Unreap My Heart (The Reaper Series) (22 page)

Balthazar frowned. Haven, the sanctuary of Heavenly Hosts when they traveled between worlds. Many mistook Haven for Heaven. Only the Heavenly Hosts had seen the real Heaven. Heck, he’d grown up in Haven, and he still had no idea what Heaven looked like. Balthazar pushed away disturbing images of his childhood and returned to his conversation with the Voyeur.

“The Redeemer’s in Haven?” A useless question to ask because Haven stretched as vast as the Underverse. No map. He barely remembered the ins and outs of the place. Without a guide it would be useless.

Solara nodded. “Zakariel is attending the auction tonight.”

Balthazar sat up and leaned forward. “What’s that bastard doing here?”

Not like Heavenly Hosts didn’t seek alternative companionship from time to time, but as a rule, they avoided the delights of the Voyeur’s mansion like the plague. They said being within its walls tainted their wings. Heavenly Hosts were particular to the point of being OCD about keeping their wings a pristine white. His mother had slapped him once for accidentally rubbing his grubby hands—her words—on the tips of her wings. Brianne hadn’t always been cruel. In fact, he had some happy memories. Until everything changed when his father betrayed her. Solara’s nonchalant response pulled him away from the painful memories.

“I believe he would like to purchase one of my auction offerings.”

Balthazar thought about the Voyeur’s words. Zakariel being at the auction made his life a little easier. He’d know the location of the Redeemer, being a high level Host. But he hadn’t seen Zakariel since he was a child. Sure, Balthazar’s reputation preceded him, and in this case that might not be a good thing.

“He controls Haven now, did you know?”

Balthazar’s jaw would have dropped if he didn’t clamp down on it so hard. “When did this happen?”

Of all the shitty things, this had to be the worst.

Solara stretched like a cat in the sun. One side of her mouth pulled up. “You’ve been in the Nethers a very long time not to know Zakariel had ascended. I’m not so sure he’ll be inclined to help you, considering who your mother is.”

Fuck.

Chapter 24

TYVM

T
HE
S
ECOND
T
HE
L
ESSER
D
EMONS
left the suite, Arianne regretted having said yes to “changing” for the Underball. Changing had been the Voyeur’s word. Apparently, she wasn’t dressed appropriately for the event. The lesser demons, not breathing a word, had moved quickly. Regardless of how much Arianne struggled, they removed all her clothes, leaving her covering all her girly bits while they prepared a bath. This must have been what Balthazar had meant about not worrying about bathing until they reached the Voyeur’s mansion. The plunge into Nixie Island’s lake washed off most of the sticky stuff from the Blood Tree, but parts of her still felt glued together.

Once steam curled from the bath, Arianne gladly sank into the large tub of rose-scented water. She’d leaned in to relax when the terrible scrubbing began. Like Liza Doolittle in
My Fair Lady
—a movie her mother watched almost every weekend—she kicked and screamed while the demons washed every nook and cranny they could reach with their brushes. Arianne felt like the underside of a pot being scoured. When they finished, her skin glowed pink.

For a soul outside its body, Arianne had never felt cleaner. Who knew souls could be washed?

They pulled her out of the tub with a no nonsense attitude, like she wasn’t the first “slave” girl they had cleaned. Arianne only had time to take a deep breath before they smothered her in bath sheets. This time she felt like a car passing through the last part of the wash. She coughed out towel fluff afterward.

The dressing quickly followed. The demons re-braided her hair into the most intricate French braid she’d ever seen. Her red locks fell over one shoulder and looked shinier than they’d ever been. They painted her lips a pale pink and blushed her cheeks, not talking—even to each other—the entire time. Arianne had wanted to chat, find out a little more about the Underball and the auction. Disdainful looks met each of her questions until they showed her the depths of their mouths. No tongues. A pang of hurt twisted her stomach.

That’s one way to ensure silence
, she thought to herself while staring into the mirror.

Arianne had never really liked wearing makeup. A bit of lip gloss here. Some concealer there. She didn’t even use mascara. Now that the lesser demons used her face as their personal canvas, she barely recognized herself. They used too much eyeliner, but the black kohl brought out the blue of her eyes. She had never thought her lips had a bow shape until one of the lesser demons painstakingly applied the lipstick like she was painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

Once they’d overhauled her head, they stood her in the middle of the room. The robe came off. Arianne attempted to cover her girly bits again, but the demons wouldn’t let her. One even raised an eyebrow at her. She got the point. So, with much embarrassment turning her pink from head to toe, she stood still while they applied glittery lotion all over her body. Like literally
all over
her body.

Arianne didn’t think she could have been any more mortified until they dressed her. Well, dressed seemed like a relative term at this point. She was more a one-piece kind of girl at the pool. Her outfit now showed way too much of
everything
.

Okay. Maybe she exaggerated in her head. The bikini she wore covered all her PG-13 bits. Considering her reflection, twisting left then right, she reminded herself to be mindful of her movement. Less moving around meant a lower potential for a wardrobe malfunction.

She didn’t think her situation could get any worse until the lesser demons manacled her wrists together. Arianne’s protest stuck to her throat when she remembered she played the role of slave in this Comic-Con horror story. The tattoo around her neck said so. She cursed Granmare Baba for not thinking of a better way to hide her humanity. She paced the living area of the suite in the gladiator sandals they’d put her in, trying to think of a way out of walking around the Underball attached to Balthazar by a leash while in tiny pieces of cloth masquerading as appropriate clothing for a slave.

She took consolation in the fact that Granmare Baba had done such a good job of hiding her. The information she’d been given about the Voyeur indicated Solara liked humans—like…for dinner. She craved them like expensive chocolate. The fact that Solara hadn’t sniffed her out as one during the entire time she’d been in the Voyeur’s mansion was a miracle in itself. Solara made the witch in the story of Hansel and Gretel seem tame by comparison.

