Sweet Ruin

THIRTY-SIX

“Move . . . move . . . move. Outta my way,” Josephine ordered pedestrians as she and Rune strode through the Quarter. The sign for Lafitte’s was just ahead.

Mortals scattered. Sensing on some level she was a predator?

“Move . . . move . . . move your ass.” No polite excuse me from the vampire. As males made way for her, they stared, agog at her otherworldly looks and figure.

“I could lead,” Rune offered, increasingly irritated by their reactions.

“Got this. Clearly.”

He wouldn’t have thought he’d be this attracted to a brash female—especially not one who’d delighted in telling a covey he’d twice come with his pants on. Alone with her again, he’d grated, “Have your fun?” She’d shrugged. Yes, Rune. . . .

When the crowd thinned, she asked him, “Did you sleep with all those—what did you call them?—Nepheles?”

“Nephelae. I’m almost certain I slept with them all. I like to spread the love around. If I don’t, they feel slighted.” Important to avoid.

Hell hath no fury like a sexually neglected nymph.

Apparently he’d burned through every Dryad at Dalli’s covey except one, the comely Meliai, and she was fuming about the oversight. Before he’d left Dalli’s earlier, the nymph had stopped by, hoping to join in. When he’d blown her off, she’d told him she possessed a key that could get him around the wraiths—and she’d trade it only for sex.

His wrist rune still showed no alert from the nymphs at Val Hall. Until Nïx was in residence, the wraiths were a secondary concern. . . .

Josephine had stopped in her tracks, forcing him to turn around. “What?”

“Slighted? Spread the love? I go through cycles with you. Sometimes I think you’re the greatest thing since bagged blood. Other times, like right now, I can’t figure what I ever saw in you.” She passed him, heading toward one of the doors of the crowded bar.

He stared after her. She couldn’t lie; she’d truly meant that.

Just as information flowed to him, females flowed to him. All he had to do was be himself around them, and situations worked themselves out. Now was he to monitor everything he said?

No, no, once he started bedding the vampire, her attitude would improve. He caught up with her.

As they entered, he scanned the premises for enemies. The fey kingdom of Sylvan was a pocket realm of Gaia. Sooner or later Rune would run into either Sylvan bounty hunters or even King Saetthan himself.

He pictured his half brother’s face, one so like Rune’s own. Though Saetthan had inherited Magh’s blond hair and blue eyes, he’d gotten his tall build and features from their sire.

Saetthan was Rune’s most coveted target—of the fourteen left from Magh’s line—and considered himself a protector for the others. . . .

Rune spied no fey within, but in the shadowy back of the bar, a garrulous gang of five demons sat at a table. Each had a different shape to his horns, indicating his species.

“I believe that’s our contact.” Rune nodded toward the biggest one. The male had a colossal chest and the large forward-pointing horns of a storm demon. When standing, he’d be over seven feet tall.

Josephine breathed, “I’m going to meet a real-live demon.” Her steps quickened.

Rune followed. “You’ve been with a real-live demon. I’m half demonic, remember?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have wicked cool horns like that dude.”

I should. Rune had wished for them his entire life, just as he’d wished for red demon blood.

His gaze roamed over the vampire. What if his blood were red? As much as she loved baneblood, how could she crave another kind more? What if baneblood specifically attracted her? Later, he would demand to know which kind she preferred.

At the table, Rune addressed the storm demon, “You’re Deshazior?”

“Aye, that’d be me,” he said with an undeniable piratic accent. His huge paw of a hand curled around a tankard of brew.

“We heard you can assist us with travel.”

Deshazior ignored him, turning in his chair to face Josephine. “Are ye lookin’ for a ride, me beauty?” A thorough perusal of her body accompanied his words.

Rune did not appreciate this. Deshazior had to assume she was with Rune. At best, the demon’s open interest was disrespectful. At worst, it could be taken as a sign of hostility against Rune.

“Yes, we are,” she said.

