“You’re afraid I’ll hunt Kynan.” Guilt put shadows in her eyes, and he cursed. “I said I wouldn’t.” An unusually powerful blast of heat in his chest made him grit his teeth. “You don’t trust me?”
“I want to, Lore. But this is important.”
“You can’t go. I’m going to the assassin den.”
“No need.” Sin’s singsongy voice came through the screen door. “I’m here for a friendly visit.”
Shit. “Now’s not a good time, Sin.”
She ignored him to plop down in the recliner. She was dressed like a street thug, in baggy pants with chains, a black hoodie, and sneakers. Even her hair was tucked up under a backward Yankees ballcap. “So. How’d it go at the Guild?”
“It didn’t,” Idess said. “Your brother felt the need to rescue me.”
Sin cocked an eyebrow. “Rescue her?”
Lore slammed another shot. “Let’s drop it, ’kay?”
“What did you do?” He should have known better than to expect Sin to leave anything alone.
“He knocked me out and threw me over his shoulder like some sort of caveman,” Idess said, and yeah, that was pretty true. “He claims that if he hadn’t, I’d have been branded like you two.”
Sin’s eyes widened, because she knew exactly what saving Idess had cost him. “Fuck,” she muttered, and gestured to his bottle. “Gimme.”
He passed it to her, and she swigged right from it. Dainty, his sister was not.
“I’m going to shower and go,” he muttered, and started toward the bathroom.
“But Sin is here,” Idess pointed out. “You have no reason to go to the den.”
Black eyes sparking, Sin planted the jug between her thighs. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?”
“Sin…”
She ignored his warning tone, but then, he didn’t expect anything else. “He seriously pissed off Deth by taking you away like that. He’s going to be tortured.”
* * *
Idess felt sick to her stomach as Lore ushered Sin out the door with instructions to bring Wraith back to Lore’s place. When he turned around, she stood, though not without effort. His couch must be a hundred years old, and if it had springs, they were dead. He truly didn’t care about his comfort. Or maybe he couldn’t afford nice things.
Or personal things, she noted with a frown. The walls were achingly bare. He had no knicknacks. Nothing that revealed anything about him—except what the lack of personal effects revealed about him; the house was set up so an intruder would learn nothing crucial about him or his sister. He could leave forever in a matter of minutes.
“Lore? Tell me what Sin said about you being tortured wasn’t true.”
He didn’t look at her as he moved toward the bathroom. “It wasn’t true.”
“You’re lying.”
“You told me to.”
“Damn you!” she snapped. “Stop!”
He halted, but he still didn’t look at her. “It’s all right, Idess. It’s not like Deth hasn’t done it before.”
The way he said it, as if it was no big deal because he was used to it, broke her heart. How many beatings did it take before one grew numb to it? Way too many, she suspected.
“I won’t let him do this.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “I’ll go to my father. I’ll—”
“Stop.” Lore rounded on her, but he didn’t look angry. If she had to pick a look, she’d say he seemed startled by her vow to help him. “I have to do this. I knew what I was getting into, and I’ll deal with it.”
“But why? Why did you do it? After what I’ve done to you, you should enjoy seeing me enslaved.”
“You really believe that?” He took a step toward her. “I’m risking Sin’s life by putting off what I have to do to Kynan. I’m doing that for you. Not for Kynan or my brothers. I took a knife for you. I’ve kissed you over and over when I never kiss anyone. So why the hell would I want to see you suffer?”
Her mouth dropped open in shock, and her stomach fluttered. Some idiotic feminine instinct she didn’t even know she had went tail-wagging stupid at his admission. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t know.” He swiped the jug of liquor off the coffee table, where Sin had left it. “Fuck. I have no idea. Forget I said anything.”
Fat chance of that. She moved closer to him, not wanting to miss even the slightest nuances in his expression when she hit him with her sudden suspicion. “You don’t kiss anyone because you’re afraid of killing them, aren’t you? Same with sex, right?”
He turned away again, and she grabbed his arm—the right one, protected by his thick leather coat. “Lore? Tell me.”
“Yeah, okay? Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch your partner drop dead because you got off? No,” he said nastily, “I’m guessing you don’t.”
“But if you wear a sleeve and glove—”
“When I cl**ax, my power punches right through it.”
She thought about how he’d stroked himself to completion over her and realized that he’d pinned her legs between his and held himself away from her—to keep her from thrashing and accidentally touching his arm when he came.
“Have you ever been with a woman safely?”
He swallowed, and now probably wasn’t the time to notice how sexy his throat was as the muscles worked beneath his tan skin, but whoa. “Just once. A long time ago.”
“Did you love her?”
He snorted. “I didn’t know her name. She blew me in an alley while I braced my arms above my head against a building.”
“Oh.” She could have gone all day without knowing that.
“You disgusted now? Because I am. Not because I paid some whore for sex, but because I was so f**king lonely that I risked killing her. I told you, I’m a selfish piece of shit.”
It broke her heart to hear him say that, because she’d seen a lot of evidence to the contrary. “A selfish person wouldn’t have signed up to be a slave to save his sister. A selfish person wouldn’t have locked himself away from society in order to protect them. You’re not selfish. You’ve slipped, like everyone else.”
He threw the jug across the room, shattering it against the wall. “My slips kill people, Idess!”
She looked down at his scuffed hardwood floor, at the wetness spreading across it like spilled blood. “Have you ever loved anyone? Besides your sister, I mean.” Say no.
