Chapter Four

It was daylight once more when Jacob floated down through Noah's manor until he was in the vault, one moment dust dancing through the incandescent light, the next coming to rest lightly on his feet. He looked around the well-lit catacomb, seeking his prey. He heard a rustling sound from the nearest stacks and moved toward it.

There was a soft curse, a grunt, and the sudden slam of something hitting the floor. Jacob came around just in time to find Isabella dangling from one of the many shelves, her feet swaying about ten feet above the floor as she searched with her toes for a foothold. On the ground below her was a rather ancient-looking tome, the splattered pattern of the dust that had shaken off it indicating it had been the object he had heard fall. Far to her left was the ladder she had apparently been using.

With a low sigh of exasperation, Jacob altered gravity for himself and floated himself up behind her. "You are going to break your neck."

Isabella was not expecting a voice at her ear, considering her peculiar circumstances, and she started with a little scream. One hand lost hold and she swung right into the hard wall of his chest. He gathered her up against himself, his arm slipping beneath her knees so she was safely cradled, his warmth infusing her with a sense of safety and comfort as he brought her down to the floor effortlessly. In spite of herself, she pressed her cheek to his chest.

"Must you sneak up on me in midair like that? It's very unnerving."

She had meant to sound angry, but the soft, breathless accusation was anything but. Anyway, how angry would he think her to be if she was snuggling up to him like a kitten? Damn it, Demon or not, he was still a sinfully good-looking man. Jacob was elegant to a fault, his movements and manner centered around an efficiency of actions that drew the eye. He was dressed again in well-tailored black slacks, and this time a midnight blue dress shirt with his cuffs turned back. She could feel the rich quality of the silk beneath her cheek, and when she breathed in, Jacob smelled like the rich, heady Earth he claimed his abilities from.

Besides all the outwardly alluring physicality, Isabella knew that he was extremely sensitive about all his interactions with others. She could feel his moral imperatives tingling through her mind whenever he was near. His heart, she knew, was made of incredibly honorable stuff. How could she find it in herself to be afraid of that? Especially when he had never once hurt her, even though there had been plenty of influences compelling him to.

"Shall I put you back and let you plummet to your death?" he asked, releasing her legs and letting her body slide slowly down his until her feet touched the floor.

The whisper of the friction of their clothes hummed across Jacob's skin, and he felt his senses focusing in on every nuance of sensation she provided for him. The swishing silk of her hair even in its present tangled state, the sweet warmth of her breath and body, the ivory perfection of her skin. He reached to wipe a smudge of dust from her delectable little nose. She was a mess. There was no arguing that. Head to toe covered in dust and grime, and she smelled like an old book, but those earthy scents would never be something unappealing to one of his kind. Jacob breathed deeply as the usual heat she inspired stirred in his cool blood. It was stronger with each passing moment, with each progressive day, and he never once became unaware of that fact. He tried to tell himself it was merely the effects of the growing moon, but that reasoning did not satisfy him. Hallowed madness would not allow for the unexpected compulsion toward tenderness he kept experiencing whenever he looked down into her angelic face. It would never allow him to enjoy these simple yet significant stirrings of his awareness without forcing him into overdrive. True, he was holding on to his control with a powerful leash of determination. He was tamping down the surges of want and lust that gripped him so hard sometimes it was nearly crippling, but somehow it was still different.

Then he had to also acknowledge the melding of their thoughts as something truly unique. Perhaps a human could initiate such a contact if they were a medium or psychic of noteworthy ability, but she made no claims to such special talents. Every day the images of her mind became clearer to him. She had even taken to consciously sending him visual impressions in response to some discussion they were having with Noah, Elijah, and Legna. He believed that, if things continued to progress in this manner, he and Bella would soon be engaging in actual discussions with each other without ever opening their mouths. He didn't have fact to base that assumption on, but it seemed the natural evolution to the growing silent communication between them.

He had seen Legna staring at them curiously on several occasions. Luckily, because she was a female Mind Demon, she was not a full telepath. If she had been a male she would have been privy to some pretty private exchanges between him and Isabella. Nothing racy, actually, but he found Isabella had such an irreverent sense of humor that he wasn't sure others would understand it as he seemed to.

It was a privacy of exchange he found himself coveting. It was the one way they could be together without Legna or Noah interfering. It was bad enough that the empath was constantly sniffing at his emotions, making sure he kept in careful control of his baser side. Since the King was not able to subject him to the usual punishment that was meted out for those who had crossed the line as he had with Isabella, he had been forced to be a little more creative. Setting Legna the empathic bloodhound on him had done the trick. It was also seriously pissing him off. He knew she was always there, and it burned his pride like nuclear fire.

What was more, he couldn't keep his mind away from Isabella. And since even the smallest thought of her had a way of sparking an onslaught of fantasies that brought his body to physical readiness—well, it was the very last thing he wanted an audience for.

It had taken quite a bit of planning, and the deceptive use of herbal tea mixtures, in order to slip out from under Legna's observation so he could sneak away to the vault. The empath slept as soundly as the dead, and she would stay that way until this evening.

"I wouldn't have fallen to my death," Bella was arguing, her stubborn streak prickling. "At the most, I would have fallen to my broken leg or my concussion or something. Boy, you Demons have this way of making everything seem so intense and pivotal."

"We are a very intense people, Bella."

