Date With Death (Welcome To Hell) (5 page)

BOOK: Date With Death (Welcome To Hell)
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Chapter Nine

Mictain didn’t arrive in time to stop Marigold’s impromptu flight and intimate encounter with the wall, but he was behind the demon when it yanked down its zipper.

“Like bloody hell,” growled Mictain. “Get away from her.”

The ugly pit demon whirled, its
red eyes glaring at him. “This doesn’t concern you,” it hissed.

“Wrong. The girl is mine.” Mictain enjoyed saying the possessive words.

“Stupid human. I shall enjoy killing you.” The demon grinned with pointed teeth and slimy drool.

He probably meant to
appear scary, but Mictain laughed. He hung out with a lot worse back home. “Who said I was human?” Mictain then proceeded to show the beast the error of its ways. As an Aztec god, Mictain was far from normal. He was stronger, faster, and at his core, a natural born warrior, and of course, a god. A demon of the lower castes wasn’t even close to a match. With a few well-aimed blows, Mictain incapacitated the creature who thought to hurt his woman and sent him back to Hell for punishment. Lucifer frowned upon demons who preyed on the mortals for fun. Lucifer enjoyed explaining to breakers of this rule, usually with a sharp object, that the torture of mankind was his job.

Danger taken care of, he turned his attention to Marigold, still ignobly splayed on the pavement, her eyelashes fluttering. He scooped her up with care then strode out of the alley and toward her apartment.

“You with me, witch?” He suspected she’d sustained a concussion and wanted to keep her awake if possible.

“Dat wasss hot,” she slurred against his chest.

“I know I am. Silly witch. What were you thinking?” She didn’t answer, though. Her eyes shut and her head lolled against him. His anger burned at her injury and he wanted to bring the demon back so he could beat the fuck out of it again.
How dare he touch my woman.

He
called for his reaper cloak, enveloping them within its folds and rendering them invisible. Or so he hoped. For all he knew, Marigold’s very presence would annul its magic. Not that he cared at this point; her wellbeing was more important than a few pointed stares from humans. He picked up his speed and ran with her cradled in his arms, his legs swiftly eating up the few yards left to her apartment. He charged up the stairs and zipped down the hall to her apartment door.

He ran into a dilemma
, though; her place was locked. It occurred to him that he could quite easily kick her door in, but not only would that possibly alert her neighbors, he didn’t think Marigold would appreciate it.
Although, I’d like to know when I started caring about what a woman thinks.
Then again, as his cock reminded him, a happy woman was easier to get naked.

Kneeling, he balanced Marigold on one knee while he dug her key out of her little clutch purse still attached to a loop on her pants. He unlocked and opened the door before standing back up with her and going in. The door thumped as he kicked it shut behind him. He headed with the still unconscious Marigold to her bedroom. He just wished his first visit to her room could have been for other reason
s—
unclothed, sweaty ones.

Mictain walked into
the pink nightmare for the second time that night and fought not to recoil. It hadn’t improved in his absence. For a witch with a saucy sense of humor, her room was awfully girly. From the light pink walls to the darker comforter, everything was in shades of rose with the white furniture providing the only contrasting color. Hoping it wouldn’t affect his masculinity, he placed her gently on her bed, then scratched his balls in an effort to combat the cloying femininity surrounding him.

Manliness reaffirmed, he knelt beside
her on the bed and checked her pulse. A strong beat met his fingertips, reassuring him somewhat. He palpated her head until he found the goose egg on her scalp. She’d have a definite headache when she woke. He went to her kitchen and came back with a bag of frozen peas. He sat on the bed and lifted her on his lap before pressing the cold vegetable compress against her injury.

She didn’t react. She lay still and it worried him.

“She’s not going to die,” said Satan, his voice sounding a few seconds before the scent of brimstone hit Mictain’s nose.

“What are you doing here?”

“I got your present, thank you very much. Stupid demon. I gave him to her father to play with. There’s one house that needs some ear plugs with all the screaming that’s going on in the dungeon.” Lucifer chuckled. “How come you’re with the witch anyhow? Didn’t you get my message saying I didn’t need that information any more?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“I decided to earn some brownie points disobeying a direct order.”

For a moment, Lucifer appeared stymied. Then steam curled from his nose. “Defiance is only acceptable in other people’s minions. I expect perfect obedience from mine.”

“Oops. My bad. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a witch to attend
to.”

“No
, you don’t. As I said, she won’t die.”

“Then it won’t hurt if I stay and tend her.”

“Oh it might. I didn’t just come here to tell you that. I actually came on her father’s behalf. He wants to know what the fuck your intentions are toward his daughter.”

Intentions? Fuck if he knew. He’d not thought much past punishing the offending demon and then caring for her, healing her so he could without guilt
peel off her clothes and claim her body with his. Probably not the answer he should go with. “Tell her father to ask me himself. Or better yet, tell me who he is and I’ll tell him myself.”

Lucifer grinned. “Nice try. I’m not going to give that bit of knowledge away that easily. But seriously,
you never did answer me. Why are you back here with the chit? I told you I didn’t need any info and she’s off the soul claiming roster.”

“Did it ever occur to you that what I do is none of your business?”

“No.”

Despite his evil ways, Lucifer did have an odd sense of honesty.
Mictain restrained a smile. “She intrigues me. You of all people should know how rare that can be.”

“Rare
, yes, but keep in mind that if you get involved and then decide later to break her heart, I won’t stop her father from coming after you. A father’s got the right to protect his little girl.”

“Oh please,” said Mictain
, rolling his eyes. “She doesn’t even know who her father is so I highly doubt he’s as interested as you say. Not to mention Marigold is a grown woman. I’m sure I won’t be her first lover.”