The demon stood, far too close to her, then held out a paw. “I’m Deshazior. You can call me Desh.”

She shook his hand, his swallowing hers. “Josephine,” she said, craning her head up, seeming enthralled by the male. “You can call me Jo.”

Jo?

“Ah, me lovely Jo, let’s mosey outside and talk.” He finally released her hand. “I need to know where and when I can take ye.”

Really, demon, double entendre? As if this pirate had game!

Neither paid attention to Rune as they turned toward the exit. Nearing the doorway, Josephine said, “Oh, duck! You don’t want to hit your horns.”

Deshazior slanted her a heated look. “And she’s considerate to boot?”

Sheltered or not, she must know a mere reference to a demon’s horns could be construed as an invitation!

On the street, Deshazior gestured toward Rune. “I figure him for a fey. But what might ye be?”

“I’m a vampire.” She would tell the demon that, yet she refused to reveal basic information to Rune.

“Never had much use for vampires,” Deshazior said, “till I met a l’il bit named Jo, me first female one.” He waved from her toes to her head, asking, “Are ye all this eye-catchin’?”

She beamed, her smile dazzling. “Are demons all so charming?”

Deshazior leaned in even closer. “I’ve been hard on yer species in the past; teach me the error of me ways.”

She leaned in as well, eyeing him. “Do it again, bilge rat, and I’ll bite you smartly, then keelhaul your hide.”

Deshazior put his paw over his heart and breathed, “Blow. Me. Down.”

She chuckled. Chuckled! “I speak Pirates of the Caribbean.”

Rune was all but forgotten.

“Where would such a winsome vampire need to be goin’? ’Cause I’ll trace ye across the worlds.”

Rune interjected: “We need to go to China. To Mount Hua.”

Deshazior told Josephine, “Ye’re in luck. Been all over that country. I can put ye straight at the base.”

“All over?” she asked. “No one ever asks you about your horns?” Mentioning them again!

“See me T-shirt?” It was emblazoned with the words Big Easy Casting.

She tilted her head. “I see it.”

“Folks think I’m wearin’ prosthetics for a movie.”

“Oh, cool. They’re really big,” she said, which turned the demon on, those horns growing. Her eyes went wide. “That’s wild! Can I touch them?”

Rune’s jaw slackened.

Deshazior couldn’t dip his head fast enough. “Woman, make me dreams come true!”

“That’s enough,” Rune cut in. “We’re running out of time.” They were in no way running out of time.

“Rain check?” Josephine asked.

Voice gone low, Deshazior said, “Oh, decidedly, luv.”

Jo was digging Desh!

Not like she did Rune, but she felt a curiously strong pull toward the affable demon.

Desh was handsome in a supernatural linebacker-y way, and his accent was kind of sexy. His horns were even more badass up close.

When he grinned down at her, she gazed up at him with a puzzled smile. For someone who pretty much hated everybody, she had a good feeling about this guy. She could almost imagine she was making a friend.

Her first!

So many things were beginning to change in her life. The future spread out so brightly. . . .

Yet while she’d taken an instant liking to Desh, Rune and the demon seemed to hate each other on sight.

“Name your bloody price,” Rune demanded.

Was the dark fey jealous? Or was this another instance of Rune not playing well with anyone who had a dick? She suspected the latter.

“The lady’s ride is gratis.” Desh didn’t back down an inch. “Ye’ll be payin’ me a gold doubloon—or she goes alone.”

Jo muffled a laugh.

With narrowed eyes, Rune took a coin from his pocket, flipping it to the demon.

Desh caught the piece, seeming to weigh it. “It’s good gold.” He sank a fang into the edge. “It’s old gold. Where ye from, stranger?”

Rune’s lips drew back. “A place where demons mind their own business.”

Jo glared at him.

“Ye look like a fey, but ye’re barin’ the fangs of a demon. Should’ve known by yer eyes.” Desh frowned at her. “Ye understand he’s a scurvy baneblood, luv? Walkin’ poison and poxy bad luck to boot. If ye’re thirsty, the blood of a storm demon”—he pounded his broad chest—“is stout and hearty. I’m a thousand years old, so I’d be aged like fine wine.”

