Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) (3 page)

Molly’s legs shook. “I’m human.”

Tensley turned fast, his eyes a vibrant darkness sucking the air from her lungs. “If it wasn’t for the dormant gene in your father’s bloodline, he too would have the strength, the visible signs of a daemon—which you have.”

Molly painfully shook now, refusing to believe what she had feared for years. “I’m—I’m human.”

“You know the contract, you’ve read it. You know what you are—”

“You—out—now.” Derrek continued down the steps, Fiona following with the wine clutched to her chest.

“I’m human!” Molly cried out, throwing her arms down.

Tensley watched her chest violently shake and then turned to her father. “You didn’t show her the contract?”

Molly’s father paled and fidgeted with his cuffs. “She didn’t need to know.”

“What don’t I know? What’s going on?” Molly looked back and forth between them, heart pounding. “Tell me!”

Tensley bared his teeth and stepped closer to her father, his entire face growing red. “In 1685, the Darlings had a daughter, one with glowing, blessed eyes and unnatural abilities. To protect the family from mass murder by witch hunters, they made a pact with demons for protection, and the gifted girl would be the payment. However, she was burned at the stake before they could collect her, and the Darlings were already contracted in blood—they still owed a gifted girl to my family.”

Molly stared at Tensley’s stone cold eyes and she swore she saw a flicker of emotion—of pity. “Is that true, Dad?”

His Adam’s apple visibly bobbed. “Molly—we thought it best to not tell you.”

Molly’s lips quivered and her eyes burnt. “You lied to me?”

“We told you what you needed to know,” her mother said.

Molly ran her hands through her messy locks and hissed. This wasn’t new—anything but. She loved her parents, but their need to control what she did, what she knew, suffocated her and now, when she finally moved out and began her own life, it was handed over to the man invading her living room. “I’m not human. I’m—I’m…” Molly choked on the words and turned to face Tensley, wearing an expression of stone. “I’m a daemon…?”

“You are,” Tensley said, low and soft, as if she might break if he said it too loud.

“You need to leave. Now!” Her dad jabbed his finger at the door, glaring at Tensley.

Tensley scowled. “Ungrateful
human
.”

“Dad, don’t!” Molly shouted.

“Where is the bedroom?” Tensley asked, turning to look at Molly. “Oh, I guess I should be more specific. Where’s your room, Ms. Darling? I’d like to speak to you
privately
.”

Molly’s body tensed. “Why?”

Tensley shrugged. “A private matter.”

A private matter? The bedroom? He couldn’t mean—?

“Stay the hell away from my daughter!” Her father raised a shaking finger and jabbed it in the air.

“Or what? You’ll kill me with your bare, human hands? Try, please. It would be entertaining at the least.”

Derrek stormed Tensley, and they collided. Tensley grasped him by the shoulders, quickly pinning him against the wall. He struggled to escape, gasping.

Tensley smirked and slowly bent Derrek’s arm back until he gave a ragged shriek and the limb looked ready to break.
Oh god! No!

“Don’t!” Molly ran and gripped Tensley’s arm. “Please, don’t! I’ll take you upstairs, just leave them alone!” Tensley stared down at Molly, his face blank but his eyes heated and calculating.

He gave a crisp nod, releasing her father. “Lead the way.”

Derrek moaned in relief, slumping over.

“Daddy,” Molly cried as Fiona raced over, both of them crouching over the white-faced man as he wiggled his shoulder around, checking its motion.

Derrek looked up, beads of sweat on his forehead.

Molly took a deep breath and pulled on Tensley’s jacket, worried about another altercation. “Come on.”

“Molly!” Her mother’s voice broke behind them, but Molly didn’t stop moving.
I need a plan. I need a plan!
Her heart thudded so loudly she swore he could hear it.

Silently, she led the way up the grand staircase and down the hallway to her old bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

Once inside, Tensley seemed to study the white comforter and ornate molding along the edges of the room. She studied him—the suit smooth across his back, straining from his broad shoulders, his thick, soft-looking hair. His suit pants were baggy, but just tight enough to tease his ass. The damn suit hugged him perfectly in all the right places.
Don’t you dare find him attractive, Molly. He’s a psychopath, and you do not do psychopaths!

