She slid underneath the blankets next to him and was surprised when his arms came around her in his sleep, pulling her close. She waited for the constricting evil feeling from her dream, but it didn’t happen.
A few minutes passed like this, and she finally relaxed.
“Tam, nobody walks into my tent without me waking up,” he rumbled.
So he hadn’t been asleep. But he’d still held her like he cared. No. She wasn’t going there. All she was doing was trying to transfer some residual feeling for Jack onto the lesser evil because it felt less traumatic. But was Cain the lesser evil? Of course not. He was the worse evil. He didn’t kill my sister. But he tried to kill Anna. And hadn’t Anna been the next closest thing to a sister?
As far as she knew, Jack had killed ten people. Gruesomely, yes, but it didn’t compare to the vast number of women Cain had killed. It hardly mattered how they died. By numbers alone, Cain was the bigger monster. Transferring anything onto him was foolish. Feeling anything for either one of them at any point in time was shameful. Jack was right, she wasn’t an innocent. Why couldn’t she have loved Henry? He was good. Kind. Decent. Nice. He’d always had her back through everything for two centuries.
Maybe the more important question was, why couldn’t Henry love her like that? Had he been too kind to tell her what he’d thought of her? He’d had a soul mate waiting for him on the other side, but had he known that? Was it from his most recent life or a previous one?
Even though Cain had revealed he was awake, he hadn’t let go of her.
“Your heart was beating too fast when you got here. Was it wild lust for me or something else?”
It was easy to forget how evil he was. Sometimes he seemed so damned normal. An asshole, yeah, but normal.
“Jack came to me in my dream.”
He gripped her tighter, but even so, it didn’t feel stifling like it was supposed to. “It was just a dream,” he said. He stroked her back, and she tried not to read too much into the gesture.
“No. It was real. Jack was there.” She couldn’t help the tears. The last thing she wanted was for Cain to see her cry. Showing that much weakness to a demon was stupid, but she was so tired. Of everything. “Why do you all have to be so evil?”
“You’re old enough to know it isn’t like that, Tam.”
“Isn’t it? How many people have you killed?”
He pushed her away and sat up, his eyes glowing red and angry in the dark. “Is that how it is now? I knew you’d start falling for me, but you don’t get to make demands. I said you’d beg me to keep you. Looks like I’m right. And if you think that’s a way to get your life spared, trotting out all my crimes and trying to domesticate me like a puppy, boy do you have the wrong demon.”
“Then fucking kill me! I never asked to be spared. Put me out of my misery like I’ve asked you to a hundred times. I told you I’d never beg you to keep me, and I never will, Cain. Let go of the dream. This is getting serious. You don’t want to keep me. I’ll never ask you to. I can’t cope with what you are, what Jack is. I want to be free. Just end it. You don’t need me to fight a war with Anthony! You don’t need me at all.” She was tempted to throw an energy ball right at his pretty monster face.
He gripped her shoulders. “You aren’t going to control me. When have I ever claimed to be a good guy? You don’t get to shout out orders and get whatever you want. I do need you for a war with Anthony. You’re strong. But if you really want me to kill you, beg me to keep you and mean it. Tell me you love me, Tam, and maybe I’ll take your request into consideration.”
If he was that gung ho about keeping her to use her in a war, he wouldn’t kill her even if she begged him. He was just sadistic and bored. He could play that game with someone else. “I know you’re used to stupid women who were born yesterday. I’m not one of them.”
He pulled her to him, his lips pressing against hers. It was like Jack in the dream, but different. He slid a dark image of something she’d never trust him enough to do for real—bondage. Whips. Of course, Cain would go for the freaky stuff. He was eight thousand. Nobody that old just did it missionary. Not that they’d just done missionary. In the time she’d been in his care, they’d made it through the entire Kama Sutra. In spite of herself, she melted against him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The demon pulled away while she was still dazed with the images, half of her wanting to act them out. She was a bad witch. She couldn’t even remember to keep her shields up. Was that how Jack had gotten into her dream? Had he been trying before and failed?
