Demon Song Page 6


That made me laugh as I tucked it into a pant pocket. I wanted that one close to me. In fact, it might wind up inside my bra, which is seldom searched, even by the bad guys. And if I was being strip-searched, I wanted it where someone might break it by accident.


I squared my shoulders and looked once more into those flame-licked hazel eyes. “Thanks, Creede. Really. For everything.” I meant it and it came through in my voice.


He growled and frowned, because I’d just broken the rules. Tough-guy bodyguards don’t thank each other. It’s considered gauche and … soft. His sudden discomfort made me smile and caused me to impulsively reach out and hug him. I didn’t plan it; I swear.


The things the touch of his body did to mine were beyond description. Even the vest, stuffed with Kevlar and “toys,” couldn’t stop his magic from bringing my skin alive. Every nerve stood at attention, and goose bumps crawled across every inch of me. The scariest thing was that I absolutely knew he wasn’t just reacting to my siren abilities. He had a charm to prevent himself from being magically influenced by me. A grunt from him told me the reaction wasn’t one-sided. I started to pull away, but he would have none of it. His arms snaked around my body and held me tight against him, while his mouth moved to my ear and stopped just before making contact. I could feel his warm breath on my earlobe.


Now panic tore through me, because all my body wanted was for him to tear off my clothes and throw me to the floor. Bruno had made me feel like that sometimes, but this was different. It was superficial, lust without emotional depth. But that didn’t make it any less real or wanted. I hadn’t had sex in a long time and my body knew what it needed. “I have to go, Creede.”


He didn’t respond except to move his hands up my back, which made my stomach tighten and my fingers dig into his muscular shoulders. “I know.” The words pushed into my ear softly, a mixed message. What did he know? That I had to get to the job or that I wanted to feel his fingers on my skin, his lips close over mine? Then I remembered he was a skilled telepath. Crap. While I hoped he was using discretion, he could easily know what I was thinking before I’d even processed the thoughts.


His lips began to move against my neck and his hands slid down to grip my hips possessively. My heart was thudding in my throat. Interesting that I was less afraid to hunt the demon than to have this man touch me.


“Yes, it is. Very interesting.” My eyes widened at his words and at the feeling of his lips against my cheek. Delicate but powerful, the sensation strong enough to weaken my knees. His lips lingered there for what felt like an eternity while my brain swam, unable to think.


“You have to let me go, Creede.” My voice was a whisper and I could hear the fear in it. Who exactly was I afraid of?


He returned the whisper, and while the words made me think he was amused, his tone was low and serious: “I’m not the one who has somewhere to be. This is yours, Celia. You can pull away if you want to. I won’t stop you.”


I couldn’t see my watch because my fingers were gliding through his so-soft hair, pulling his lips closer so they were once more moving against my neck. Bad. I knew I was being bad. Kevin needed me. He could be dying while I was letting a handsome mage tease me breathless. Creede’s hands were cupping my butt now. It felt so good. Then the hands paused and the whisper grew chiding. “Come on, Celia. Concentrate. I know you can get past this like you can get past your fears. There’s a time and place.”


The tone startled me, brought me out of my fog. My pulse slowed to near normal and I could think again. Now I knew what this was all about. Creede was a business first, pleasure second sort of guy. Just like me.


“And this isn’t the time. Right? I’m too busy avoiding the job to do the job well.” He’d been teasing me on purpose. Getting my mind shifted away from old worries and fears, onto a path toward new things. Including the task at hand. I took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Thanks, Creede.” Another thanks earned me another growl in my ear. I kissed him lightly on the cheek and pulled back. “I think I’ve got it out of my system.” Not the sex part, but the worry and fear. I felt calmer and he let a smile reach his eyes.


“Of course, you realize this isn’t over. As you can see, I was enjoying myself.”


I refused to look below his belt line. I had felt exactly how much he was enjoying himself. “Another time, in the far distant future.”


“Maybe. Or sooner than you think.” Now the old Creede was back, the ladies’ man who was a consummate flirt. Damn, he was good. He turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Make sure you give that a good tryout. I’ll expect a written report when you get back from your job.”


I rolled my eyes and crossed suddenly solid arms over my vest. “Like I have time in my day to write reports? Pfft. I’ll call you.” I was feeling back to my old self and I was grateful. I hadn’t realized how much my nerves and memories had been getting to me.