“You could be her last
, though,” muttered Satan enigmatically. “Well, it was nice chatting, but I need to be off. I hear we’re getting a whack of Taliban fighters and boy will they be surprised to meet me.” With a poof, Lucifer went back to Hell and his job of meting out punishment with a smile.

“Was the devil just in my bedroom?” asked Marigold, her voice groggy.

He glanced down and saw her peering at him with bleary eyes. He smiled. “Hey, gorgeous, nice to know you have a thick head to go with you
r—

“Don’t even say it,” she growled, clarity returning quickly to her eyes. She pushed herself up from his lap only to groan and grab at her head. She collapsed back
intohis arm
s—
where she belonged.

“I’d stay still if I were you. You’ve got a doozy of a bump on your head. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not
to play with demons?”

“She must have skipped that chapter when she read me
Dealing with Demons
.”

Relived she didn’t seem worse for wear,
Mictain chuckled. “What a lame joke. You must be feeling better.”

“I will if you get me some bloody Tylenol. Bathroom cabinet, second shelf.”

Mictain eased out from under her and went to fetch the medicine along with a glass of water. She popped the pills in her mouth and gulped the water gratefully. “Thanks. You can go now,” she said, closing her eyes.

I
gnoring her order, Mictain climbed onto her bed. Her eyes popped open and she glared at him. Despite her dirty look, she didn’t fight him when he picked her upper body up and draped her on his lap again.

“Why won’t you leave?”

“You have a concussion. You can’t be alone.” Besides, he felt no burning desire to go anywhere else. Not unless she came with him. His attraction to her made no sense. His need to stay with her baffled him. But, he couldn’t bring himself to go.

“Then I’ll call a friend.”

“Not necessary.” Like hell she would call someone else.

“I don’t understand you. What do you want from me?” She peered up at him, her brows drawn in puzzlement.

A good question he didn’t have an answer for yet, but he gave it a shot. “A kiss?”

“Seriously?
That’s all you want?”

He heard the incredulity in her tone and grinned. “
Are you saying I should have aimed for more?”

“No. So just a kiss
and you’ll go then?” Surely that wasn’t disappointment in her tone?

A kiss for now,
he thought.
But when you get better, baby, I’m going to caress every inch of your body and then some.

 

*

 

Marigold’s head throbbed, but not as much as her pussy.
One kiss and he’ll leave. I’d better make sure it’s a good one.

Mick slid her off his lap. She wondered if perhaps he’d change his mind and leave.
Nope. He covered her, his large body poised over hers, his arms supporting his weight. Marigold sucked in a breath. With nowhere to look but up, she found herself drawn into his gaze. His smoldering eyes made her squirm, her arousal rapidly overtaking her discomfort and leaving her with a different kind of pain. A pain he could heal.

He lowered his head slowly until he hovered
, a hairsbreadth above her mouth. She waited, her pulse speeding up with anticipation. Her nipples tightened. Her sex clenched. And when she thought she would scream at him to hurry up, he kissed her.

How could I ever have thought any other man would do?
She hated to admit it, but when Mictain kissed her, it was like no other embrace she’d ever experienced. It instantly set her on fire. It made her forget she was mad at him. It took the pain from her injury and transformed it into pleasure. It made her heart rac
e—
for him.

He
embraced her tenderly, sweet and soft caresses that teased her. She could sense the passion he restrained. It hovered there just beneath the surface, and she wanted it. She wanted it to touch her.

As if he heard her silent plea, his kiss deepened, his tongue slipping into her mouth to dance with hers. His lower body
sank to rest against her pelvis and she let her thighs part, encouraging him to nestle between them. He got the hint and in his new position, thrust his groin against her sex. Even through her tight pants, it was like a jolt of pure electricity shot through her.

She gasped against his mouth. He pulled away.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes shadowed with concern.

Lips throbbin
g—
both upper and lower set
s—
she could only stare at him.
What is it about him that makes me lose my mind?
“I’m fine. You’ve had your kiss. You can leave now.” She spoke the words even as her bod
y—
and strangely,her hear
t—
screamed in her mind for him to stay.

“I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She refused to admit or give in to the pleasure his simple declaration shot through her. “But you said you would if I kissed you.”

“I never said I’d leave. You asked what I wanted and
, might I say, I now wished I’d asked for more than a kiss.”

“Pig. Get out.” Marigold tried to put some conviction in her words, but couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips, especially when he grinned at her unabashedly.

“What, you want me to get out of my pants? Sure, but first, why don’t I give you a hand taking off yours?”

Marigold smirked. “Good luck. These suckers are skin tight, and I’m in no shape to struggle with them. I’m injured
, remember.” She continued to smile as she laced her hands under her head, which barely hurt now thanks to the Tylenol…and Mick.

He rubbed his hands together. “I love a challenge. I take it I’m not allowed to slice them off you?”

She mock scowled at him. “I love these pants. Don’t you dare rip one stitch.”

He winked
, and in one deft motion, unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, giving her stomach some much needed breathing room. Her pussy, however, felt more confined than ever. She tingled at the hot brush of his fingers as he grabbed the waistband on either side and tugged. Not far, her pants were glued on.

He frowned. “Put your legs together.”

“Gee, most guys would ask me to spread them further,” she joked. He laughed as she scissored them shut with a smirk. He tightened his grip on her waistband and pulled again. They didn’t move much further, but he grinned in accomplishment anyway. Slow and methodical, he yanked, wiggled, and rolled her pants down, peeling her like some exotic fruit, one leaking honey juices.

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