Cain’s face was serious now. “Jack kills his kind, for power, and ultimately to control everything in the human dimension if we can’t destroy him. I kill my dinner. Being at the top of the food chain doesn’t make me evil. And you know that. You’re two thousand, Tam. So get over this self-loathing. It doesn’t suit you.”
“What about Anna? She wasn’t dinner,” Tam said, not willing to concede the point just yet, even though she knew he was right. Two thousand or not, she was still moderately human, and right now Cain and Jack looked like two flavors of the same guy.
“My brother had been imprisoned for half a century, and your friend stubbornly refused to do the only thing to free him. So yes, I took matters into my own hands. She put herself between me and Luc. I’m also not claiming to be good. I’m saying, I’m not Jack.”
“But you’re still playing with me. You don’t want a relationship. You want to toy with me until you’re bored. So you’re still an asshole.” Where had that come from? She didn’t want a relationship with a demon so what difference did it make if he did? Weren’t they both using each other?
He smirked. “Now that I’ll admit to.” He started to pull the shirt over her head, but she stopped him.
“I can’t.” She didn’t want to think about the fact that she still wanted to. Obnoxious or not, there was something about him beneath the surface. Maybe it wasn’t real and it was the same bullshit lies women had told themselves about the wrong kind of guy for ages, but she desperately wanted to believe there was something more to him than what he was showing her.
“Because you might beg me or because you’ll hate yourself tomorrow?”
She rolled her eyes at his ego. “Neither. I need to do some big magic, and if you drain my energy it won’t be possible. Jack is closing in. We don’t have time for whatever this thing is we’re doing. I need my books and tools.”
“Okay, let’s go get them.”
“What? That’s it? You’re not going to fight me on the books and tools thing?”
He didn’t answer, he just stood and helped her get up out of the pile of pillows and blankets. How he ever found the strength of will to get up out of that much comfort, she didn’t know. If she were a demon, she’d be tempted to just lie around and starve, or order carryout.
Cain wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. As he turned toward the entrance of the tent, she got a great view of his ass. It wasn’t even the pretty form he used to catch prey. Having just gotten up, he hadn’t bothered with the glamour. Even without enhancements, he looked like he’d worked out endlessly, which probably wasn’t far off the mark. In his brief time as a human, he’d been a farmer—if the stories were true. It was hard to have that job and not look like you’d been chiseled out of marble, especially back then.
“Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” she asked, trying not to sound like a fangirl.
He turned and arched a brow. “There isn’t a being in this dimension who hasn’t seen me naked at least once. It’s an occupational hazard. Why? Would it make you more comfortable if I put some clothes on?”
“Yes.”
“All the more reason not to,” he said with a wink.
She wished she could say she was playing reverse psychology with him and just wanted to scope out his ass and muscular back on the trip to the caves. So much for being ancient and not behaving like a schoolgirl. Though he did have six thousand years on her.
As they walked, he held her hand like she didn’t know where the caves were. Suddenly she was thirteen again—not one of the cycles, the real thirteen—holding a boy’s hand for the first time. The memory fluttered up from the abyss of her consciousness. It was hard to believe it was there under all the other layers from the past.
She barely breathed. Why was holding hands with Cain such a big deal? They’d slept together like a couple of nymphomaniac rabbits—way past the hand-holding stage. Such a simple act shouldn’t create that flutter in her stomach. She should pull away. He should pull away, but his warm hand stayed solidly in hers as they made their way to the caves. Was it wrong that it felt natural? Strip away the demon and witch thing and weren’t they just two people having an affair? Kind of strange motives all around, but still. She was attracted to him, even when he wasn’t using the demon thrall or glamour and her shields were up. Did he find her attractive in the same way? She’d never thought about it, and felt silly for thinking about it now.