"Tell me about it." She wriggled out of his embrace, putting distance between them with a single step back. Jacob was well aware of it being a very purposeful act. I've been reading books and scrolls as far back as seven hundred years ago. You were just a gleam in your daddy's eye then, I imagine."

"Demons may have long gestation periods for their young, but not seventy-eight years' worth."

"Yes. I read about that. Is it true it takes thirteen months for a female to carry and give birth?"

"Minimum." He said it with such casual dismissal that Bella laughed.

That's easy for you to say. You don't have to lug the kid around inside of you all that time. You, just like your human counterparts, have the fun part over with like that." She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

His dark eyes narrowed and he reached to enclose her hand in his, pulling her wrist up to the slow, purposeful brush of his lips even as he maintained a sensual eye contact that was far too full of promises. Isabella caught her breath as an insidious sensation of heated pins and needles stitched its way up her arm.

"I promise you, Bella, a male Demon's part in a mating is never over like this." He mimicked her snap, making her jump in time to her kick-starting heartbeat.

"Well"—she cleared her throat—"I guess I'll have to take your word on that." Jacob did not respond in agreement, and that unnerved her even further. Instinctively, she changed tack. "So, what brings you down into the dusty atmosphere of the great Demon library?" she asked, knowing she sounded like a brightly animated cartoon.

"You."

Oh, how that singular word was pregnant with meaning, intent, and devastatingly blatant honesty. Isabella was forced to remind herself of the whole Demon-human mating taboo as the forbidden response of heat continued to writhe around beneath her skin, growing exponentially in intensity every moment he hovered close. She tried to picture all kinds of scary things that could happen if she did not quit egging him on like she was. How she was, she didn't know, but she was always certain she was egging him on.

"Why did you want to see me?" she asked, breaking away from him and bending to retrieve the book she had dropped. It was huge and heavy and she grunted softly under the weight of it. It landed with a slam and another puff of dust on the table she had made into her own private study station.

"Because I cannot seem to help myself, lovely little Bella."

The thick silk of his voice slithered down her neck and spine, making her shiver. She reached up and shoved back her dusty hair, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Okay, umm … Demon plus human equals … big bad things, remember? Full moon? October? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"You think I do not know that?" The question was low, sounding dangerous. "Do I seem out of control to you, Bella? Do you really think, even for a moment, that I would hurt you?"

"No, I don't think so." She finally met his piercing gaze. "But you weren't exactly you yesterday, now were you? And the night we first met? Didn't you say yourself it can hit any of you at any time? No one is immune." Bella moved to face him, her arms crossing her tummy from hip to hip. "Do you forget that I've seen the worst of a Demon's lust? I close my eyes sometimes and see Saul looming over me. That scares me, Jacob. I don't want it to, but it does."

Jacob's fingers curled into themselves, forming tight fists that were a signal of his building upset. She sensed it bothered him greatly to know she was afraid of him, that she was comparing the possibilities between them to her encounter with a perverted monster. However, it was the truth of her feelings, or some of them, and he needed to know it. She may have been caught up into his world by Destiny or whatever, but that didn't mean she was going to disregard her personal safety. Nor would she put any of his friends at risk. She was coming to care for Legna already, the stunning empath's purity of soul so beautiful and guileless that she could not help her growing fondness for her. After yesterday morning's display of Noah's power, she refused to even think of putting Jacob into confrontation with him. She also had a very clear feeling that the Demon Enforcer did not have very many friends, that Noah held exclusive rights to such an exalted position in Jacob's esteem.

It bothered Bella that she disturbed Jacob so much. It was like being an incredibly mean tease, stirring him up and having no intention of following through. It didn't matter that she wasn't trying to do it, it just mattered that it was what happened.

"Maybe I should leave," she said faintly, turning to shuffle papers into innocuous positions on her desk. "Maybe someone else should do this research. Noah has so much more experience in this than I do. I can read the English texts, even the Latin ones, but I can't read the works that are in whatever language that is. You have Demon scholars, and I'm just a human …"

"No. We need you." His tone was as firm as stone.

"So you say. All I know is that I'm a distraction to you, Jacob. One you don't need right now, from what I've been reading."

"You will not leave." It was a command, deep and forceful, filled with his frustration. Then he seemed to realize what he was saying and sighed, shoving his hand through his long, loose hair in agitation. "If you were out of the realm of my … my people's protection, then you would see the meaning of the word distraction" he promised her.

"There you go again. Is everything so extreme for you people?"

"Yes." His hand came out to frame her face, turning her around to look up fully into his eyes, his fingertips moving in a soft, tantalizing massage at the spot in front of her ear where her hairline began. "I will tell you this, Isabella. In my very lengthy lifetime, I have been single-minded in my devotion to a great many things for a great many other people. But you … you are the first thing I feel compelled to be devoted to for myself and myself alone. Do not think it is the Hallowed moon that makes me talk this way. I assure you, it is something much deeper than that, something far more cogent than such astrological fickleness."

"Jacob …" Isabella was breathless. Why couldn't a normal male say things like that to her? Finally someone romantic, fascinating, and intelligent comes along, and he turns out to be not even of the same species. Just her luck.

Jacob smiled, a broad toothy grin.

"I am a normal male," he insisted.

"Hey! Stop doing that!" She covered her head with both hands. "Don't read my mind. That's not fair."