Rune bit out, “What the fuck is this, demon? We’re here to transact.”

Desh turned to him. “I see no mark upon her neck.” Mark? “If ye reckon she’s yer mate, I’ll respect that. Otherwise, she’s fair game. The fairest.”

Rune didn’t believe dark fey got mates, much less that Jo was his. So how would he answer that challenge?

“She’s not my mate.” Rune squared his shoulders. “But she’s in my bed.” Then he added, “Currently.”

Her flare of excitement fizzled. Currently. One of his qualifiers—to indicate she wouldn’t always be in his bed.

Dickwad! Jo told Desh, “We’re not exclusive at all. Earlier today, we were discussing how unexclusive we are. He insists on it. We haven’t even slept together.”

Rune grated, “Yet.”

Jo ignored him. “Ever.”

“Good to know. I’ll be givin’ ye me number.”

“Awesome! Or stop by my digs. I live not far from here at the Big Easy Sleeps.” She pointed over her shoulder.

“No shite? The Big Sleazy.” He laughed.

“Exactly!”

Rune stepped closer to her, telling Desh, “We need to leave for our destination. You’re either taking us, or you’re wasting our time.”

“I accepted the gold, baneblood; I accepted the gig.”

Rune nodded at Jo and said, “Head somewhere sheltered.”

“Already thought of that. I know of a place.” The demon held out his big hand to her. “C’mere, me beauty.” Turning to Rune, he snapped, “Yer arm.” He clutched Rune’s forearm, then traced them. His teleporting was hard and fast like Rune’s.

When Jo blinked open her eyes, they stood in the shade of a rock overhang. Past the shadows was an expanse of blue sky. Puffy white clouds elbowed the sun. The day was crisp, a one-eighty from the humid night in the Quarter. The scent of pine tickled her nose.

I’m in freaking China! “This is amazing!” She could see the bases of two mountains, but not the peaks. The stone was light in color, the surface dusted with tufts of green. She wanted to see more! She traced to a nearby field, peering up at the white-capped tops.

She reeled on her feet, mind boggled. So beautiful. So big. Her first real mountains.

Desh traced to her side. “Gods almighty.” His stunned gaze flickered over her face. “Ye’re a day-walkin’ vampire.”

“That a big deal?” She glanced past Desh. Rune was just as astounded.

“Huge,” Desh said in a choked-up voice. “Ye should’ve burned to ash.”

So sun did burn vampires. “The light’s never bothered me.” If she’d ever made friends, she would’ve liked to go to the beach with them. Lie out. Sip blood from a glass with a little umbrella. “Must be because I’m wicked strong and all.”

“I’ve seen a lot of things in me days, but never something like this. Never.” Desh stared at her—the same way she’d stared at the snow-capped mountains. “Ye truly drink blood?”

“One hundred percent of my diet.”

Suddenly Desh’s body hit the ground, plowing through solid rock. Rune had lunged for the demon, now had his knife against Desh’s throat.

“What is wrong with you?” she screamed. “Don’t you dare hurt him! I vow to the Lore I’ll make you regret it!”

“Another vow?” Rune snapped. “He knows too much! If I don’t do this, you’ll be hunted. It’ll never end.”

She’d be damned before Rune decapitated the nice demon in front of her!

“I’ll not say aught about the girl!” Desh’s eyes met hers. He looked like he worried more about her than himself. “Get away from this poxy bastard, l’il bit. One way or another.”

She teed up her telekinesis, but Rune had that blade pressed to Desh’s vulnerable throat. She didn’t have enough control to focus a precise beam, could end up blowing them both to bits.

But one talent of hers was honed to perfection.

“Make me regret it, then, Josephine.” Rune’s tone was like steel. “But I can’t risk it.” He tightened his grip on the blade handle.

Which meant it was time to reveal all her secrets.