Sealed in Sin (4 page)

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Authors: Juliette Cross

Tags: #demons, #PNR, #Supernaturals, #UF

BOOK: Sealed in Sin
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Chapter Four

Mindy squealed and plopped her blinged-out cell phone on the counter. “Mom made Bill reserve us rooms at The Plaza!” She hopped on a stool while I cooked. “Oooo, bacon.” She shoved a piece in her dainty mouth, watching me stir the pancake batter, deep in thought. “Why aren’t you excited about our trip?”

“I
am
. I just…have a lot on my mind,” I replied, turning back to the stove.

We’d wanted to go to New York together ever since I can remember. When my father finally gave me the okay along with the plane tickets for my twentieth birthday, I couldn’t wait to go. Of course, that was before there was this whole issue of Bamal and his minions skulking about, waiting to do me sadistic harm. Suddenly, the trip didn’t hold quite as much charm as it once had. And Mindy hadn’t shut up about her mom’s plans for us. I loved Miss Donna, who’d become like a mother to me after my own died ten years ago. It was Miss Donna’s idea to go the week of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade when her boyfriend, Bill Bridges, was scheduled for a business trip the whole month of November. We’d get to reap all the executive perks while we were there—limousines, Broadway tickets, posh dinners. This was our little-girl dreams coming true.

Mindy crunched another piece of bacon, louder than the first. “You haven’t told Jude about our trip yet. Have you?”

I cleared my throat. “No. But I will.”

“Are you afraid to tell him? Don’t tell me he’s the über-possessive type who won’t let you out of his sight.”

Jude? Possessive? Ha! If she only knew. It had nothing to do with keeping me under his thumb, but more about keeping the demons from killing or kidnapping me. Couldn’t blame a guy for that.

“Well,” continued Mindy, crunching her bacon like a cow. For looking like a Southern belle Barbie doll, she certainly wasn’t prissy like one. “I suppose I’d put up with anything if Dave looked like that.”

“Ow! Damn it.” I yanked my hand away from the sizzling pan, eyeing my thumb where I’d just burned it.

“You okay? Need some ice?”

“No. It’s fine,” I grumbled.

“Hmmm. You’ve been awfully distracted lately. How are classes going?”

“Classes?” I asked, dropping a dollop of butter in the pan.

“Yeah. Classes. You know, college, graduation, career, that sort of thing.”

“Very funny. I’m just—”

“Distracted. Yeah, I got that.”

“I’m fine in everything, except Bennett’s Lit class. Can’t seem to get there on time these days.”

She pulled two plates from the cabinet and started piling on pancakes. “Hmph. Could you be avoiding it because of a certain someone in the class you dated and ditched?”

I gave her my death glare. “Thanks for reminding me.”

So maybe I was avoiding the class because of Malcolm. We’d always been friends. But then, like an idiot, I’d gone on a date with him, knowing I was driving a stake through our friendship because I couldn’t ever form any deep feelings for the guy after Jude had planted his feet, firmly and fiercely, in my life. Then Jude had kissed me that first night, sending Malcolm permanently to the “friendship” category. So now I hated that class with a passion, avoiding his side-long glances and accusing looks. Better to bomb the course. On top of that, Professor Bennett was an asshat know-it-all, and prolonged time in the room with him made me want to bash my head against the wall.

I sighed heavily. “I’ll pass the class. Don’t worry,
Mom
.”

“Sass me all you want, but if you want to do that learning-abroad program or whatever, you have to have the grades.” She picked up the plates and headed toward the living room where her boyfriend, Dave, was waiting for her.

I’d brought up the idea to my dad of doing a semester in the Liberal Arts Abroad Program for the spring semester. Another lie to pile onto the others to hide my true motives. I couldn’t tell him I needed time off from school and working at his dojo to hunt demons and a lost prophecy that could save or doom the world. So I put a little bug in his ear, hoping he’d go for it, to give me an out from school next semester.

“Hiiii, Juuude.” Mindy actually cooed his name as she crossed into the living room right before the man himself waltzed into my kitchen.

“Hello, Mindy.” As always, he sounded dark and rough, which did strange things to my insides.

Apparently, Dave let him in. Not that a door could or would stop Jude Delacroix from going wherever he damn well pleased. Still, it was nice when he pretended to be human, knocking and stuff, rather than appearing out of nowhere and scaring the bejeezus out of me. He had to put on the whole I’m-normal-and-walk-through-doors routine at my apartment when Mindy was home.