His finger slid across the white sheets and to the tips of the pillows. He sat down on the bed and lay back, placing his shoes on the white blanket and sending her need to keep everything tidy into overdrive.

“What’s your name?” He fluffed her pillows.

“It’s Molly.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “And do you know
what
I am?”

“Not exactly.” She gripped the dresser behind her, hoping he’d missed the way her hands shook, her wobbly knees. If he told her what he was, there was no going back. No living in a false reality.

He stretched his arms behind his head. “I’m an incubus. A demon.”

“A
demon?
” A laugh bubbled up at the back of her throat, but if she released it, she’d end up either sobbing or screaming instead, because she knew deep down in her gut, he was telling the truth. “And I ‘belong’ to your family?”

He nodded.

Her first instinct was to run. Her second was to push him out the window.

“You’re my fiancée,” he corrected, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his muscle-roped biceps. “You don’t know it yet, but your eyes hold a rare power. As my wife, your power will become mine as well.”

“
Your wife?
” A wave of nausea hit her fast.
This isn’t happening to me.

Tensley sat up in one swift motion and was in front of her. She pounded against his chest and it made as much difference as punching a brick building might.

“That’s all the daemon has to offer? Weak little fits?” he cajoled, chucking her under the chin like she was a toddler.

“I can’t—I can’t control it! The bursts of power just happen.” She squirmed against him, breathless.

“Oh, you can control it. You just need the right tool,” he said darkly, so close his hot breath fanned over her forehead. “Take them off.”

She shoved him repeatedly. “I’m not taking anything off!”

He reached for her sunglasses and removed them without warning. When she raised her arm to hide her eyes, he gripped her wrist and lowered it with a measured gentleness. For a moment he looked breathtakingly vulnerable and Molly couldn’t look away. The terrifying man was gone and she could see him—and that terrified her. In a panic, she ducked out from under his arm and moved to her doorway. His heavy breathing calmed after a bit, and he turned to face her.

“I’ll bring my belongings to your house tomorrow,” he declared.

Molly’s eyes widened. “Your belongings?”
Are you kidding me!

“I’m the head of the house,” he answered coolly, gazing around her bedroom.

Her stomach of knots twisted tighter. “You aren’t staying here. I don’t even live here any more.”

“Then where do you live?”

Oh crap
. “Uh…”

He looked miffed. “You’re staying here, it’s safer.” He began to rummage in the first drawer of her nearby dresser, holding up a pair of white underwear with an amused expression. “How about some new lingerie?”

“Excuse me, what are you doing? No!” She ripped the panties from him and pressed them to her chest.
He threatens me one second and peeks in my underwear drawer the next? What the hell is his problem?

“Incubi receive power, energy, and strength from physical contact. We’ll get strength from each other,” he said. He held up another pair of her cotton underwear. “So you’re a granny panties kind of girl.”

Her hand itched to slap him. “What is happening right now…”

“No one likes granny panties,” he said, raising both brows. “That’s
all
I’m saying.”

“I am not discussing my choice of underwear with you!” She ripped the second pair out of his hands.

He laughed darkly. “Cold-hearted as I am, I have not yet reached the depths of preferring
these
.”

“I really don’t care what you prefer!” She stuffed all her panties in her drawer and slammed in shut, stepping back on wobbly legs.
He’s such an ass!

His eyes lowered to her knees, a flash of genuine concern racing across his grey-flecked irises. “You’re bleeding.”

She looked down at her cut legs and winced; they looked pretty torn up. “Didn’t really notice during everything else going on. It’s glass,” she murmured as he went to touch a tiny cut on her kneecap. “Ow!” She scrunched up her nose and focused on her breathing. He grabbed her wrist; she yanked it back. “Don’t touch me.”

He scowled and narrowed his eyes at her. That damn fogginess returned. Molly’s shoulder’s relaxed, and when he went for her wrist again, she didn’t protest.

