Shades of Wicked Page 48
“Romantic,” I said in an acerbic tone, but a fluttering had started inside that I was having a difficult time controlling.
A quick grin. “Indeed. Felt nothing when you rudely interrupted my orgy, either, except rage when I recognized you as the Guardian who’d been at Katie’s supposed execution. Then we fought . . . and I felt the same thing I’d felt when I watched you tear through those ghouls years before.”
“Something long and hard?” I supplied, adding, “I remember it hitting my foot when I was trying to hold you down.”
“Not that, though that, too,” he said with another unrepentant grin. Then it faded as he said, “I felt that you were mine. Rattled me so much, it kept me far away from you on that battlefield years ago. Feeling that toward anyone was a shock, but feeling it toward a Law Guardian?” He shook his head. “I wanted no part of it, so I made sure not to cross your path again. Had every intention of getting away from you when you ambushed me at the bordello, too, though I was curious to see what you intended with your ‘surprise prostitute’ act. Yes, I recognized you straightaway, not that I let on, until you arrogantly announced that we were leaving. Then you muted the beacon on Dagon’s brands and I knew I had to partner with you or give up on saving my soul. But I had my disgust over Katie to hold me in check. When you eliminated that, I had nothing to stop me from realizing why I’d felt one way toward you sometimes and so very differently at others.”
He ran his hands over me, his touch affecting me almost as much as the words I couldn’t believe I was hearing.
“You were always hiding before, either under your glamour or your rigid, law-worshipping act. When you dropped it fighting or binge drinking or rescuing flying demon dogs or telling me you’d never have sex with me while lust swam in your eyes”—his voice deepened and he pulled me hard against him—“I saw the real you, and every time I did, I knew you were mine.”
I kept opening my mouth but I couldn’t seem to speak. That’s why I continued to stare at him, waiting for him to say something that made sense. This didn’t. Neither did the joy bursting through me, lighting me up on the inside as if I’d swallowed the sun. I wanted to believe him, but did I dare? Could I risk what I’d feel if I did?
“If you’re lying to me, I will kill you,” I found myself saying. Then I bit my lip enough to make it bleed. Gods, what was wrong with me? I was the worst at this. The absolute worst.
Ian grinned before leaning down to lick the blood off my lip. “I know, it’s a lot to take in. Never thought you’d be this happy, did you? Or this lucky. Blimey, go ahead and envy yourself. Countless other people will, I assure you.”
A laugh escaped me even as my eyes became so shiny, his image started to blur. “You might be the most conceited man I’ve ever met, and I’ve met millions of them.”
His low, seductive laugh coincided with his hands settling on my hips. “Then I deserve a spanking, don’t I? Here, I’ll start things off.”
With that, he smacked my ass several times in quick succession. I looked down as if feeling it wasn’t enough and I needed visual confirmation of the pink handprints to believe he’d actually done it. Seeing it, he laughed again.
“Never been spanked before? You have so much catching up to do. We’ll start now.”
“Wait!” I said when his mouth swooped down. He paused, mouth barely brushing my lips. “You’ve said these . . . these amazing things, but I haven’t told you how I felt.”
“Veritas.” The way he said my name made me shiver. So did the look in his eyes when he leaned back so I could see every nuance of his expression. “You told me everything I needed to know with how you shouted after me not to leave before.”
Once again, I felt supremely exposed, as if he’d pulled back all my defenses and stared directly into my soul. But this time, I didn’t turn away, drop my gaze or attempt to cover up.
“Good,” I said steadily. “Because I meant it.”
Then I whacked his ass hard enough to make my hand sting. His laughter chased after me as I flew up the stairs and tossed a “Come and get me!” over my shoulder at him.
“Right behind you,” he chuckled, and flew after me.
Chapter 37
“That’s the last one,” Ian said after I heard the rustling sound of fabric dropping behind me. “You can turn around now.”
I did, seeing a heavy black drape over the tall mirror behind me. Similar drapes covered more mirrors on the other three walls of the small room. Having mirrors on every wall would have looked suspicious, except for the kind of room we were in.
Fifty years ago, this mirrored fun house might have been bustling with laughter and activity. Today, it was one of many abandoned shells. Brush and other overgrowth advanced on the former amusement park like a surrounding army on a doomed city. Graffiti covered the structures that still stood within, and the half-rotted skeleton of the wooden roller coaster reminded me of a sad, ghostly sentry looming over the entire park’s remains.
Ian had picked this place for our ambush. I, too, would have chosen somewhere quiet, abandoned, and at least a few miles away from regular populaces. But it wouldn’t have occurred to me to choose an actual mirrored fun house to trap Dagon with a bunch of spelled mirrors. My sense of humor wasn’t that twisted.
Ian’s was, and I had to admit, the irony was growing on me. After scouting out the area to make sure this tiny slice of western Pennsylvania was as Ian remembered, we’d started our work. First was rebuilding the fun house enough to make it suitable for our needs. It didn’t take much since we weren’t attempting to return it to its former dubious glory. We only needed it to be functional for our trap. Dagon shouldn’t be wary of finding a few mirrors left in it, and catching him by surprise was the most critical part of our plan.
Next was the park itself. I wanted a few surprises waiting for Dagon and whatever backup he brought, if things didn’t work as hoped for in the fun house. Finally, I had to get Silver ready. I did the magical equivalent of a locater beacon on the Simargyl, plus I embedded a tiny GPS chip beneath his skin. I had no intention of letting Dagon recover him, but I wouldn’t leave Silver’s fate to chance if the worst happened.
I also explained to Silver that I wasn’t giving him back to Dagon; I was making sure Dagon couldn’t hurt him anymore by luring him here. I don’t know how much the Simargl understood. But I had to try anyway.
It took three days to get everything ready. As the sun set on the third day, we were finally done. I put my hands on Silver and willed the former warding spell I’d placed on him to weaken, allowing Dagon to once again locate Silver by tracing his blood. Then, I went to find Ian.
He was right outside the fun house, watching as the sun cast dying mauve and purple beams through the ruined theme park. He wore all black, as I did, and both of us had two demon-bone knives apiece in sheaths attached to our belts. The knives also had steel on the backside of the blades. Now there was no danger of them breaking when smashing through other bones.
They weren’t our only weapons. We also had silver knives in case of vampires and a short sword for ghouls, plus many spells in place around the park. Despite all this, pre-battle jitters had set in. So much of my life had led up to this. Was Ian experiencing the same nerve-frying mix of worry, resolve, anger, hope, and fear?