Through a Crimson Veil (3 page)

Before she realized what she was doing, she licked her lips.
I’m not completely paralyzed,
she noted, but she didn’t test what else she could move.

Her kind—most demons actually—were highly sexual creatures, and so she instantly discerned the change in him. He wanted her. That was another piece of evidence that they shared the vishtau. Her smile deepened. She could almost hear his thoughts.

“Yes, it would be good,” she said, again overcome by elemental attraction. She ran her gaze over him. “
Very
good.” She looked back up at his face. Even through the dark lenses of his glasses, she knew his eyes burned. For a moment, she thought he was going to press his body
against hers—his desire was pulsing that hotly—but he curbed himself.

“I don’t want you,” he said.

“Liar.” She laughed, trying to ignore the shiver of awareness that shot through her. He should know better than to try to deceive her about this. Sexual attraction had its own energy signature, which Mika identified easily; she’d had it directed at her before. But this time she reciprocated, and it was an incredible rush to feel it building between them.

“Don’t push me,” McCabe said. His hand tightened around her throat.

“You might not
want
to want me, but you do. You’re already picturing this, aren’t you? What’s your fantasy? Pulling me into the alley, tugging my pants out of the way, unzipping your jeans and thrusting inside me?” She asked because, incredibly, that was what was going through her own mind, and she couldn’t deny it. “Our first time would be hard and fast, but the second—maybe that would be slower. Or maybe not. Not the way the fever’s raging between us.”

“I told you not to push.” He gritted the words out.

“Why? Am I making you hot?”

Mika didn’t know why she couldn’t stop herself. Unlike the way she was acting, she knew how dangerous this man was, and that he could easily kill her. Every time she opened her mouth, she surprised herself. Perhaps it was a good thing she couldn’t move, because who knew what she’d be doing if she were able to touch him. Her eyes dropped to the front of his jeans and the fantasies in her mind intensified.

“You’re practically vibrating with desire,” she found herself saying.

“Lust,” he corrected. “And yes, you’re causing it.”

Her smile became a self-satisfied smirk. “Yes, I am.”

His face became even more forbidding. “You’re using some dark power to cause it,” he elaborated.

She laughed again, before she could stop herself. Her, using powers on him? That was impossible, because she was just as affected. “You wish that’s what it was. Then you could tell yourself I’m manipulating you. That’s excusable, understandable even—but it’s not the truth. Face it, McCabe, you just want me. There’s nothing supernatural about it.”

They stared at each other: she, with surprised delight, and he, with barely suppressed fury. She knew when she won, when he stopped lying to himself about their attraction, but she also knew it wouldn’t make anything easier.

“Why are you following me?” he asked. His hand left her throat and he took hold of her shoulders.

“Ooh, changing the subject. Good way to avoid—”

He cut her off with a surprisingly gentle shake. “Why are you following me?” he repeated.

It was time to stop messing around. She wasn’t normally flighty like this, captive to her body’s demands, but no one witnessing her behavior tonight would ever guess. Mika forced herself to become serious, to stop being ruled by desire.

“I want to hire you.” There. See? She could do it. This was the plan.

His voice was cold. “I kill things like you,” he said.

But his face showed so much desire that Mika nearly laughed once more. She restrained herself to a mere twitch of her lips. “I know you do. That’s why I’m here.”

His expression changed as he regained control. “Start talking,” he said.

“You know what I am, right? What species? You know how…dangerous my kind is, how malicious, compared to others?” She waited. A long time.

“Not very,” he admitted grudgingly.

She’d been pretty certain he was aware of the differences between types of demon. Even if he’d never studied anything or had exposure outside of his life, here in Crimson
City, he still should be able to recognize such things; she’d simply wanted to make sure. But it probably hurt him to admit that not every demon from Orcus was pure evil.

“Then you’ll understand why I need you,” she went on. She took a breath. She had to get this right, had to get him to buy her next lie or she was sunk. “I have a Kiverian after me.”

