Through a Crimson Veil (20 page)

To her utter amazement, she knocked the dark demon back a step. His facial expression remained unchanged, but Mika had a gut feeling he was every bit as surprised as she.

Her moment of satisfaction was short-lived; he sent a barrage her way. Mika tried to form a tornado again, but she couldn’t concentrate while trying to get away from the magic he was aiming at her. With him having so much firepower, evading every shot was impossible. Mika was nearly caught by two spells, before the third connected dead-on. Her head reeling, she battled to stay upright. Her brain seemed to be misfiring, but one thought registered: If she went down, there was no way on earth she’d be able to get up again—and she wasn’t dying on her knees.

Conor tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the traffic light to change. This unusual lack of patience he felt was one more irritant he could lay at Mika’s door. He’d never been antsy to get home before she’d arrived, but sometimes the need to be with her nearly staggered him.

Tonight it was something more specific than simply wanting to be with her. From the moment he’d arrived at the location where the bodies were found, he’d had this feeling the whole thing was too pat, too orchestrated. The murders were demon kills, he didn’t doubt that; but after a couple of hours of questioning people, the sense that it was a setup had become overwhelming. A setup for what, though?

If someone hoped to take him out and leave his woman vulnerable, they were in for a surprise. He might loathe
one of the powers he’d been born with, fear what using it would do to his humanity, to his very soul, but it also came with a damn near unbeatable advantage. Except, no one had taken a shot at him while he’d been asking questions. That made him uneasy, and the sense was again tied to Mika. But this time he knew she was safe: She’d promised him she wouldn’t leave the house.

The traffic light turned green and he stepped on the accelerator. Mika was his—she hadn’t argued about that. In fact, she’d staked her own claim. Maybe she’d thought he’d be angry, but he’d liked it. Shit, she did have him in the palm of her hand and there was no point in denying it. The only thing to do now was to try to limit the damage Typhoon Mika would leave behind when she blew out of town.

Reluctantly, Conor smiled. He’d miss her like hell when she walked away, but he couldn’t regret being with her. For the first time in his life, he felt connected to another person.

But someday she’d leave, head back home to Orcus. Or maybe head out looking for someone capable of saying
I love you
. The idea of another man with her made him scowl fiercely, and he forced himself to stop thinking of it. Instead he focused on all the dead ends he kept hitting in his investigation.

It was unusual: Most demons were smart, he’d learned that years ago, but this group seemed to be unusually cunning. They stayed one step ahead of him, and he felt as if he were chasing shadows.

Conor gripped the steering wheel harder. Mika was in serious danger, and he didn’t want to sit around twiddling his thumbs, waiting for trouble. He wanted to be proactive, to take care of the problem before it took care of her. But there was nothing he could do except wait till they tipped their hand.

If it were anyone but Mika, he’d consider a plan of using bait. He could use her to lure the would-be killers into the
open at a time and place of his choosing. That kind of advantage could tip the scales in his favor, and he had the weapon Nat had given him. Even though the man had been scared, Conor trusted his info; if Nat said the bulky-looking pistol killed demons, Conor believed it. But because this was Mika, he wouldn’t risk that. He would never risk
her
. If anything happened to her because of one of his plans, he’d never forgive himself.

The signal turned yellow. Conor would have floored the gas, but the car in front of him stopped and he muttered a curse. It was late; didn’t these people have anything better to do than get in his way? He wanted to get home, to see Mika light up when he opened the door. She’d run her gaze over his body as she walked toward him, checking to make sure he hadn’t been hurt; and when she was satisfied he was fine, a look of relief, of joy, would cross her face. Conor closed his eyes, savoring the image. Then Mika would put her arms around him and—

A horn blared behind him, knocking him out of his daydream, and he took his foot off the brake. He had it bad. She’d become too damn important to him and he’d reached the point where he enjoyed hearing her say,
“I love you.”
And as much as he liked the words when his cock was deep inside her, he enjoyed hearing them even more outside the bedroom. It gave him a ray of hope that this wasn’t only a heat-of-the-moment thing, but real. He knew better, though. He was protecting her, and in a situation like this, it was easy to confuse gratitude with something deeper.