"Fair? What does fairness have to do with it? I do not know why I am able to sense your thoughts, but since I have the ability, it is practical to use it."

"Well, it isn't ethical!" Her hands popped onto her hips, making him smile. "Sometimes very private things go through my head, and you have no business snooping into them. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should."

"I understand that. However, you are the one who keeps tossing images at me when we are in public. Some of them quite disrespectful of my King and Elijah, I might point out." His eyes were twinkling with suppressed amusement as she thrust up her chin stubbornly.

"Those were given, not taken. Do I take things out of your head without your permission?"

"I do wish you would," he said softly, the suggestiveness of the simple statement sending a shiver up the back of her neck.

"Well"—she cleared her throat—"I'll thank you to keep out of my head. And since you mention it, you are about as normal as a hurricane."

"Yes, but there is even a time when hurricanes are considered normal."

Jacob smiled when she released a frustrated little growl, the sound striking him more as sexy than petulant or dangerous, as she might have wished it to be. He reached out to touch her throat before he could curb the impulse, feeling it vibrate with the sound for all of a second before his touch startled her and made her gasp. He felt her swallow, felt her breathe. Such living, vital reflexes. He could feel her pulse. Felt it quicken. No sooner had her blood begun to rush than he was being filled with her scent again. It was toxic to him, like too much candy, making his world tilt just a little off its axis. That primitive part of him stirred, lifted its head out of its controlled slumber.

Isabella saw black fire leap into his dark chocolate eyes. She held her breath, momentarily entranced as hunger licked hotly through his irises, turning them completely black. Those lustrous eyes were skimming over her, devouring her without so much as a touch. She was acutely aware of his power, his strength, and all the things he could turn and bend to his will if he but concentrated hard enough. It was not lost on her that she was quickly becoming one of those things. Whenever he came near, she inevitably bowed to him like a flower seeking the sun.

"Like roots seeking nourishment from the soil," he corrected, plucking her mental simile from her and turning it into one that suited him and his nature better. "But perhaps that would better describe myself, little flower." His voice was as warm as sun-baked earth. "Whenever I see you, I am overcome with the urge to be rooted within you, to be buried deep so your body can nourish me."

The imagery was like lightning coursing through her. It left Isabella panting gently for breath and brought slivers of quicksilver heat through her veins. Her head was bending backward, tilting her face up to his to meet the fractional lowering of his head. His eyes targeted the parted swell of her mouth.

She swayed closer to him, her body so raptly in tune with his that, if he shifted a shoulder forward, she would match the movement. She did this in such a way that, should they make contact, she would fit into the line of his body perfectly. Hunger clawed through Jacob relentlessly, his nostrils flaring as they filled with that exotic scent that was 100 percent Bella.

This time, Jacob's mouth was infinitely tender when it contacted hers. So much so that if not for the sparkle of heat that flushed her lips, she would have felt no contact. He pressed himself onto her incrementally, smiling against her mouth when she made a little sound of frustration at his taunting pace. He let her decide when she was ready, held so still but for gentle, breathy rubs of his lips against hers. Her hands reached out and curled with unconscious longing into his shirt. She was trying to pull him closer, but he would not obey her.

Come to me, little flower, if you want me. Come to me.

Isabella's blood was roaring in her ears so loudly that she almost didn't hear the soft, beckoning voice in her mind. Either way, she had decided she was through with his toying. She surged up onto her toes, thrusting her body upward into his, her mouth capturing his greedily. He opened instantly for the aggressive sweep of her tongue, groaning low in his soul as she fluttered like a soft, sensual butterfly within his mouth.

Both of his hands swept up into her silky hair, capturing her delicate head, pulling her deeper into him. As aggression switched hands, Isabella's body bowed backward, curving, fitting to his, and soaking up the hard heat he was giving off in great, stunning waves. Jacob's hands flexed tight as she locked herself against him. His tongue swept over hers with obvious hunger. His breath rushed so hotly across her mouth and cheek that she felt scorched by it Isabella returned the intensity by sliding her hands up the back of his neck and into the depths of his rich hair, holding him as tightly to the kiss as he was holding her.

Jacob felt the slight sharpness of her nails as they traveled up the sensitive length of his neck, and the recoil of response that sprang through his body was awesome in both heat and primitivity. They unfurled within him, flexing every muscle in anticipation until Isabella found herself clinging to a man made of granite. The contrasts to the soft workings of her beautifully seductive mouth were astounding. Clearly she didn't mind that his mouth was the only relaxed part of his body. That is, if he could call his aggressive hunger as he devoured her sweet taste an exhibition of relaxation. She let him crush her against his stone-hard body, and she bent willingly beneath his intensity as he kissed her.

Her mouth was warm and lush, like a Brazilian jungle, and equally full of wondrous surprises. She kissed with wickedly adept skill, improving on herself every second. Somehow she always knew just how to match him, how to tantalize him further until he was groaning against her lips. Bella herself was gasping into his mouth, her clutching fingers in his hair urgent and demanding. Her petite, luxuriant body squirmed against his like a desert snake fitting itself into a tight cubby of rocks.

Violent, urgent demand clawed through him; it moved with sharp fingers of ice in amongst the burning of his body, just to be sure he would feel it as acutely as possible, to secure his entire attention.