He was in the doorway now and his eyes were sparkling merrily. “And I’ll take your call, provided you agree to have dinner with me to give me the details.” Was he asking me on a date? Maybe my face showed my shock, because his smile broadened into a grin. “I’ll consider that a yes.” He left and I could hear the creak of old boards under his shoes as he walked toward the staircase. “Like I said,” he called out when he was halfway down the stairs, “sooner than you think, Graves.”


His low chuckle made things inside me tighten again, but it made me smile, too. I’d been hurt a lot lately and Creede was a breath of fresh air—not too serious and not demanding. And there was respect there, both ways. Maybe that was exactly what I needed right now.


4


The fly worked just as well as it had in my office.


Unfortunately.


The camera revealed sights that sickened me. Sedated humans crammed into cages lining the dungeonlike basement of the “treatment center.” Cages. They seemed to be about the size for a Great Dane, made from steel bars as thick around as my wrist. There was no furniture, no toilet facilities. Just row upon row of cages filled with naked, comatose people curled into fetal positions. Even a Super Max prison had more amenities than this. “This is disgusting. We have to get them out of there.”


Edgar lowered the night-vision goggles he was using. “You can’t be serious.” His whisper sounded equally amazed and horrified.


“Keep your mind on the mission, Graves.” Jones’s voice was an annoyed hiss in my ear. “I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d thought this sort of thing would bother you.”


“Well, it does,” I snapped back quietly. “I wouldn’t put a dog in a cage where it couldn’t even sit up straight. What kind of life is that?”


He responded by pulling the fly’s case out of my hand. “Give me that joystick.” He started to move the fly and pushed my hand away when I tried to get it back.


“Damn it, Jones.”


Jones stared at me, his eyes blazing with internal fire. “Look at the screen, Graves.”


He was hovering the fly inside one of the cages. I didn’t want to look. It made my stomach hurt to think of that person’s life, or lack thereof. Jones made a disgusted sound, then repeated, tensely, “Look at the screen. Really look. No sores, no fleas, no dirt on this guy’s skin. He’s had a shower or bath sometime today. His underwear and shirt are snow-white. They look better than the ones in my dresser.”


Okay. Now I was forcing myself to look and Jones was right. There was no urine or feces, and if the guy had been caged for very long, there would be. “Oh. But…”


“Now look at the electrodes on his forehead,” Jones continued. “They’re inducing dreams. See the smile? Part of the treatment here is to provide normalcy, to keep the person remembering interactions that aren’t tainted with violence. Yes, he’s in a cage. Get over it. These are superhuman creatures who are very likely insane. If they had enough room to move, they could bend the bars or they’d dislocate something trying.”


Oh. Now I felt like a fool. I was probably blushing, given how hot my face felt, but at least in the dark nobody could see. Except for the vampire, of course. Oh, and the mage with the fire in his eyes. Damn.


“I’ve been inside, Graves. Many times. Don’t get me wrong; there are parts of the facility you don’t ever want to see. There are places that would make you lose your lunch. But this batch has a good set of keepers.”


“Why can’t the whole facility be like this?” Yes, now I was championing what I’d just complained about. Some people are never happy.


Jones shook his head. “You are a piece of work, Graves.”


I was getting itchy from sand seeping into my clothes. “We need to find Kevin. This is taking too long. When are we going in?”


It was Edgar who responded. “When we’re ready. When we’re sure where we’re going. There is no hiding once we’re inside, Celia. The barrier will start to scream the minute we penetrate it, and then it’s only a matter of time before they find us. This isn’t a sneak in and sneak out mission. Only brute force will get us in and out again safely. People are probably going to die, and we’ll be the ones killing them.”


Whoa. That wasn’t what I’d signed up for. “I’m already on a short leash, guys. One more trip to court and I’m this place’s newest inmate. You guys might be able to crawl back under your respective rocks once he’s out, but I need to work in this town again. Why can’t we sneak in and out?”


That set them both back on their heels. “Look,” I continued. “We have our fly. We can use it to figure out a way in. Can’t Edgar bespell a guard so we can take his uniform?”


Jones now looked amused. “So with twenty-first-century technology and supernatural abilities, you want to stage a World War Two movie breakout?”


I shrugged as best I could; my shoulders were cramping inside the pipe. “If it works, why not?”