Conor growled, then shook his head. Since meeting Mika, he’d been making sounds that weren’t human more and more often. And she liked it. Every time a demon noise escaped, he felt the change in her.

Yes, his sexy little whirlwind frightened him more than any enemy he’d ever faced. She could decimate him—which was scary enough—but the most terrifying thing was
what she did to his control. His Kiverian nature was slipping the leash with alarming frequency. Sometimes he didn’t realize it had happened until long after the fact. It wasn’t conscious on his part. Certainly, he hadn’t been attempting the integration that Mika promoted, but it seemed to be occurring anyway. Conor ran a hand over his chin and shook his head. She’d turned his life upside down, and he wanted her to stay, wanted her to keep doing it.

But he knew she wouldn’t.

Mika’s ties to Orcus, her mistaking some other emotion for love, his somberness—those were just the tip of the iceberg. Conor had seen his Kiverian side scare people: his mother, a woman he’d had a serious relationship with a few years ago, others. He’d never been able to contain his demon nature tightly enough for any extended period of time. Mika was frightened of the Dark Ones. How long till she became scared of him too?

What he’d done to her in bed…Conor still felt sick when he recalled Mika’s lesson. She’d had him so worked up the other night, he hadn’t been able to think about anything except his lust. He sure hadn’t heard a word she’d said, not until she’d pinched him, and even then there had only been a moment of focus before he’d sunk back into desire. What if she’d been less forceful about getting him to listen? What if she really had said no?

He used his fingers to wipe away the sweat that beaded on his upper lip. Mika wanted him to wonder about his father’s actions on the night Conor was conceived. Her ploy had been a success. He did speculate if the demon had heard anything that had been said, and Conor questioned how assertive his mother had been about breaking through the mindless hunger.

Which made Conor even more determined to remain in command, particularly in bed. Even though they both healed fast, he didn’t like that he’d bit her hard enough to draw blood, that he’d left bruises on her soft skin. But despite
his regrets, Mika was able to push him out of his head. The wilder he was when they made love, the more she liked it.

Conor started sweating again, but this had nothing to do with fear. Mika wasn’t experienced—he’d read that right—but what she lacked in skill, she made up for with enthusiasm and imagination.

Traffic thinned out. He couldn’t jump her first thing in the door…could he? They hadn’t done it standing up yet.

The idea of taking her against the wall, only the bare minimum of clothing shoved out of the way, got him hot. Conor shook his head, trying to clear that mental picture. His body was half-hard just from thinking about it, and he had to get his thoughts on something else or he might not be able to walk by the time he arrived home.

He’d see how Mika reacted when he kissed her. Maybe she’d be fine with a quickie in the entryway. And maybe he should keep his damn mind on his driving before he had an accident.

It seemed to take forever before he parked his pickup on the street in front of his house. He turned off the ignition, but he didn’t rush to get out. She’d told him they balanced each other. Conor knew she meant his soberness with her whimsy, but it went deeper. Mika’s joy and laughter had pulled him from limbo, and not only had it brought him to life, but it kept him anchored there. He needed her in ways he was only beginning to comprehend.

Stepping out of his truck, he pocketed his keys and slammed the door. Somehow he had to convince Mika to stay with him.

He rounded the hood, already anticipating the feel of her mouth under his. Her pants had an elastic waistband; he could have them down around her knees in no time. Conor’s lips turned up ruefully. He had it bad, no doubt about it.

Halfway to the front door, it registered. Conor froze,
scanning with his senses, and immediately realized his protection had been compromised.
Son of a bitch.
He strengthened the energy shield that surrounded his body.

It would have been smarter to enter stealthily; he knew that but didn’t give a rat’s ass. His woman needed him. Bursting through the front door, Conor took in the scene in a split second. Another one of those damn dark demons was shooting something at Mika from his hands. She looked half-dazed, hair falling into her face, and Conor knew the bastard had her. The great room was in shambles, as if a tornado had gone through it—Mika’s way of defending herself, he realized.