The moment he entered the room, all my senses rose to full alert. The man packed enough heat and power in his aura to melt a girl into jelly. A mere glance from his dark eyes or slight touch from rough hands, and I was lost.

I focused on flipping the pancakes on the stove, still trying to figure out how to tell him about our trip to the House of Hades, the near-miss with Gorham, and the brief and strange meeting with my guardian angel. Kat preferred asking forgiveness rather than permission, or just omitting the admission of any sins altogether. But I had trouble lying, though I seemed to do it often as of late. I especially had trouble lying to Jude.

“Want some brinner?” I asked, plopping another dollop of butter in the pan.

“Brinner? What might that be?” He leaned with his back against the counter next to the stove, splaying one huge hand on the countertop, watching me pour the batter into the pan. How did this man make watching me cook a sexy thing?

“You’ve never heard of brinner?” I glanced at the door to make sure Mindy was out of earshot. “For someone who’s been alive nearly two thousand years, you don’t know a whole lot.”

He slid a finger down my forearm. I nearly dropped the spatula. He leaned closer, his chest brushing my shoulder, voice dropping several decibels. “Educate me.” And just like that, my heart slammed into my rib cage, my thoughts scattering to the wind. I stared at him, knowing my eyes were no longer hungry for pancakes. He pressed warm lips, a feather-soft kiss, to the slope between my neck and shoulder. “Genevieve?” Another press of lips higher up my neck, melting me into goo.

“Hm?” Eyes closed, I welcomed a third kiss just under my jaw.

“Your brinner is burning.”

“Oh, dammit!”

I snapped open my eyes, grabbed the smoking pan and thrust it under the water faucet in the sink. A hissing crackle spit up more smoke.

“There goes brinner.”

“You’ve made more than enough already.”

He motioned to the ten-high stack with a smirk. I couldn’t even think about eating now. Not after that kiss. And not with this guilt weighing me down.

Something registered in his gaze. He reached out his hand.

“Come here.”

From his expression, I wasn’t sure if he planned to give me a hug or a spanking. I wouldn’t mind either. Taking his hand, I let him pull me into his arms.

The familiar molten-steel illusion that Jude cast when we touched immediately locked on to me. Flamma cast illusion to trick their enemies’ eyes and demonic senses. There were no enemies in the kitchen of my apartment, but Jude couldn’t help himself. Whenever he touched me, his armor coated me in a snap.

He circled one hand around my waist to the small of my back. I stared at his collarbone, admiring the visible part of his full-torso tattoo poking out the top of his black T-shirt. The top of his intricate Celtic cross entwined by thorny vines became extremely interesting all of a sudden. He tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his dark gaze.

I didn’t say a word, though I’m sure my conscience screamed loud and clear.

“Tell me.”

I bit my bottom lip, suddenly nervous. His black eyes glinted with sparks of gold. I knew now that all Dominus Daemonum were characterized by the swirling black in their irises. I refused to open my mouth and confess a word. Jude changed tactics, one that would surely bend me to his will and loosen my tongue.

Leaning down, he slanted firm lips over mine, forcing them apart. He swept in, tongue stroking over mine. He spread his fingers into my hair, curling at my nape and the back of my skull to keep me in place while he tasted and tormented with sensual intent. Gradually, I grew soft in his arms, curving against the hard wall of his chest. Opening my mouth wider, I let him take whatever he wanted. He hadn’t kissed me like this since the Crescent City Masquerade Ball on Halloween. Not since I’d made a drastic mistake, effectively barring him from touching me in any intimate way. To want Jude and not be able to have him—all of him in every way—was excruciating torture all its own.

I moaned, lifting on my toes to draw closer. He slipped the hand on my back under my shirt, giving me glorious skin-on-skin contact, pressing me harder against him. He moved his other hand to wrap the nape of my neck beneath my fall of hair. He stroked deep once more with his tongue before pulling away, nipping lightly on kiss-swollen lips. It was over too soon. My heart and body ached for much more. I tried not to whimper. Tried.

I hadn’t realized I’d clenched both fists in his shirt until my gaze dropped to his chest. He nuzzled into my hair, lips brushing the shell of my ear. Heat lanced from that spot to much lower places. He did that on purpose. Not fair.