Jacob suddenly broke off, jerking Isabella back by the hair as if he would put her at a distance. She swayed in his grasp, suspended between his desires as a war raged in his obsidian eyes. His fingers were gripping her scalp in a desperate massage of conflicting needs. He was shaking, and she could feel it. So strong, so powerful, yet quaking as if conflicting plates of the Earth were rubbing each other raw.

The discord lasted all of a couple of heartbeats, and then wild nature took over. Isabella cried out as his arms circled her like bands of steel and jerked her relentlessly against his rock-hard body. His mouth returned to hers, devouring her deeply, tasting her as if she were a glutton's favorite delicacy. His arousal was a palatable thing, and she savored it against her tongue, the bouquet of it as intoxicating as strong wine. He tasted of all the spices of the Earth combined in a heady flavor that sang like sensual music through her senses. Isabella felt his strong fingers molding to the curve of her back, sliding slowly over each contour, heading with purpose toward the bow of her waist, the flare of her hips. She pulled back ever so slightly to draw a breath, her lips glistening with the honey of their mouths. Jacob couldn't bear the sight or the separation. It was too much like denial, and he was through with that He reached to recapture her, his kiss punishing in power and dominance, a reprimand in passion for depriving him of her when she knew he couldn't bear it.

Jacob groaned, the sound boiling up from the deepest regions of his body. He was being strangled by the restriction of his clothing, more so by the press of her body and her hands as they began to move over him with sudden liberty. He cupped her sweetly rounded bottom in both hands and she eagerly leapt up as he lifted her feet from the floor. She was so light, so tiny, like a precious, delicate fairy flying up against his towering body.

But the pixie had bite, as he soon was reminded. She slung one knee over his hip and nipped playfully at his lower lip in distraction. He wasn't expecting her other leg to snake so quickly around him so that he was suddenly caught in the erotic vise of her legs. Her torso rose up high in his embrace, their mouths separating as she gripped the back of his head, pulling him toward the fullness of her breasts.

It was another scent, different and the same all at once. Pure, he thought hotly, as the sharp tang of musk drifted up from her skin. She shuddered violently in his hold. He felt her memories of their first encounter flitting through her mind, felt her yearn for a repeat of what it felt like to have his touch on her breasts. Her eager desire inundated him, and within seconds he had jerked her T-shirt up and over her head, flinging it aside carelessly.

She watched as he focused on her bare breasts, his gaze completely transfixed, his hand slowly skimming over the top of one, then traveling to the other. His touch was feather light and maddening. This curious exploration was nothing like the demand to claim her that had motivated him the last time, nothing like the more aggressive needs she could feel radiating from him now with every fiber of her being. She was not ignorant of the danger she was in. She couldn't be any longer. She could feel it as he insinuated himself around all of her thoughts and emotions, and she around his. Inside each other. The actual joining of their physical bodies would be necessary to perfect them. That knowledge left a bereft place within her, as if she were hollowed out and incomplete because he wasn't already within her.

Jacob's touch narrowed to a single fingertip that skied down the slope of her left breast until it was just a lone fingernail that scraped over her rigid nipple. Isabella jerked sharply, unprepared for the spear of heat the simple touch sent rocketing through her. His mouth caught up her nipple the very next second, drawing it deep into the warm, wet home of his playful tongue. He suckled her and she moaned loudly, wriggling with frustration and pleasure in his single-armed embrace. A pulse of heat seeped down the center of her so hot and so wet that it burst the confines of her body. She was flooded with moisture, the beckoning nectar pooling hotly at the juncture of her thighs.

Jacob released her from his mouth, her sensitive body suddenly endangered by the need roaring through him as her fragrance swept his extraordinary senses. He jerked her forward against himself, his face burrowing beneath her hair where her neck met her shoulder. His teeth latched onto her with no warning whatsoever. He couldn't help himself. She was his mate, and he had to make it known to her and all those who thought to come near her.

Isabella gasped loud and long as his teeth pierced her skin, serious enough to mark her but stopping before causing truly painful damage. His hand wrapped around her throat, holding her still as a bestial growl of possession boiled out of him. His thoughts, dark and primitive, swept fiercely through her.

I am Jacob the Enforcer, a Demon of the dominant Earth. I am every blade of grass, every song of life that is sung on the planet. I am what has been from the beginning of all time, both known and unknown. I am every predator, and like them, I make it known that this female is mine by leaving my mark upon her. My scent will bleed into hers, just as hers already becomes a part of mine. She will smell of my body, of my essence, and it will also mark her as mine.

Satisfied by this knowledge, Jacob released her, his tongue sweeping the wound he'd made before continuing up the line of her throat with voracious hunger for the taste of her skin and the scent of her body. Every so often his tongue would leave the path and his teeth would scrape her sensitive neck. Every time that happened, her small body clenched and expectant gooseflesh bubbled up all over her skin.

Then his hands were raising her up to his hungry mouth as he found the hollow of her throat, her collarbone, and the track of her breastbone. He broke away to chase a bead of perspiration that slipped down the valley between her breasts, catching it with the tip of his tongue. He dragged that velvet tool across her skin until he was drawing a thrusting nipple into his mouth.

Isabella was already half mindless with arousal as Jacob shifted his hold and footing. Still locked around his waist, she felt him press her back against an uneven surface. She realized they were leaning against the spines of rows of books stacked tightly onto the shelf that was behind her. Then his hands were at the snap of her jeans, and all of her attention shifted in shock.