The dark demon looked at him, then at Mika. When his hand drew back, Conor struck; with his forearm, he knocked the Dark One’s aim off. A fireblast hit the ceiling, leaving a smoldering, charred hole. Conor had to block from his mind what that blast would have done if it had struck Mika.

If he could just hang on to the bastard, he could freeze him—but Conor wasn’t given the chance. The demon quickly escaped. Conor pursued, but wasn’t able to narrow the distance between them.

“Cowards run,” Conor called with a snarl.

The dark demon turned, his eyes glowing, then said calmly enough, “Believe what you will.” Finally, firing another blast at Mika, he ducked out the door.

Conor barely had time to intercept. His protective shield held—something he’d wondered about, given what Mika had said about the Dark Ones’ power. The magic was the most intense he’d ever felt, but he absorbed and processed it into energy he could use. If only he had a target. His enemy was gone. To verify, he ran a scan, but he hadn’t missed anything. He muttered a couple of curses and then turned to check on Mika. She was swaying and he caught her as her knees buckled.

“Honey, are you okay?” he asked.

No response. That wasn’t good. He sat down, holding her on his lap. Her whole body shook violently, and when he lifted her eyelid to check her pupils, all he saw was white. He didn’t know one damn thing about dealing with this, and he doubted any Emergency Room doctor would know how to treat it either. Conor cursed again and wrapped his arms around her. “Mika, don’t die,” he begged.

“Not…planning…on it.”

As he cuddled her against his chest, the spasms began to abate. He moved her away and saw she had her eyes open. Conor tried to imagine what the bastard had done to Mika. “How bad is it?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. Her lips curved. “I’m not sure what happened, but…I’m okay, McCabe. Relax.” And she rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease his tension.

“You could have died,” he growled. She
would
have died if he hadn’t come home when he had.

“But I didn’t,” she argued.

Her eyes were clearing, and her body only quivered with occasional spasms now. That enabled Conor to take his fear down a notch and think. After feeling that demon’s power, he knew that Mika was right when she’d said the bastard hadn’t run because of him. There was some other reason why the dark demon didn’t want to engage, but damned if he knew what.

“Are you okay?” Mika’s soft question pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.

“You took a hit, too. I was alert enough to see.”

“I’m fine. I just hope
that
”—he gestured to the hole in the ceiling—“didn’t go all the way up through the roof.”

Mika laughed, and Conor relaxed some more. If she could find humor here, then she was okay. With his index finger, he angled her face for his kiss. Keeping the action gentle, he explored her mouth to express the relief he felt.

For a brief moment after he drew back, they only stared at each other. Then Mika said, “I love you, McCabe.”

He nodded, unable to speak around the constriction in his throat. Her words filled him with satisfaction. As did the way she said his last name: There was so much affection, so much warmth in her voice that it was an obvious endearment. He for damn sure liked it better than the stupid pet names some women used.

Her avowal made him even more determined that nothing happen to her. Which got him thinking again. How the hell had that bastard dismantled his protection? Only someone who had his permission to enter his property could do that. Conor knew Mika hadn’t taken it down and Ben, his former mentor, was in Arizona. He needed to walk the perimeter and see what had happened, see if he could fix things. As long as his security was down, Mika was unsafe here.

A piece of ceiling fell, narrowly missing them and reminding him to check the damage to his house.

“I have to go outside and take a look at what he did to the shield. Will you be all right here by yourself?” he asked.

Her eyes flared. “Of course I will.”

“Honey, you couldn’t stand up a few minutes ago. I don’t want to leave you defenseless.”

As if to prove to him how much she’d recovered, Mika got to her feet and moved across the room. “I’m fine,” she said.

Conor went to her and pushed her hair back until his fingers hit the barrette. He unsnapped it and, using both hands, gently untangled her locks. “If you need me, yell,” he said, and he handed her the clip.

“I will.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded and headed outside. The night air felt cool, and Conor tipped his face into it, trying to sense any demonic presence. There was nothing.