She
wanted
him to touch her.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He guided her toward the bed without protest. She sat down on the edge, speechless as his fingertips hovered over her goose bump-covered legs.

He sucked two fingers into his mouth and Molly scrunched her nose up.
Uh, ew!

“What are you…” she questioned as he pressed his large hand over her calf and an overwhelming sensation of warmth engulfed her. She fisted the covers and held back a gasp, focusing on her breathing and trying to ignore how his hand shot pleasant, soothing tingles down her spine. Molly gazed upon clean, fresh skin a second later, flabbergasted.
Holy—what is going on? Am I still hallucinating?
“How did you do that?”

He looked through his thick lashes at her. “I heal with my body. Demons can produce a large amount of biochemicals to heal ourselves and others by touch. Works even better with saliva.”
So he sucked his fingers?

His fingers smoothed upward over her knee, to her thigh, and she paled. She kicked her foot to his groin and he groaned, his hand retreating to cup himself.

“You’re disgusting!” she seethed.

“I wasn’t trying to get into your granny panties.
Trust me
,” he bit back, rising gingerly to his feet.

“Get
out
,” Molly said, doing her best to ignore the sensual unfurling of heat spreading its way across the places his hands had been.

He turned to the door. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” Just as he opened the door, he glanced back at her with a hard, steely gaze. “And if you even
think
of hiding from me, your father won’t have any limbs left to break. That’s a promise.”

All the anger and adrenaline racing through her veins shifted to fear, pure terror for her family’s safety. Her parents weren’t perfect, certainly not, but she loved them. She couldn’t bear the thought of their injury, or worse…

When the door slammed shut and she waited a few minutes to make sure he was gone, she collapsed on the floor, soaking in every last detail of the night.

Molly ripped the sheets from her bed after he’d left, throwing them in a pile on the floor. Everything he’d touched, she wanted gone. Finally, she collapsed on the mattress, clutching a bare pillow to her chest. “That didn’t just happen,” she murmured, ignoring her parents’ fervent knocks at the door. Deep down in her gut, though, she knew it had.

Tensley Knight, her demon fiancé,
existed
. And he’d most certainly arrived.

WHE
N 
TENSLEY’S OFFICE
door opened, he hadn’t expected to see his father, and certainly not at such an early hour. The older man fixed his navy suit and unbuttoned the jacket, exposing a pristine white dress shirt underneath. A dot of blood flashed crimson underneath his jaw, and he wiped it off with nonchalance.

Who did he finish off this time?

Mr. Knight’s unsettling eyes focused on the mess of papers scattered across Tensley’s large oak desk.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning,” Tensley said as he leaned back in his leather chair. He needed coffee ASAP. Or some whiskey.
Fuck, definitely whiskey
.

His father looked up to meet his son’s tired gaze. “Duke Abaddon’s here. He wants to find more familiars, preferably blonde, to be under his control. He also wants belladonna for pleasure, in liquid and powder form.”

Tensley cocked a brow. “Anything else?” He’d never worked so closely with clients like Duke Abaddon before; he usually handled the lower demons, reminding them not to screw up unless they wanted a boot up the ass. He hated getting his boots dirty.

His father’s gaze hardened. “He requested to see you as well. He likes your so-called ‘fuck-all’ attitude.”

Tensley resisted the urge to groan aloud. He knew not to piss his father off, but he always grew restless taking orders from someone else. Unlike the rest of his siblings, Mr. Knight had bred Tensley to take over the business of serving the Princes, and harshly disciplined him growing up. As much as Tensley hated the man, he still wanted to earn his approval. He wanted to be what the others couldn’t, to show his father, his family, the whole damn
underworld
that he wasn’t like his brother, Beau.

“Once you and the daemon are publicly together, the Hanging Garden of Babylon Princes will fear us. Don’t you want that again? She’ll bend to your will over time,” Mr. Knight scoffed, examining an invisible piece of lint on his suit.

“They should
already
fear us,” Tensley muttered, shuffling papers around to find his file on Abaddon, one of the highest-ranking demons in existence. Tensley was the heir to Scorpios, the family business; after all, they’d been doing the Princes’ dirty work for generations, policing all the lower demons in their New York territory with an iron fist. They were the law; as long as it benefitted them and the higher classes.