Instinctively, her hands flew to cover his, but his mouth was devouring hers in that very second, making her go weak from head to toe, kissing her relentlessly until her hands dropped away nervelessly. All she could do was fumble for a hold on his shoulders, mindlessly responding to the passion that made her burn to kiss him with every ounce of her will and strength.

She felt his hand slide down over her bottom again, but this time he was even closer to her skin, having slipped his fingers past the loosened denim of her pants. The material slid lower, lower still. The fabric set her sensitive skin to screaming as it slid down her thighs. Her legs went lax as he supported all of her weight in a single hand, pushing the jeans from her body effortlessly and then urging her legs back to their embrace around his waist, not realizing in his haste and passion that his nails scored her in bright, feral red lines along her upper thigh. All the while, his mouth never separated from hers, and she was engaged beyond caring.

Jacob was suddenly free to touch her anywhere he wanted to, the lace of her panties the only barrier remaining between him and his ability to experience her skin. He splayed his fingers over the shuddering muscles of her belly.

"You are so soft," he groaned, breaking from her mouth and burying his face into the side of her neck again. "Your scent, Bella. It intoxicates me."

His voice was coarse even to his own ears. He opened his mouth on the side of her neck, sliding his hot tongue up its delicate length, dipping it into the hollow below her earlobe. His breath blew hot into her hair, over her skin, the speed chilling the sensitive back of her neck in spite of its heated temperature.

Jacob's hand slid down her belly, and Isabella was inundated with sensation coming from so many different places all at once. She had never known her senses could be so aroused, so tormented. Then his fingertips slid past the border of her panties, sliding silkily into the collection of curls hidden beneath the lace.

Her reaction was like tinder suddenly catching a flame. She made a wild, mewling sound, her hands flying out to her sides to suddenly grip whatever she could get hold of. Her fingers curled tightly around spines and tightly packed pages. Her whole body clenched violently, her hands jerking the books clean off the shelves. They slammed to the floor, dual bangs that marked the slip of first one finger, and then another, into wet, silky flesh.

Isabella was filled with an unexpected, wild terror. No one had ever touched her in this manner. In fact, no one had ever done half of the things to her that Jacob had been doing. As she gasped hysterically for breath and looked down at her body in his embrace, she realized that her wanton reactions would have never given that particular fact away.

"Jacob!" she cried, her hands scraping frantically at his shoulders as her fear mounted, choking off her ability to breathe.

"Shh, little flower, I will not hurt you." The soothing tone of his voice washed over her, dulling every sharp edge of fear just slightly. "Just feel, Bella. Feel what my touch can create in you."

His voice was hypnotic and seductive, as if he had Legna's power to affect the will of others with it. She knew without a doubt that he spoke the truth. If she just relaxed, he would show her everything—every last thing she had dreamed of, and even things she could never have imagined. As she hesitated, as she was lured by that temptation, Jacob slid a long, seeking finger into the sheath of her body.

Bella gasped, the stuttering intake of sound reverberating loudly in the enormous library. Jacob exhaled a heated curse in his own language, the word clearly meant as an intense, expressive compliment. She laughed at him breathlessly, without knowing why. Probably because of the rise in sensation and frustration the intimate touch created.

Jacob felt her shudder, marveled at how tight she felt around his finger, how her very insides quivered with delicious, eager little spasms. He could pleasure her, just like this, make her completely mad with sensation and passion until she had no choice but to explode with it Sweet Destiny, who would have thought she could be so responsive? Never had a woman fired so hotly under his touch. Never had a woman set him to bum as his little Bella was so easily able to do. She had her legs wrapped around both the man and the no-longer-hidden beast that were his make-up, and no one could ever have touched him that profoundly before. He pressed his thumb against the swell of feminine flesh that he knew would fill her with sensation, rubbing in minute, slow circles, moving his touch with deft, compelling skill in a stroking mock of what he would soon be doing to her body for real. She moaned, writhing against him, her reactions making him burn hotter and harder for her until he thought he might explode under the erotic duress. He wanted to rip free of the confines of his clothing, slide the throbbing and painful hardness of his aching sex against her … toying at that tight entrance for a moment before plunging himself deep into that taut, honeyed prison he was positive was meant to capture him and hold him forever. He pushed his insistent finger a little deeper into her body, just a moment longer, wanting to be fully assured that she was ready for him …

Resistance.

Jacob went very, very still. Something extremely important was swimming on the outside of his awareness, but he was deeply consumed with his need for her, instincts created at the birth of the Earth chaining him to his course. He broke out in a terrible sweat as she wriggled mindlessly against his frustratingly, abruptly still touch. So wet, and hot … and so tight.

Unused.

The realization hit Jacob like ice water.

Suddenly, reality came washing back in on him. Everything. All of it He closed his eyes, groaning with agony as his body rebelled against his impulses to follow his sense of moral right. The beast in him argued that he had already gone too far, that he had broken all threads with honor the moment he had plotted to come to her without monitoring. What was more, Isabella was protesting against his cruel touch that made contact but did not fulfill the promise of pleasures he now realized she didn't realistically comprehend. How had he missed this important truth all this time he had traveled as a shadow in her mind?