It wasn’t until the shock and weirdness of the moment had worn off that Tam felt the metal around his finger. As they moved down the cobblestone streets between torches, she turned his hand to see the ring with the runic markings. She stopped, pulling him back with her.
“What?” The demon seemed puzzled they’d stopped moving.
“Nice jewelry,” Tam said.
If a demon could blush, or show any signs of guilt, Cain was doing it right now, though it was hard to tell for sure with the low lighting of the demon dimension. He pulled his hand away, and she couldn’t decide if she was disappointed.
“A friend gave it to me.”
“Mmm-hmmm,” Tam said, not buying it. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Someone did a spell for you. I can feel the magic on it. Was it to protect you from me? I’m flattered you find me that threatening.”
He growled. “So I should trust the witch I’m toying with not to turn the tables and hex me for it?”
“So you admit it openly. You’re toying with me.”
“I’ve admitted it openly from day one, and yet you’ve been spreading your legs. So much for age making you smarter.”
She laughed. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to judge me.” She refused to let his words hurt her. It was all part of how he played. She knew what she’d signed on for when she’d made the bargain with him. Of course, she’d thought she’d be dead by now. At this point, did she really think he’d kill her? If not, why was she still sleeping with him?
Tam hadn’t been awake long enough to contemplate these deep thoughts, so she put them on the shelf where she kept all other unpleasantness, like why she couldn’t be in love somebody like Henry.
“So,” she said, willing herself not to be distracted, “what did you use to bind the spell?”
He’d already turned and started walking away from her in all his naked glory toward the caves. He tossed an answer over his shoulder. “That lovely scrap of black lace you had covering your ass the last time you seduced me.”
Okay. That was it. A ball of energy glowed in her hand. He should have expected it by now, but he hadn’t gone noncorporeal. The ball hit squarely in the center of his back. Tam heard the sizzle as it scorched his skin.
He rounded on her and roared as he shifted into the demon form, horns popping out, fangs descending, eyes glowing. “I’m not your punching bag. I should suck the life out of you for that.”
Tam didn’t flinch. “Out here in the middle of the desert? In that form? Kinky.” How many ways could an incubus suck the life out of you? Those had been his words. Not snap your neck or rip out your heart... suck the life out.
“You’d probably like it, you little freak.”
She shrugged. “Hey, I’m old. Same as you. We get creative and experimental the more time passes.” The truth was, she wasn’t put off by his demon form. Cain was Cain to her. For better or worse.
The demon smirked, erasing much of the sinister look and irritation, even though the swirl of dark, black emotions pressed in on her. She wouldn’t back down or show fear. Not to him.
She didn’t know why she was pushing so hard. Did she still really want to die? If they could get to Jack and stop him first? The death wish was beginning to fade, but it wasn’t that she’d suddenly found a new reason to live, it was that the demon was right. She wasn’t going to say she was falling for him—that would be an admission worthy of psychiatric care, but she did enjoy their time together, even the fighting because fighting made her feel like maybe there was still something in life worth fighting for. It reminded her she wasn’t dead yet. If she could still work up an energy ball or angry words, there was something there that wasn’t completely lost.
She shook herself out of the pattern of thoughts she still didn’t want to address. “You can’t just take my stuff for magic, especially not my underwear. It’s tacky.”
“You left them in my cave. It’s not as if I rooted through your bags.”
Tam trudged along behind him, keeping a safe distance so she couldn’t feel the emotions the demon form brought with it. He couldn’t help that those things existed in that form. Did he feel them as much as she did? Did he draw strength from it or did it weigh him down? How could anybody, good or evil, carry that around with them all the time, just under the surface? Where did it all go when he was in the handsome form and she couldn’t feel it? Did he keep it all bottled inside?
In spite of herself, and everything else, the tiniest seed of sympathy for the devil sprouted within her. And she knew it would be her downfall.