Kiverians weren’t the darkest of demons, the most powerful or bloodthirsty, but they could be close, and one of her kind wouldn’t stand much of a chance against one of them. He’d know that. But that wasn’t why she’d chosen that specific type.

“Why? You demons rarely hurt each other without cause,” he said.

“Rarely isn’t never, and this particular Kiverian believes he has a reason. He hates mortals and thinks my human parent makes me an abomination. He wants me dead.”

McCabe stared at her. Hard. Finally, when she’d about given up hope, he released her from whatever magic kept her frozen. He didn’t let go of her arms, but Mika suspected that had less to do with protecting himself than with his desire to touch her. And she was aware he’d never confess that, not even on pain of death. She almost pointed it out, merely to see his reaction, then thought better of it. If she couldn’t keep a tighter rein on her impulsiveness, she was going to mess up this assignment before it really began.

“You expect me to believe that he took one look at you and decided you had to die?”

Well, she’d hoped, but…“I might have said a few things that irked him. Unintentionally, of course.”

“You taunted a Kiverian until he became fixated on you.” McCabe shook his head, but he didn’t look surprised.

“He was insulting my mother. I couldn’t ignore that.”

Something Mika labeled as understanding flitted across McCabe’s face. “How did you cross paths with one of those monsters, anyway?”

Interesting that he chose that word: monsters. “Bad luck and bad timing,” she replied.

“You’re lying.” He stepped back from her, his face as flat and emotionless as his voice had been.

Mika hated those damn sunglasses; she needed to see his eyes. “Why would I lie? And why would I seek you out if I didn’t need help? I’m not stupid. I understood it would be a risk to approach you, that you might shoot first and ask questions later, so to speak—and that’s almost exactly what you did.”

He grunted and crossed his arms. “I’m supposed to believe a Kiverian is after you because of your smart mouth? That’s too convenient,” he said.

“There’s nothing convenient about this situation,” she snapped. Though he’d released her, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to do anything he might construe as preceding an act of aggression. “It’s disrupted my life for far too long, and I can’t go home to Orcus until he’s taken care of.”

“And you just happened to come to me. That’s the part that’s too pat.”

“Perhaps I opted to come to you
because
of the type of demon after me. Have you considered that? You’re not the only slayer out there, you know, and it would have been less risky for me to go to one of the others.”

“Maybe, but I’m the best,” he said. There was no arrogance in his voice; he merely stated a fact.

She wasn’t able to smother her smile. “I know you are,” she agreed.

“That’s why this could be a setup. I’m too good.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “If this were some setup to kill you, you’d already be dead. You haven’t paid attention to anything but me since you leaped out of that alley.”

And she hadn’t been aware of anything except him either. Idiotic, considering that she already knew there were other dangerous things out tonight. There always were in Crimson City. And there were any number of beings who
wouldn’t mind both her and McCabe permanently out of the picture.

McCabe scowled, the first strong reaction she’d had from him since he’d locked down his desire. “Why were you following me?” he asked again.

“Instead of showing up on your doorstep? I did, but you were leaving as I arrived, so I followed. When it became clear what you were up to, I decided to see if you’re as skilled as your reputation. An audition, if you will.”

His frown became fiercer; he hadn’t liked that. Amusement welled up in her again and Mika struggled to keep it under control. There was nothing quite like the male ego, no matter in which species of animal. When her laugh escaped despite her efforts, she received a heated glare. Then McCabe shook his head and reluctantly smiled. It transformed his face, made him look younger and much more approachable.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he said. “And I’d be insane to help you out if I’d have to put up with this shit.”

“Maybe,” she conceded soberly, “but could you live with yourself if you turned me down and I ended up dead? I’m half human and my demon blood comes from a weak branch. You know as well as I do how powerful Kiverians are. Even if I hired another slayer, he could die with me. You’re my best hope of survival.”

He sighed, looked away for a moment, then drilled her again with his gaze. Or at least she suspected he did. She was becoming damned sick of those sunglasses, and if she succeeded in nothing else tonight, she was getting them off his face.