Jacob realized he had not missed it. He had simply chosen to ignore the clues on a subconscious level because it would have interfered, as it was now doing, with his selfish desires. So now, he found himself in a position that tore him in two conflicting directions. If he did not leave her immediately, he would damage her badly, perhaps beyond all repair, as the risk of his darker nature taking over plagued him. But on the other hand, leaving her would be damaging in another sense. It screamed at everything Jacob was to not leave her so tormented, so close to pleasure, but left with the pain of being unfulfilled.

Jacob made a choice, slipping his touch out of her body, cringing at the agony of her confused protest. Better this than the alternative. They had come far too close as it was.

Isabella felt tears springing into her eyes, her face turning away from him as he slid her gently down onto her feet. His gentility only served to make her want to shatter even more. Her hands opened and closed on his shirtfront as she swallowed the rushing urge to sob out loud.

"Why?" she choked out instead. "Why?"

The plaintive question sent a sensation of betrayal slicing through Jacob's midsection. He had come here, knowing he should not. He had been unable to resist the lure, had lied to them both when he'd said he was fully in control, and had almost robbed her of everything precious and innocent she possessed. But her state of na?veté wasn't even the issue. He had once again fallen prey to her unintentional lure, disregarded the laws that he, above all others, was sworn to uphold.

"Bella," he croaked, the damp of wild frustration wetting his dark eyes. Rage swirled through him. It was all he could do to speak. "Forgive me. I beg you. Forgive me."

Then he was launching away from her, hurtling into the air, disintegrating into a dust devil that escaped the room as rapidly as she blinked her eyes. The room shook with his departure, the floor shuddering and the shelves rocking slightly as a rumble roared through. The gaslights hanging from the ceiling swayed.

Isabella dropped to her knees, suddenly too weak to stand, too stunned to cry. With numb fingers, she redressed herself. She was half blind with anguish by the time the room settled. Fully clothed once more, she tried to pretend that every nerve of her body wasn't wishing it, too, could leap up into the night sky in order to chase after the Demon who had left her so bereft.

She had no recourse for her feelings. She felt a horrific sense of deprivation and loss, an emotion she could only describe as grief. She didn't understand, and she had no one she could speak with to help her figure things out Logically, she knew why he had shut down, why he left without explanation. It was self-explanatory. She was human. She was too weak to make love with him. She was considered a lesser being, like a clever pet, and a taboo resource for passion.

She reached up to rub the deeply sore mark he had branded her shoulder with. This mark had not been thoughtless. He had made it with purpose. She had felt every ounce of the intention that had gone into it. Jacob didn't think her below him. She wore the proof embedded in her skin. However primitive an act it had been, it had been a symbol of commitment from him, and it had meant as much to her.

She reached up and angrily fisted tears from her cheeks, sniffling as she turned to look around. It was these laws and words surrounding her that had dictated he leave. This was the history of a race of elitists. Snobs, part of her thought meanly. Their traditions were steeped in implacable beliefs, and the one she was facing, she believed, was a prejudice. Demons had a thing about purity. It wasn't just humans who earned titles below their almighty culture. She had read the law herself, the one that had given birth to Jacob's duties so long ago:

… it is therefore forbidden for any of Demonkind to mate with creatures who are not of their nature, not of their strength or power. Those lesser creatures are ours to protect from ourselves, not to be violated in impure sexual abomination. This is the law. The dog does not lie with the cat; the cat does not lie with the mouse. Whosoever breaks this sacred trust must suffer under the hand of the law …

She wanted to believe there was logic to this. She was a logical person. But there was never logic in encompassing statements, especially those written thousands of years ago, which, as she understood it, this one had been.

She had seen Saul. He was proof of the danger within every Demon, and she could accept that they were a volatile species in spite of their many efforts to be otherwise. Nevertheless, if she were cat to Jacob's dog, then why did they feel this way? Why would two incompatible species find themselves so … so well made for each other's needs?

Noah believed her to be unique, that she had a purpose in the future of Demon society. At first, Isabella had gone along with the idea just so she could stay and find out everything she could about this world of beings living parallel to her own. She would have been content to die a pale old lady in this library. There was more than enough knowledge within it to keep her sated for an entire lifetime.

But now …

Now she was beginning to believe she truly did have a purpose for being there. Maybe she was meant to find a way to kick the supreme starch out of their shorts. Yes. Something in this library could perhaps explain why every time Jacob barked, she purred.

She laughed at herself weakly. She looked around herself and saw the books she had accidentally pulled down lying on the floor. She scooted over to them to gather them up. She handled them gingerly, apologetically, sorry she had so mistreated them for so unrealized a moment. She dusted the front cover of one of them, reading the title.

Destruction.

She shuddered, not liking the ominous title in the least. Once again she was given proof of the extremism of the Demon race. She stood to replace the book, but suddenly she stopped. She blinked slowly, and clearing her mind of the last of her disturbed feelings, she looked at the title again.

Destruction.

Unexpectedly, she felt faint, the world spinning around her as the book dropped from her nerveless fingers.

She had just read the title of a book that was written in a language she had not been able to read only twenty minutes earlier.

Noah's cat-green eyes followed Jacob's pacing across his receiving-room floor, a frown etched into his mouth as his Enforcer's disturbance rubbed his senses raw.