“Tell me.” His husky words were a curt command.

I sucked in a breath and spit it out all at once. “Kat took me to New York to train today. We cast out several demons in some duke’s lair, a demon named Gorham. He was using his spawn to control innocent girls in his brothel. We nearly got him, but—”

I glanced up. Jaw clenched, he leashed his temper. For now. I swallowed hard.

“Continue.” When he became still and steady, I shivered, knowing signs of his anger all too well. The calm before the storm.

“Gorham, the duke demon, he sifted me out of his club.” Jude’s hand around my nape tightened. “But Kat’s partner Dorian showed up and sifted with us. And everything ended up fine.”

Black eyes studied me while whatever thoughts he was having spun around in his head.

I cleared my throat. “Like I said, I’m fine.”

For some reason, I couldn’t tell him about the angel. I’d let an unknown Flamma, whatever his name was, take me in his arms and sift me wherever he wanted. Thankfully, the gamble paid off. The way Jude’s expression darkened, I figured that discussion could wait another day.

“Whose decision was it?” His tone had taken on the sharp, clipped speech of angry Jude.

Expression tight and grim, he must’ve been thinking of Bamal and the string of demon assassins he’d sent after me. The last place I should’ve been testing my skills was in New York.

“Both of us.” I wouldn’t throw Kat under the bus. It was her idea, but I was more than willing to jump in. “Don’t be angry.” I lifted onto my toes, unable to reach his lips. “Kiss me again.”

He held me hard but denied me what I wanted. “I believe you’re addicted to danger.”

The sharp edge of his tone made my heart skitter faster. He might be right.

“What if I am?”

“That’s not a good addiction.”

“Is there any addiction that is
good
?”

His embrace loosened, but he kept me close. “Your vice may lead you astray. I’d be careful.”

My gaze swept over his stubbly jaw, cleft chin, the chiseled planes of cheeks and brow. I observed in minute detail this paragon of darkness and danger my heart could never do without.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

His irises swirled full black. “Don’t step too far into the shadows with me, Genevieve.”

“How else am I to get close to you?”

With a heavy sigh, he cradled my face in his callused hands.


That we can call these delicate creatures ours. And not their appetites.”
He brushed his lips over mine, light, barely there.

“Quoting Shakespeare to me now? I like that. But no tragedies. I’d prefer a sonnet.”

A deep chuckle. “Lover of Shakespeare, are you?” Another brush of lips.

“I’m an English Lit major. What do you think?”

“He was great on stage. But he was funnier in the pub.”

I drew back, hands on his chest. “Wait. You
knew
Shakespeare? As in William ‘the Bard’ Shakespare?”

“Is there another one?” He shrugged. Actually shrugged like it was no big deal. “We weren’t friends or anything. But I drank a mug of ale or two with him in the pubs. Great laugh, he had.”

I shook my head. And shook it. And shook it.

He chuckled, revealing that rare smile, making my heart flutter. “Am I blowing your mind?”

“Blown.” I gestured my brain exploding with my hands.

Grinning, he glanced at the counter, brinner growing cold.

“You hungry?”

I scoffed. “Yeah. But I could give a rat’s ass about pancakes.”

Hands tight on my waist, he sifted us into his darkened bedroom several miles away in the Quarter. He tossed me onto the bed and lowered on top of me.

“Jude.”

“Hm?”

The weight of him pinning me to the mattress felt oh so wonderful.

“Don’t you think Mindy will notice I just vanished from the apartment?”

“No.” He placed a hot kiss on my neck below my jaw. “She’s too wrapped up in her boyfriend.”

“Like me.” I laced my fingers at his nape. His mouth had my head buzzing. “Jude.”

“Hm?”

“You just warned me to stay away from danger.”

He gripped my wrists, holding them above my head.

“This is just a good-night kiss.”

“Is it? What’s with the bondage, then?” I glanced to one wrist.

“To keep your hands from wandering.”

I frowned. “What! You think I can’t control myself or something?”

His laugh rumbled from his chest to mine. I couldn’t help but arch up against him. His smile vanished, expression shifting, dark and deliciously dangerous.

“I’m a patient man,
mon coeur
.” When he lapsed into his French pet name for me, I knew he spoke from the heart. “I will wait forever if I must to have you in my bed.”

“I
am
in your bed.”

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