Accidentally Demonic (16 page)

Clay bolted upright, smacking into her, knocking her flat on her back into a pile of dirty laundry. His eyes were instantly open and searching hers while he hovered above her. “What the hell?”

“We need to talk.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Is that asshole back? I swear, I’ll kill him if he doesn’t leave you alone, goddamn it. Are you okay?”

Okay
had so many variables when a man so fantastically gorgeous, rugged, and simply divine was hovering over top of you, your bodies just centimeters apart, as your hormones danced uncontrollably on steroid- injected feet. Casey gulped, restraining the impulse to wrap her thighs around his waist and body-slam him. “No, the asshole isn’t back. But I think I have a question you need to answer.”

His lip curled. His pouty lower one that she simply knew would be a sinful treat to run her tongue over. “Didn’t we just go over the sleep thing and me? This couldn’t wait?”

“No.”

“I was almost asleep.”

“Boo-hoo. I wasn’t. And quite frankly, I’m not sure I ever will be again after the past few days. So suck it up, pal.”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “Fine. I’ll let you play the pity card. I owe you. Get to the point.”

“Hildegard.”

There was a peculiar, almost unnoticeable stiffening of his muscles. And she might not have noticed if his thighs weren’t pressed to hers. Like, really pressed to hers. So pressed to hers they rippled, casting currents of deliciousness along her skin. “The point,” he demanded.

“Who is she?”

“Why do you ask?” He was clearly hedging.

“Why don’t you answer?”

“There has to be a reason for the question.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Says who?”

Clay volleyed a cocked eyebrow back. “Says me.”

“I don’t care what you say,” Casey countered.

“She’s no one who should concern you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Aha! So you do know her. I saw your reaction to her name.”

“And if I do?”

Her eyes clouded with confusion. “Do what?”

“
Know her
, Casey.”

“It means something.” She felt it in her gut.

“Like?”

“Like, apparently Hildegard came calling.”

“Said who?”

“Roosevelt. The doorman. And she came calling for
me
.”

Clay’s silence was all she needed to confirm her suspicions.

Casey pointed a finger at him. “Aha, again!”

“Aha, what?”

“You know this Hildegard, don’t you?”

Clays lips thinned. “I do.”

“So who is she?”

“A woman.”

She pursed her lips. “Never would I have imagined.”

He smirked. “You’re funny.”

“You’re not.”
Hot?Yes. Funny? Not
. “
Who
is she?”

“Someone I know.”

Hugely helpful. “Then why isn’t she asking for
you,
Mr. Cloak and Dagger?”

“I don’t have an answer for that.”

“Then riddle me this—
how
do you know her?”

Clay shifted positions. “We socialize in the same circles.”

“So you’re friends?”

“No.”

The sigh she expelled was aggravated. “How long do you suppose we’ll keep circling the airport?”

Out of nowhere, Clay grinned down at her. “Probably not much longer. I’m pretty tired.”

“Answer the question and you can go back to your coma.”

“I did.”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, you’re being evasive and avoiding the question, but if you don’t answer it within the next two seconds, I’m going to be forced to light your fire, and while I realize being a vampire, you can self-heal, I take pleasure in the fact that it’ll at least be an inconvenience. So answer the question, Clay. Who is Hildegard to you, and what does she want with me?”

“She’s my life mate.”

Casey’s head swiveled at the gasp she heard from behind. One she knew all too well. Wanda’s.

If Wanda was gasping, and getting Clay to spit that bit of info out had been like her trying to get into a pair of size- four jeans—whatever this life mate thing was must have some drama and a side order of serious implications surrounding it.

“Life mate.”

“Yep.”

“Which means?”

“Exactly what it implies. We’re mated—
for life
,” he said between gritted teeth—like it hurt.

Wait. Hadn’t Wanda wondered why no woman had snatched Clay up when they’d been at Darnell’s? “I don’t get it.”

“It means,” Wanda drawled, her lips thin, her expression hard, “that Clay’s somehow managed to avoid ever letting on that he’s mated to someone none of us knew a thing about. It means he’s essentially married—for
eternity
.”

