming hands tickle my ribs.

“I couldn’t make it that far.”

“I might have to make you pay for that landing, Reaper.”

“Pay, hmm? How?”

“Direct deposit.”

Ashen’s huff of a laugh warms my neck before a gentle bite tugs on my earlobe as he eases his weight from my body. “Get on the bed, vampire.”

There is little in any realm that I enjoy more than telling this demanding demon, “No.”

“Please.”

I raise my hand to his hot cheek, the boil of rage still heating the blood beneath his skin. Poor thing. I almost feel sorry for him and how much I’ll make him suffer. I give him a slow, bright, devious smile. “Make me.”

A rumbling growl vibrates in the hollows of his chest as Ashen’s arm slips beneath my back, his wings soft against my skin where they remain wrapped around my body as they protected me during the fall. “Stubborn creature.”

“Creature? No, Ashen…” I say as he lifts us from the floor and closes the distance to the bed. “Not a stubborn creature, but a demanding Queen.”

“You may fight me all night if you wish, in everything I ask. And yet, Queen or not, you will still give me what I want in the end.”

“Will I though? I’m not so sure.”

“I am,” Ashen says, his wings fluttering across my back, the edge of each scale a crescent of warmth against my spine. He lays me down cocooned in his smoke and scent, a line of kisses searing my flesh from the edge of my jaw to my collarbone. I try not to shudder in the urgent need I feel with every press of his lips or grip of his fingers.

“And what is it that you want, exactly?” I ask as his nip to my breast draws a gasp from my lips. He suckles on the flesh, swirling his tongue around the bud of my tight nipple, relishing every catch of breath in my lungs with an answer in the stuttering beat of his heart. He takes his time to reply, first kissing his way to my other breast and devoting the same attention to it until I start to writhe with the need for friction.

“Calm yourself, vampire. Have patience,” Ashen whispers, his smile warm against my skin as it sends a flourish of goosebumps across my chest. “Beyond making you fall apart until all you can do is grovel for release, I only want some pretty words.”

“I bet I’m going to like this.”

“Tell me you love me.”

I can’t deny him that, even if we’re only playing a game. I stroke Ashen’s cheek until his eyes meet mine. “I do love you.”

The answering grin is so cocky and wicked that I have a fleeting urge to suck my words back in. “See? Was that so hard?”

I scowl and his eyes brighten with mischief. “What else?”

“Admit you were jealous back in Sanford when you saw me have a drink with Anna. Out loud.”

“Next,” I grit out. The red rings framing Ashen’s irises flare brighter in response. He can feel that burn of jealousy in my mark, he can see it in the blush that rises in my cheeks, but we both know the cheeky fucker wants it spoken. Fatfuckingchance of that coming easily. He’ll have to fuck it out of me. “Next, I said, Reaper.”

“Patience, I said, vampire.” To mark his point, he presses his lips to my neck and carves a slow path of hot kisses across my jaw. My fingers tighten their grip on the tense muscles of his arms as Ashen’s hand drifts across my mark, trailing a line of the lightest caress down the center of my stomach until he reaches the apex of my thighs. His hand hovers there, waiting, barely touching, grazing the lightest swirl over my clit. I try to bite down a moan but it comes anyway, and the warmth of Ashen’s skin evaporates as he removes his hand.

“You are infuriating.”

“You know what else is infuriating?”

“I have some guesses. Is it your refusal to get Netflix in the Shadow Realm? Your resistance to wearing anything other than dark colors? Your love of butter?”

“And thus you’ve deftly illustrated my point, vampire: that you are a brat. And on occasion, it would be deeply satisfying to see you acquiesce to my demands without argument.”

I cackle a sarcastic laugh. “Good luck fucking that agreement out of my mouth. I wish you well, Reaper. Are you done?”

“Not quite. One last thing.” Ashen’s eyes hold mine and I raise an impatient brow as I try to steady my breathing. “Call me husband.”

Aha.

The one thing he wants most. His favorite thing. A simple word that means the most to him.

I give him a slow, vampiric smile, filled with fangs and venom.

“We’ll see about that, Reaper.”

Ashen’s smile meets mine in its wickedness. “You’re right. We will. When your pussy is overflowing with my spend and you are fucked so thoroughly that even a whisper of my breath on your cunt makes you come, you will give it to me. You will beg me with it.”

A still and silent second stretches between us, and with just a breath Ashen crushes his lips to mine. His wings seem to heat against my skin, smoke curling around us. This kiss is not just coursing with need and desperation, but with promises. Ashen will do whatever it takes to get his requests out of me. I’ll do whatever it takes to hold them in.

The heat between us only increases as Ashen’s hand slowly passes down my ribs, gripping my hip before pushing my leg down from where I’ve wrapped it across his back. His fingers trail a tingling line up my inner thigh, a touch so light it’s little more than a whisper, so unlike the brutality of our kiss.

“You said you wanted to stoke the flames of a demon. Let me show you exactly how endlessly the fire of my desire for you burns.”