Mika crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance, and waited. It was make-or-break time for her mission.

“So…you want me to kill this demon for you,” he asked.

She shook her head. “I want a bit more than that. I’ll need around-the-clock protection too.” Before she could
explain, something strummed at her senses. She lost her relaxed pose and turned her head, trying to discern what it was that had intruded.

McCabe stiffened too, and in an action that she found very telling, he moved in front of her. The position was purely protective; it was instinct, not thought, guiding him.

“What did you pick up?” he asked, his voice lower than a whisper.

“I’m not sure.” She was just as quiet. “I only caught a wisp, but whatever or whoever it is, he doesn’t like us.”

“Your would-be killer?”

“I don’t think so.”

McCabe looked over his shoulder at her, and she read deep skepticism on his face. He thought this whole thing was a ruse, that she was putting on an act to convince him she was in danger. Then she felt it again. So did McCabe. He focused his attention in the same direction as she’d sensed the presence. Mika moved from behind his back to his side. She hadn’t picked up any intent to harm them, only curiosity and dislike. But not of the intensity that led to violence.

“He’s cloaking—has to be a demon,” McCabe said. He didn’t look at her.

“Only if he’s very young, a demon who doesn’t have practice holding the mask in place. It’s wavering. You know, others with psychic abilities can pull the invisible act, too,” she reminded McCabe.

“But it’s not as natural for them.”

“Which could be why he’s unable to hold it steady,” she argued. It required great skill and a lot of energy to hide from a demon—much more than it took to cloak from a human, vampire or werewolf. Few who weren’t demons themselves had the ability to do it.

“We need to get out of the light,” McCabe grunted, and Mika figured the change in subject meant he had no good argument.

She said, “I don’t think we’re in danger—at least, not right now.”

“And what are you basing that theory on?”

“I don’t sense any hostility, just distaste.”

Conor muttered under his breath, but Mika ignored it. When he spoke again, she could tell it took a great deal of self-control for him to keep his tone even. “Threat or no threat, we are getting out of this pool of light. Understand me?”

“Yes, I understand, but where are we going? That alley’s dark, but it’s a dead end. That’s a disadvantage.”

“It’s a bigger disadvantage to stand here, making ideal targets.” He looked around. “Okay…to our right, there’s a Dumpster about a block away. We can get behind it.”

Mika glanced down the street. “That’s a long block. Easy to take us out before we reach it,” she said. She waited for his reaction.

“I thought you said there wasn’t any risk. So, which is it—are we safe, or are we going to be picked off?”

She grinned. “Just because I said I didn’t sense anything ready to attack us, that doesn’t mean we can expect to be safe.”

“Which is why I said we need to get out of the light.”

“But—”

He cut her off. “Do you have to argue with me about everything?”

“I’m pointing out things that need to be considered,” she explained happily. She still didn’t have any sense that their watcher was going to attack.

Conor shifted, putting his shoulder in front of her. He was trying to shield her again. “Is this how you’d be if I took on the job of protecting you? Shit, we’d both be dead before we finished our first fight.”

“You want unthinking obedience?” she asked.

“Damn straight. Now when I say go, you run to the right—are we clear?” he growled.

“I say we prepare to attack,” she argued. She threw that out there deliberately. Not to jab Conor but to test their watcher, who had just moved closer. Her plan worked: The
words barely cleared her mouth when whoever it was started making tracks away from their position. He was still cloaking himself, enough so she was unable to identify who or what he was, but Mika knew the instant he was gone.

Almost as soon as she relaxed, McCabe turned and herded her against the side of the building. He was furious and trying to use his size to intimidate her, but unfortunately for him, not only wasn’t she cowed, but she liked his nearness. His hard body pressed her shoulders into the ragged brick, but his hands cupped her butt and pulled her flush against him. “You don’t have to worry about the Kiverian that’s after you. I’m going to fucking kill you myself,” he snarled.

Mika wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a seductive smile before she realized what she was doing. “Yeah? I hate to tell you this, but if you’re trying to wring my neck, it’s farther north.”