It was clear Jacob was not going to share his thoughts willingly, and Noah was left to speculate. Jacob was as honest, dutiful, and loyal a soul as he had ever encountered. He was, in fact, more devotedly Demon than many of the Elder Demons were. His belief in their ways, laws, and code of honor was so pure that Noah could not help but respect him for it. This was why it troubled Noah to see Jacob so embroiled in what was clearly a turmoil of conscience. He did not broach the Enforcer, though, no matter how powerful the urge to do so. Instead, he sat quietly as the other Demon wore a path in his floor.

Then, simultaneously, the males were jolted out of their ruminations and their heads swung toward the doorway leading into the Great Hall. Three heartbeats later, the doors burst open, allowing a flock of Demons and a dismayed servant entrance.

"Forgive me, Sire, but they would not let me announce them. They just pushed past!" the servant panted, his consternation flushing his normally tanned face.

"That is alright, Ezekiel," Noah said, making a gentle sign of dismissal that absolved the other male of responsibility. Noah narrowed his attention on the nine Demons walking toward him, recognizing the remaining Elders of the Great Council, save the Warrior Captain, Elijah.

"Welcome to my home, Councilors." He nodded to them and then focused on their apparently self-declared leader. "Ruth, would you care to explain what it is that brings you in such an impromptu throng?"

"Noah, it has come to our attention that you are aware of some happenings that you have not shared with the Council," Ruth announced, her tone cool and bordering on reproachful. "Would you care to share them with us now?"

"If I did, I would have called you myself," Noah countered, unapologetic and reminding them all of their failure in protocol with the easy observation. "However, since you have gone to such trouble to gather and approach me, I will discuss recent developments with you."

Noah rose from his seat and moved from the Hall to the Great Council chamber, aware of Jacob falling into line at his back, all his personal disturbances put aside under the press of this potentially combustible development Noah took his seat at the point of a large triangular table, Jacob at the second and all the others filling up the three sides in their usual places. Only the third point—other than Elijah's chair—remained conspicuously empty, as it had for eight years now.

"Very well, Ruth, what is it you wish to know that you do not already?" Noah encouraged, his mildly patronizing tone making the female Demon bristle defensively.

"Is it true that one of us has been Summoned and destroyed?" Ruth had never been one to mince words, for all her persistently troublesome nature.

"Yes. It is. Saul is lost to us."

A murmur of breath and distress slid down the sides of the table. Noah flicked his eyes to Jacob, finding the Enforcer's brown-black gaze cold and unreadable.

"Enforcer," Ruth said, as always refusing to use his common name, "I take it you have hunted and destroyed the creature responsible for this?"

"The necromancer does not exactly wear a bell around his neck, Councilor Ruth. But yes, I hunt him."

"Hunt." She spat the present tense at him like a derisive curse. "Which means we are still vulnerable."

"That would be the logical conclusion," Jacob returned coolly. "Also, I might remind you that the carriage of justice to other supernatural beings falls within the warriors' realm. According to our laws and distinctions, the hunt for the necromancer falls under Elijah's jurisdiction. However, I am in close contact with Elijah on this matter, as I have been the only one to get close to this magic-user. I will continue to assist the Warrior Captain in the hunt for him."

Jacob's calm made Ruth realize how badly she was coming off, and her face flushed with her discomfort. She didn't apologize for herself, however. Jacob knew she never would.

"What are we to do in the meantime, Noah? Sit and wait for the next of us to be snatched from our lives?"

"We have little choice at the moment. As you all know, there is no known protection against Summoning spells. However, you can be assured that Elijah, Jacob, and I are working on the problem."

"And yet the Enforcer still has time for his other duties," spoke up Councilor Simon, his thin lips pressed into a deep frown. He was referring to the fact that, the night before, Jacob had been forced to track Simon's son down and snap him back into line.

"I have time for everything," Jacob agreed, a feral smile sliding over his lips.

"Noah! Jacobi"

The entire Council jerked in surprise as the chamber door burst open and gave entry to Isabella, her arms loaded with scrolls, her eyes bright lavender points of information that was bursting to be freed. She stopped short when she realized she had intruded on a meeting, and swept her eyes uneasily around the room as a dozen Demon eyes focused solely on her.

"A human!" Simon whispered.

"She has sacred scrolls!" cried another, lurching to his feet.

"Noah, what is the meaning of this?" Ruth exploded, forgetting exactly whom she was addressing. Or perhaps not Ruth was always in search of a way to jockey with Noah for the authority of a moment.

"Uh-oh …" Isabella muttered under her breath.

"I did not even sense her presence," someone whispered.

"Neither did I."

Jacob rose to his feet, the sound of his chair scraping back slowly over the marble floor piercing through the room and drawing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him as he came around the table and reached to take the human woman's shoulder under his hand. He pulled her into the protective circle of his arm and then guided her to his chair and sat her down. Putting Isabella in what was recognized as one of the three most powerful positions of the Council table brought about a collective gasp.

"You dare, Enforcer?" Ruth hissed, moving to stand as if she would go around the table and yank the human female from the chair herself.

But the force of Jacob's cold stare made her still mid-action.

"Our most sacred law is to harm no human who does not harm us, Councilor Ruth. Would you transgress right before the eyes of the Demon who would punish you?" he asked, the calm of his voice speaking deep levels of threat. In contrast to this steely warning, Jacob's hand slipped beneath Isabella's heavy hair and circled her neck protectively. Noah did not think the Enforcer was even aware he had made the possessive gesture.

"She has no right here," Ruth argued, the force of the statement well diminished by her shock as she watched the most ruthless man of their kind take the human female under his tender auspices.