His family was depending on him to resurrect their name after Beau’s scandal, and the daemon would do just that. He
really
hoped she’d become less annoying, though.

“Send him in,” Tensley said when he’d located the file, fixing his posture somewhat as the large redheaded demon marched into his office.

Abaddon’s flaming red hair seemed almost comically appropriate, considering his status. “Well, you bastards—got a handful of familiars to sell me?” Abaddon sent a crooked grin Tensley’s way and he tensed involuntarily.

His father nodded. “Yes, Abaddon. Five blondes then? They were just disposed of to us last night.” Familiars were the lowest of the low, weak, mindless, easily manipulated. Humans.

“Good, good.” Abaddon made himself at home and sat down in the chair across from Tensley, knees spread far apart in a show of masculinity. A nasty white scar sliced up from his left cheek to the corner of his eye. Rumors abounded that it had been a punishment from Fallen, the High Prince of Babylon. “I’m in need of some new outlets. No one seems to quell my desires any more; no one knows how to handle
it
.” Abaddon motioned to his crotch.

Tensley clenched his pen and jotted down the specifics in Abaddon’s contract. The demon world was quite familiar with Abaddon’s tastes; he liked pain—or more specifically, for his partner to experience it. Tensley gritted his teeth at the disgusting thought.

“A castrator might,” Tensley smirked, making a show of looking utterly bored by the conversation.

Silence filled the room. Then a loud, hearty laugh rumbled in Abbadon’s chest. “I love this one.” He gave Tensley an approving smile, and Tensley stiffly returned it.

“And you said you needed more belladonna,” his father said, steering the conversation back on track.

Abaddon leaned farther back, causing the chair to squeak in protest. “The belladonna is the best for getting that
high
. I crave it. It makes the women looser, too.”

Mr. Knight nodded at Tensley as he noted it in the document. Once he signed his initials, he passed it to his father, who pocketed it.

“I’ll pass it through today. You should expect the shipment tomorrow,” his father said, gesturing for Abaddon to stand up.

“I also, uh…” Abaddon scratched at the scruff along his jawline. “I need someone to cover up a maid’s death. She was a low-breed bitch, but I don’t want anyone snooping.”

Tensley’s father didn’t nod this time. He simply held Abaddon’s gaze. “It’ll be taken care of.”

Abaddon grinned and jumped to his feet, patting Mr. Knight’s shoulder roughly. “I can always count on you bastards.”

Silence passed between Tensley and Mr. Knight for a moment after the high-ranking demon left.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Tensley finally said. “His
fifteenth
wife just mysteriously ‘dies’ five months ago? I don’t buy it.” There had been rumors of Abaddon killing his wives if they couldn’t produce him an heir. The demon had been marrying women simply to kill them for many years, and Tensley hated to admit how vile he thought it all was.

Mr. Knight raised a grey eyebrow, bemused. “Whether you buy it or don’t buy it doesn’t matter. He’s a
customer
, and a loyal one. We stay out of his way, and what he does with his concubines or wives or whomever he requests is none of our business. Understood?” Tensley glanced away, fuming, but his father went on. “So? Did you mark her?”

Tensley bristled. “No, Father. I have yet to
bed
her.”

“Well get a move on. We don’t want any other demons stealing her away,
especially
when she’s a daemon with the blessed eyes. Mark her. Do it tonight, Tensley. I mean it.”

Tensley hesitated about whether to lie or tell the truth. With heavy eyes watching him, Tensley answered flatly. “She isn’t ready for that.
”
  

Mr. Knight’s jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter whether she’s fucking
ready
yet, Tensley. It’s about protection and claiming her before some other demon sniffs her out
. 
That damn warlock ring is useless now! His death weakened all the items he had power over, you know that. If you don’t mark her soon, someone else will
. 
Do you want to ruin three hundred years of waiting because she
isn’t ready yet?
”
 

Tensley ground his teeth and eyed the mess of papers
. 
He didn’t bother mentioning to his father how a gorgon had been after Molly Darling already
.
 