CHAPTER 8

Harsh.

These vampires didn’t fuck around. They took marriage like a cardiac patient should take a heart attack. Crazy serious.

For all the thoughts Casey had, there was one that pushed its way through her crowded brain to the forefront. And it wasn’t pure.

Clay was off the market. Unavailable. Hands off.

How goddamned irritating. How bloody inconvenient.

How dare he be so lust worthy and connubial?

Ah, but that definitely explained why Hildegard had come to call.

Yup.

She wanted to kill Casey for gettin’ up in her matrimonial business and monopolizing her hunky man’s time. He was, after all, sleeping in another woman’s closet—in another woman’s
bedroom
.

With all these rules for vampires and werewolves, would that mean she was in for a staking at dawn because she’d had inappropriate thoughts about Clay? Hopefully, they couldn’t keep a tally of just how many inappropriate thoughts she’d had about him. She could be brought up on at least a thousand charges of indecent thoughts with misdemeanors ranking in the double digits.

Did this GPS also include a mate alarm for when others had thoughts about your spouse that were erotic in nature?

Either way it didn’t change the fact that Clay was married, and Casey couldn’t remember ever being so disappointed about anything as she was that he wasn’t single.

Boo to the hoo.

“I think you’d better explain, Clay.” Wanda stood above them, her tone demanding, her stance wide and stiff. The wide bow on her silk shirt trembling.

Yeah. He’d better explain.

To her libido—which was, at this very moment, preparing to sit Shiva.

Though she’d only known him but three days now, she felt as though she’d been slammed in the stomach with a Louisville slugger at this new bit of information, and that was ludicrous. So he was cute. There were boatloads of cute guys. It didn’t upset her one iota that they might be otherwise romantically entangled.

But it burned her knickers that Clay was.

Glancing up at Wanda, she saw that she had that “do not fuck around with me” look on her face, which, as of late, meant an answer better be in the offing. “So?”

Clay pushed himself off the floor with strong arms, rising to stare back at Wanda, and he did so with clear irritation, like he didn’t owe anyone anything. Crazier still, he did it in his boxer-briefs without any obvious embarrassment. And really, who would be ashamed to be half-naked when they had a body that was so hot-diggity? Thighs that were so—so thick and bulging with muscle? She’d grocery shop in her underwear if she looked that good in them. “I wasn’t aware I had to explain anything to you.”

Oooohhhh, indignation. Nice. Very nice—especially when you could pull it off in your underwear and with Wanda, who was bearing down on him with angry, flashing eyes. He was right. He didn’t have to tell Wanda anything. His personal life was his personal life. She just wished he’d given her libido a holla before she’d spent so many wasted hours fantasizing about him. Not that it would have made a difference. Someone like Clay would never be interested in someone like her, but at least, if her urges had gotten the better of her, and she’d made a complete ass of herself, she wouldn’t be labeled an infidel on top of being an ass.

Wanda’s neck stuck out and her finger began waving in various directions at Clay. “I think you do have to explain if you’re here in my sister’s apartment, sleeping in her closet, and you have a mate you have to atone to who won’t be too happy about you spending time with a young, attractive woman. Don’t get indignant with me, Clayton Gunnersson. The last thing Casey needs at this point is to have to deal with an angry, jealous mate. So spit it out or I’m going to Greg.”

Nina’s husband and head clan- man. Right. Casey remembered from Wanda’s explanation the other night. Oh. Clay was so going to be grounded or something.

His tongue rolled along the inside of his cheek. “Greg knows.”

Wanda’s brow furrowed. “He knows you have a mate?”

“Yep.”

Casey finally scrambled to her feet, too, avoiding looking at the lower half of Clay, but deciding it was time she took care of her own business instead of letting Wanda, who seemed to have developed the steamroller gene, do it for her. “How about we forget all of the mate stuff?” Because she’d like to keep her weeping on the inside. “Okay, so Clayton’s married—mated—whatever you people call it. That’s not the issue. Why did your mate come here and ask for me?”