"She has information vital to the very questions you have been asking," Jacob countered smoothly, having touched on this knowledge briefly in her mind.

"Jacob, I don't think this is a good time," Bella whispered.

"Nonsense, human. Speak, if you have knowledge," Simon demanded.

Isabella's eyes narrowed on the Councilor. "My name is Isabella," she snapped.

Simon blinked, clearly not comprehending for a very long minute that a human had just slapped him down. When it came to him, color rushed up his neck.

Noah's chair being pushed back caught everyone's attention.

"You will all leave. I will hear Isabella out in private and we will reconvene tomorrow night."

Isabella instinctively reached up and pressed her fingers to the back of the hand circling her neck. She saw the roomful of Demons stirring in discontent, casting Jacob distrusting looks. She didn't like the way it felt. Even as they all rose to obey their monarch, Isabella could feel their displeasure.

That was when the first push slammed into her brain.

It began like cold, invading fingers crawling along the back of her scalp. Shards of ice pierced her skull, embedding themselves into her mind like dozens of needles, each strategically placed in her long- and short-term memory in order to suck the knowledge from the synapses that held it.

Isabella jerked in shock, alerting Jacob to the fact that she was in some kind of distress. As the Demons continued to rise, a second push slapped her back in her chair, causing her work to fall helter-skelter to the floor as she threw her hands up to her head. When this invasion failed, there was immediately a third. Bella became aware of the source in a frightening instant. They were trying to force from her the information that Noah would not share. It was causing her head to blossom in pain, and she keened softly in agony. Her thoughts became Jacob's, and he knew the moment she did what was causing her distress.

"You will stop!" he roared, his voice ricocheting off every surface in the chamber, forcing everyone to fall very still under his outraged threat "You will obey Noah and wait for your information. You will cease trying to scan Isabella this instant or you will answer to me!"

There were three Mind Demons in the Elder Council, including Ruth, who could be responsible for the attack. All three of them looked utterly shocked, along with the rest of the Elders in the room. Jacob couldn't tell if it was from his awareness of their actions or merely the threats themselves. He was Enforcer, and there was nothing more frightening in their world than his sense of injustice. His threat was not an idle one, and everyone knew it. Feared it. Even the intractable Ruth. Isabella visibly relaxed as her pain receded and the Demons exited soundlessly.

Noah closed the door after them and instantly moved to Isabella's side, kneeling beside her chair and taking her chin in his hand so he could turn her head and meet her eyes. It was only then that she realized how angry the silent King had become for her sake. Though there was no outward facial sign, she could see it in the stormy clouds of gray concealing the green of his eyes.

"Bella, are you well?" he asked gently.

Isabella appreciated his concern, especially after facing so much hostility from the strangers who had just left, but there was something disturbing her brain again. This was not painful, but it was familiar. Her violet gaze shifted away from Noah's, turning to focus on the male standing on the other side of her chair just as his long fingers began to curl into a fist Her heart began to pound in double-time as she watched Jacob close his eyes, his jaw clenching so tightly she could hear the creak of his teeth. She understood he was trying to force himself to behave with rational care, to not take such violent offense to Noah's hands being on her, to the King's zealous concern for her.

"I am fine," she said softly, forcing as amiable a smile as she could manage over her lips. In truth, she was confused and exhausted. Jacob's behaviors seemed to vacillate so strongly, so intensely in one direction and then another. She decided to simply focus on his needs of the moment.

Isabella gently extracted her chin from Noah's grasp under the guise of gathering her discarded work from the floor. The King reached to help her, taking on some of her burden before rising to his feet He was a good man, Isabella thought, kind and intelligent, thinking of others before himself. Marks of a man meant to be a leader. When Noah was not crossing Bella's personal space, she could feel how very much Jacob respected him, how devoted he would always be to Noah's every cause. All he need do was ask, and Jacob would serve him without question and without regard for his own life or safety.

It upset her greatly that she had become a point of discord within that melodic relationship. She thought of the revelations she held cradled against her chest, of how they could potentially serve up more discord, more upset and controversy. Would she be doing this society any good by revealing her new knowledge?

"I …" She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. Really, it's nothing that can't wait. Actually"—she stood up and extracted the scrolls from Noah's hold—"all I wanted was, uh … help with some interpretation. But you are busy …" She rounded the peculiar triangular table as casually as she could while she spoke, even turning to back out of the room while giving them a bright smile that she hoped did not look as fake as it felt "You know, there are lots of books down there, and I bet there's a translation." She reached up to smack her palm into her forehead, chiding herself for not thinking properly.

Isabella reached for the door and closed it even faster than she had originally opened it.

Noah looked over at Jacob, one dark brow lifting toward his thick hairline.

"Does…?" He raised a hand to point to the door, looking utterly perplexed. "Does she have any idea what a lousy liar she is?"

"Apparently not," Jacob said with a long, low sigh. "I think that was my fault," he speculated wryly.

"Your fault?"

"Yeah … it is a long story. We better get her."

"Relax," Noah chuckled. "She's leaning against the other side of the door, trying to catch her breath."

"I know. I just thought it would be funny if we opened it behind her."

"I never knew you actually enjoyed being cruel," the King remarked, humor sparkling in his eyes as they both stepped up to the exit.

Noah opened the door, and Jacob reached out to catch her, scrolls and all.