Arianne had worn a path in the carpet when the door to the suite opened. Balthazar had his eyes firmly on the ground until he saw her. He stopped by the door, as still as any statue. Arianne stopped pacing too, frozen in place by Balthazar’s blatant gawking.

They stood absolutely still for the longest minute of Arianne’s life. She barely breathed while Balthazar’s eyes roamed her body. She swallowed, feeling each part of her where his gaze landed turn pink, like he was actually touching her. How was that even possible? When Arianne thought she could breathe a sigh of relief because his eyes locked with hers again, the most devilish grin she’d ever seen formed on Balthazar’s lips. She inhaled sharply. When had his grin become less arrogant and more…sexy?

Arianne realized the mistake of her thought the second Balthazar’s grin turned into a full-on smile complete with a show of fang. Now she cursed herself. She’d completely forgotten about their connection. Balthazar felt her thoughts the second they materialized in her brain.

Oh Lord, give me strength.

Her lungs hurt until she realized she’d been holding her breath.

Balthazar entered the room and closed the door behind him. Arianne jumped at the click of the lock.

“Why’d you lock the door?” she blurted, eyes wide.

“I can’t say I’m not liking this transformation,” Balthazar said, stalking toward her.

Arianne swallowed again, trembling slightly now. She raised her hand to keep him from coming any closer only to realize she’d also forgotten the lesser demons had bound her wrists together.
Ah, crap!

“That’s right.” Balthazar continued to smile. “I bet you’re completely regretting saying yes to this now.”

She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, you shouldn’t have.” She’d backed herself into a wall and Balthazar reached her in two steps. She flinched when Balthazar spread one hand on the wall beside her head. He shifted his weight there as he leaned over her and whispered, “You smell like roses.”

“I-I-It’s the bath water. They used rose oil,” she stammered. Having Balthazar so close frazzled her brain. He seemed bigger somehow. Like he’d grown ten feet since she’d last seen him. And so broad too. When did his shoulders and chest get so broad?

Balthazar touched the tip of his nose to the base of her neck and traced a line up to her jaw, inhaling as he went. The move sent Arianne slumping against the wall for support, her knees threatening to give way beneath her. She raised her shackled hands until they spread over the center of his chest. She clutched at the buckles there, the cool metal digging into her palms. Balthazar tsked after he’d pulled away far enough to stare into her eyes—eyes now lined with kohl. She found herself shaking her head along with him.

“You shouldn’t have spoken over me the way you did,” he said with the softest threat. The kind that sent tingles down her spine.

“I didn’t.” At least she didn’t stammer anymore. Instead, her voice sounded breathy, which seemed so much worse.

He touched her lips with the tip of his finger. “Oh, but you did. I’d pretty much convinced Solara that you didn’t need to change for the Underball, but you had to go and ruin it by agreeing without my consent. Not that I’m complaining.” He raked his gaze over her body again. Like a bomb exploding, Arianne felt all her blood rise to the surface. “But something has to be done about this master/slave relationship we have here.”

“W-W-What do you mean?” Great, the stammering returned. The muscles in her abdomen quivered in the most delicious way. Arianne tried to ignore it and focus, but her body betrayed her more and more the longer Balthazar stood this close to her. She only noticed now, so close to him, that he smelled like sandalwood. The spicy earth scent brought her back to the time her mother burned incense around the house. She went through a whole New Age-y phase before Carrie got sick. Standing a nose away from Balthazar sent a sense of comfort surging through her body with a hint of something more. A feeling Arianne didn’t care to acknowledge. Hot. Drugging. Dangerous. She knew if she let herself cross the line she wouldn’t find her way back.

Balthazar moved his hand from the wall to her cheek. Arianne fought against leaning in to the touch. Even with the fingerless gloves, she could feel the warmth of his hand. The calluses on his exposed skin didn’t feel rough on her face at all.

“You put us both in danger if you don’t act like an obedient slave, Ari.” He whispered her name like the sweetest candy on the tongue. A part of her wished he’d say it again. The other part of her struggled to continue the conversation.

“I won’t disobey you. I promise.” And she meant it too.

“Remember when I said you shouldn’t force me into teaching you a lesson about what it means to have a master?”

She nodded. They’d had that conversation right before they entered the Voyeur mansion. Balthazar had warned her, yet she’d forgotten all about it the second Solara came into the room with her demons. Arianne thought she’d done something good by agreeing. Unfortunately, her good deed backfired in the most frightening yet insanely delicious way.

She hardly recognized the guy standing before her. The sarcasm and gruff nature had disappeared, leaving behind someone who oozed sex appeal like some cologne he’d sprayed on. Heat pooled inside her stomach, causing every muscle below it to clench. If Balthazar didn’t step away now, she’d find herself flat on the floor.

“You know what happens now, don’t you?” His eyes locked with hers again. His voice grew even softer.

She shook her head into his touch.

“I punish you.”

The way he said punish blew the last of her knees’ power to support her body weight. The second she began to slide down the wall, Balthazar’s other arm snaked around her waist and pulled her forward until her body fused against his. Every buckle that touched her skin made her shiver.

She looked up and Balthazar’s lips descended.

Arianne stood there in shock before her brain caught up with what her body was doing. Somehow, even without prompting from her, her lips danced with Balthazar’s. He easily slipped his tongue between her lips and took control. Arianne’s tongue quickly joined the game. When she grazed the tip of his fang, she just about self-combusted. The sharp sensation of his fang against her tongue might be the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. She understood the appeal of vampire novels now. She only had two options at this point: either pull away or pass out. But she didn’t want to do either. She wanted to live within his kiss, to stop time so they wouldn’t have to part.