“I don’t have an answer to that question, Casey. If she should be looking for anyone, it definitely should be me. Maybe she asked for you because no one knows we’re here and she didn’t want to create trouble for you.” His answer was beautifully executed and smacked of bullshit. Though she wasn’t quite sure why it smacked of anything but what he claimed it was.

Casey cocked her head, pushing up the sleeves of her prim button-down sweater. “So here’s the bigger question, then. Why don’t you just call up your mate on the phone, or contact her with your Vulcan mind meld, and ask her?”

Wanda joined her in that sentiment, bobbing her highlighted brown head up and down.

“We don’t speak.”

“Is this a case for Judge Joe Brown—like, divorce vampire style?”

“There are no divorces of any style when you’re a vampire, honey.”

This time she rolled her eyes at Wanda, pushing her mussed hair out of her eyes. “Again. Isn’t there some kind of vampire handbook or informational pamphlet you pass out that answers all of your vampire questions?”

Clay shook his head. “What Wanda says is true. Once you’re mated, you’re mated.” But he didn’t add anything to enlighten her any further, either.

Interesting. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to intrude. Is this mating thing something we should just chalk up to another kooky byproduct of your being a vampire?”

Clay’s face lightened, his stance relaxed. “Kooky isn’t a bad choice of word.”

Closing her eyes, Casey ran her fingers over them. “Look, I don’t want to pry. Your marriage, mating, whatever it is, is your business. I just don’t understand why your wife would want to see me. And I have to admit that my fear comes from this: I’m a little worried she’s going to take issue with me and, like, I dunno, crack open a vein.” She made light, but it was a cover for the sheer terror she felt at the idea that a vampire might set her in the sites of her crossbow, fangs, whatevs. Though, damned if she didn’t want to know why they were estranged. Not at the expense of her ass, mind you, but she was definitely curious.

“You have nothing to fear from Hildegard as long as I’m here.” His words were reassuring, but hidden behind those dark, unreadable eyes was something she couldn’t put a finger on.

Yet something about this was totally wrong. Call it a vibe, call it premonition, but something was missing and she wasn’t going to be left in the dark if some jealous she-vamp came calling. “Then why is she asking for me and not you?”

“I answered that.”

Hands on her hips, Wanda went for it. “Well, Casey may not want to pry, but I don’t have a problem with it. How is it you’re mated and none of us had even an inkling?”

Clay’s face changed, but only a little, and Casey wasn’t sure if the expression he wore was defensive or defeated. “You know how the mating thing goes for us, Wanda. Sometimes it isn’t always what we want, but a necessity for survival.”

Instantly, Wanda’s face went from granite hard to concerned and sympathetic. Her hand went to the front of her white silk blouse, circling her slender throat. “Omigod—you were down to the wire, weren’t you? Oh, Jesus. How awful.” She looked at Casey. “That happened to Greg, as of course you know, Clay. What a frickin’ nightmare that was, but you’re actually living it.”

Casey raised a hand in the air. “Uh, noob demon here. Care to explain?”

“Vampires have a rule. They have to mate by the time they’re five hundred or they turn to dust. I just couldn’t cop to that. Dust is pretty harsh, don’t you think? So I did what I had to do.”

Grim. “So you
can
die in a fashion that doesn’t include wooden stakes and sunlight? Color me befuddled.”

“Mating ensures the longevity of the clan, the integrity, if you will, and the power it creates makes us stronger as a whole when we mate. It’s a protective measure. I don’t know where the rule came from, or how long it’s been in existence. I just know. I’ve seen it, and it blows.” His expression soured.

“So instead of turning to dust you mated with someone you knew you’d have to spend an eternity with—someone out of necessity, but someone you don’t even like?” She had to say it out loud for it to make sense. This paranormal existence was mind-boggling, steeped somewhere back in the Dark Ages.

His dark eyes drifted off to a spot on her closet wall. “Again, your spot-on observations are startling.Yes, in essence, that’s what I did.”

What kind of Neanderthals ran this vampire thing, for the love of God? How prehistoric. And yet, at the same time, promising. It was obvious Clay and Hildegard had no love lost between them.