“Why the hell are we talking about this?”
“I’m curious.”
“Because this is such great pretorture talk.”
The reminder dropped a bowling ball right into the pit of her stomach. “Please,” she begged. “I have to do something to stop it. I’ll go to my father and see if Deth can be given a heart attack or something.”
“Seriously?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “That’s what your father does?”
“Sort of. I don’t know how much pull I have with him. I haven’t seen him in centuries.”
She’d lived in Azagoth’s realm for a hundred years, right after she was pulled from her human life. She’d been Rami’s apprentice, learning the ways of the Memitim, how to flash and use her innate skills, learning the bazillions of rules. But once she was given Primori, she left the realm and hadn’t been back.
Lore reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. The gentle gesture was a lover’s touch, and it triggered an ache deep inside. “I told you,” he said quietly. “I knew what I was getting into.”
Flecks of gold pierced the black of his irises, moving fluidly, like sunlight on a stream. “Why do your eyes do that?” She went on her toes to get closer, amazed by the beauty. “They were red when you were enraged, but they’re gold now.”
“They do that when I’m mildly annoyed.” His gaze intensified, somehow growing both darker and more golden, and his earthy male scent filled her nostrils. “Or aroused.”
“Which are you now?” she croaked. No sooner had the question passed her lips than her body answered with a warm, wet rush between her legs.
“Guess.” His voice was deep and gravelly, and he spun around and headed for the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m about to be tortured,” he said, without looking back, “which will probably send me into a rage. If I don’t let off some steam before I go… it could be bad.”
“I can help,” she blurted. Part of her longed to experience the intimacy again, and part of her just wanted to do something for him. To be useful. To make up for chaining him and nearly getting him killed.
He ground to a halt at the doorway. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. In fact, it’s a terrible idea.”
“But you want it, don’t you? You want me to be the one to ease you.”
His big body shuddered. “God, yes.” And there was that penetrating rumble that made her heart quiver in her chest. “It’s better with you.”
“Better how?” It was stupid to keep pressing, because the more she knew, the closer she got to him. Yet, some dark, wild side of her wanted that. Wanted to walk the line between love and hate and see which way she tipped.
“Are you asking to feed your ego, or are you genuinely curious about how you affect me?”
“Both, I think,” she said honestly.
The long, deep breath he took told her she’d given him the right answer. “My release is more powerful. It’s not that it feels better… I mean, it does… but I get more relief, more time before I need it again. Fuck, Idess… I can’t.”
“You didn’t have a problem letting me help you before,” she pointed out, though she did so breathlessly.
“I was chained with Bracken Cuffs the first time. I didn’t need to worry about touching you. The second time, you were restrained, so I was in control.” He rolled his broad shoulders, and the leather of his jacket strained at the seams. “I can’t risk it.”
“Not much can kill me.” She walked around him so she could look him in the eyes. “I’m not worried.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
Maintaining eye contact, she slid her palm down his arm to his gloved hand. His fingers curled around hers.
“Idess, this is stupid.” But he stepped into her, so close she could feel the heat coming off him.
Haltingly, she placed her other hand on his waist, felt the very slight tensing in his body. “I know.”
Seventeen
Idess’s words ricocheted through Lore, sucker punching him right in the soul.
You’re not selfish. You’ve slipped. Slipped. A slip could cost Idess her life.
Panic became shrink-wrap around his chest, and he released her. “No,” he croaked. “No. I can’t do this. Accidents happen.”
And no way was Idess going to be an accident. Just a few days ago, he might not have cared. But now he cared way too much.
“Lore—”
“No!” Before she could argue, he shut himself in his room. To his surprise, she didn’t barge in or even knock. She respected his privacy, and for some reason, her consideration sucker-punched him again.
Chest screaming with bond-pain and groin tight with the need she’d stirred, he paced, practically ran laps around his bedroom. He was hard and achy, but when he palmed his cock, God help him, it felt numb. His last couple of shower sessions had taken forever, but now? No matter how fast or hard he stroked, how hot the fantasy about Idess, he couldn’t get there.
Just like a purebred Seminus. Fuck.
He had no idea what was going to happen once the torture began.
As if his body was trying to prepare him, a lightning bolt of pain struck him, spreading from the bond and into every extremity. Cursing, doubled over in agony, he slipped out his window and headed to the Harrowgate.
Lore hated leaving Idess, but he had a demon to face. At least he could take comfort in the fact that Idess couldn’t flash into Sheoul. No way did he want her getting messed up in this.
The moment Lore entered the den, his bond-pain eased to a dull ache. Detharu was waiting in his chamber, looking really f**king pissed off. The foul stench of someone’s terror soured the air, so thick Lore could taste it on the back of his tongue.
“Lore,” Deth snarled. “My patience with you is at an end.”
“I can see you aren’t in the best of moods,” Lore said, reversing course. “I’ll come back later.”
Deth’s guards blocked the doorway, and Lore turned back, carefully schooling his expression to hide the fact that he knew he was in for a world of hurt.
“Where is the female?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“And you’re ugly. What’s your point?”
Deth shot out of his seat. “You will bring her to me.”
“Go f**k yourself.”
“I am going to make you suffer,” Deth snarled.
“Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“Oh, yes.” Anticipation glinted in the male’s eyes as Deth shambled toward him. “Have you killed your mark yet?”
“I still have time.” Lore studied his nails. “I’ll get to it.”
“Getting to it will be difficult, if you’re locked in my pit for a month.”