He’d known as soon as he met her that she wasn’t ready—not for the intimacy, not for the demon world…none of it.

So he had left that night, hating himself for letting out pheromones to desire him, and decided to throw himself into his work. He hadn’t slept at all, pushing his limits. All he could think about, though, was her legs wrapped around his head. He’d give her something to mewl about then.

Women never rejected him, let alone kicked him in the balls or stabbed a fire poker into his gut, after he’d used his charming pull on them. Thinking she was a weak, prissy little girl before she swung the poker was his mistake. The daemon intrigued him, enthralled him, and he hated that. He had to remind himself that she was the enemy, the alluring siren who could destroy him like the human who’d destroyed his brother.

He wanted nothing to do with her, but he couldn’t deny his immense attraction. It was
really
pissing him off. He needed a plan B and his father had just given him the idea. The ring. That would buy him time.

“I’ll take care of it,” Tensley responded, rolling up his shirtsleeves to reveal the scorpion tattoo on his left forearm. It was famous, and for good reason—if one was disloyal to Scorpios and got caught, the leader of the group activated the tattoo’s lethal poison into their bloodstream.

“Just remember B—”

“I said I would take
care of it
,” Tensley hissed, unable to refrain any more, even with his father.

“Remember what that whore did to your brother,” his father said, stepping closer. An icy finger slid down Tensley’sspine
. 
“That scandal has followed us long enough.”

“I’m not a weakling like him, Father. I’m not going to let her control me.”

Mr. Knight stood in front of Tensley’s desk, giving him one final long, dark look that said more than words ever could.

Once he’d slammed the massive door, Tensley held his head in his hands, hungrily gulping the air.

No pressure at all.

Just as he stood up to get some whiskey, his office door flew open and a dark-haired woman marched in. Her features weren’t soft and carefree; they were hard and fierce, and he swore he heard a snarl leave her pinched mouth. “Who is she?”

He sighed heavily. He wasn’t sure how to handle her—he didn’t want to, but he couldn’t figure out how to avoid it. He couldn’t get her involved and he didn’t have time to deal with more complications. “
Evelyn
, I told you last night: I can’t say. My father wants to keep it low key until further notice.”

“Bullshit!” Evelyn gripped the back of the empty leather chair and leaned forward, giving him her deadliest glare. “Is she high-born? Tell me who she is and why the fuck you ended things with me!” The leather tore under her red-lacquered nails, but she wasn’t deterred.

“I told you,” Tensley said through clenched teeth. “I can’t. Fucking. Say. Anything.”

“So your father just decided a month ago that you needed an arranged marriage?” Her face grew redder, nearly as red as her nails. “And you decided a week ago to drop the fucking bomb on me that you were getting married? Does our five years together mean
anything
to you?”

The weight he’d been avoiding, the weight of
guilt
, crushed the air from his lungs. “You know how I feel about you,” he said, genuinely tormented. “And for your safety, I can’t tell you anything more about it.”

Evelyn looked up from her trembling hands then, her brown eyes wet and shiny with tears. His chest ached.
Don’t fucking cry. She never fucking cries!
Tensley stood and went to her, taking her soft cheeks in his hands. She fought it, finally giving in with a whimper.

“Tensley…” she whispered, sending the ache in his chest to new heights.

“Shh. I have plan. I’ll figure something out.” His hands lowered from her face to her neck, then over her shoulders and down, tracing her curves until they settled on her wide hips. “Have I ever failed you?” His lips quirked into a cocky smile, the one he knew she loved best.

Her raw, pained expression iced over, and Evelyn was back to her normal ferocity. “Just get
out
of this mess.” With that, she flicked his hands off and marched out of the room like a soldier after a battle—whether it had been won or lost in her mind, however, Tensley couldn’t tell.

When she was out of sight, he rubbed his jaw. He
would
find a way for them to be together.

He just needed to get the plan to work, and then he could continue on with his life as if Molly Darling didn’
t 
even exist.