“A Big Mac. Welcome to fast food.” While he downed two Big Macs, a large order of french fries, and a vanilla milkshake, Bree made some phone calls and found lodging. Seemed there was a conference in the area that had all the hotels full. “It’s an old bed and breakfast,” she whispered, covering the phone. “This should make you feel right at home.”
He wasn’t worried about feeling at home. He was worried about keeping his hands off her. If necessary, he could sleep in the car.
“We’ll take two rooms,” she said into the phone, and Faelan gave a sigh of relief. Bree put the phone away and rummaged in her big bag, took out a tissue, and dabbed at his chin.
“What are you doing?” he asked, pulling away.
“You’ve got dirt on your face. They’ll think you’re an escaped convict.”
“Do you want to know how many cobwebs are in your hair?”
Bracing her knees against the steering wheel, she brushed at her hair with both hands.
Faelan stared at the cars approaching them. “I’d feel more comfortable if you weren’t driving with your knees.” He leaned over, running his hand through her hair, helping her clean up the worst of the mess. She grew unusually quiet. Had she finally realized how much danger she’d been in? It was a wonder she wasn’t swooning. Women were sensitive creatures, with delicate natures.
“I should’ve taken that sword and chopped him into little bitty bloody pieces.”
Damnation, but the woman was obsessed with swords. “You can’t fight him. He’s spent centuries preying on humans, figuring out their weaknesses, using deception, lies, any tricks he can to destroy them.”
“You’re right. Even as Russell, he got scary. How could I have not known he was a demon?”
“Deceiving is what they do best, especially the ancient demons. They give off an aura that draws people to them. Even warriors get fooled sometimes.”
“But I let him get close… oh, God.” Her face went white as alabaster. “Our children.”
Chapter 17
“Children?” Faelan’s lungs burned. He realized he’d stopped breathing.
Bree let the car roll to a stop on the side of the road and turned off the engine, looking as sick as he felt. She covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders started shaking, slight trembles growing into deep, silent sobs.
Faelan pulled her into his arms, mindful of her scratches, refusing to think how Druan had likely held her the same. The position was awkward, making his arm throb, but he held her close and let her cry. He rubbed her back, whispering soft words he hoped were of some comfort as he fought his own dread. Bree’s flesh and blood mixed with a demon’s?
“I’m sorry,” she said, when the tears were finished. “I guess the shock wore off.” She leaned back and wiped her face with the bottom of her shirt. “About five months ago, I thought I was pregnant. Russell went berserk. That’s when he hit me, and I knew I had to get out.”
“The bairn—”
“It was a false alarm. But if there had been a child, it would’ve been half… I can’t even say it.”
Half demon. A halfling. One of the things he was honor-bound to destroy, no matter who the mother was. And she could’ve gone years without discovering its true nature. Some didn’t reveal their evil side until puberty. He had no qualms about suspending and destroying demons. It was what he was born to do. They were tormentors, created for evil. But aiming a talisman at a nine-year-old trying to rip your throat out wasn’t an easy thing to do, and impossible to forget.
Thinking that Bree could be mother to one…
She sniffed. “I’m scared. If Druan doesn’t already know you’re awake, he will soon, and he’s going to come after us.”
Faelan reached for her again. “I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll destroy him if I have to.” Even if it meant his own death. His lips brushed her temple, then the side of her mouth. She made a soft sound that thickened his blood, and she moved her lips to meet his.
“What you do to me,” he whispered against her lips and then eased his tongue inside. Her hand, already resting on his thigh, brushed his groin, and he remembered slipping inside her, the desperate ache, the warmth, the belonging. He put his hand over hers, pressing it harder against him, then moved to her breast. His body cried
“Panties,” she gasped, when he touched what lay beneath.
That hadn’t changed, but he didn’t remember it having this effect on him. The flicker of lights from an approaching car hit the windshield, breaking the spell. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick as he slid the lace back in place and smoothed down her skirt. Bree pulled her hand from his lap and settled back in the seat, her face flushed. He couldn’t do this to her again. Not without his ring on her finger.
And bound by clan rules as he was, that could never be.
***
“Fix your sleeve,” Bree whispered. “I can see blood—” She broke off as a gray-haired woman opened the door of the white Victorian bed and breakfast. “Mrs. Edwards? I called earlier. You’re holding two rooms for us.”
“You’re lucky,” Mrs. Edwards said. “This conference has every hotel filled. Some new-world-order thing. I had a few of them staying here, but they went to a friend’s house. Can’t say I’m sorry. They were strange. I have two guests besides the two of you, but they keep to themselves. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since they arrived. Haven’t seen the one at all. Where’s your luggage?”
“We didn’t bring any.”
Mrs. Edwards peered over the rim of her glasses with a look that made both Bree and Faelan blush.
