Garrett pressed his temples, dropping to one knee.
The air filled with tension until oxygen held weight. His back trembled. What was going on?
Fear made his ears ring. His vision blurred.
His fangs dropped.
Gunfire shook the boat. Shit. If they sank, could he get out?
The boat pitched. Men screamed. Boots thumped on the stairs.
Reality swam out of focus. Had they somehow drugged him again? Explosions shattered his mind. His stomach lurched. Stumbling to the corner, he puked up the sandwich they’d fed him earlier.
The boat rocked, and he slammed into the bars. His shoulder cracked. Pain blurred his vision. He bit through his lip to keep from crying out.
Okay. Dropping to his knees in front of the wires, he struggled to focus. Uncle Conn had spent years teaching him about bombs and detonation. The multicolored wires spread out in every direction.
The room spun, and he coughed out a laugh. Damn, he needed to focus. Sticking his pinkie in his ear, he swirled it around. Nope. No blood. Why did his brain hurt so bad?
A high-pitched shriek ripped through the night. Were his people attacking? Boots thumped down the stairs, and the door flew open.
Fear nearly knocked him down. On the other side of the bars stood a demon. White hair, black eyes, plenty of silver medals on his right breast. A soldier.
Garrett snarled and rose to a fighting stance.
The demon smiled.
Brutal images of death flashed behind Garrett’s eyes. He staggered back, his stomach revolting again. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to focus and fight through the pain.
His nerves misfired, shrieking agony into his central nervous system. Blood dripped over his upper lip from his nose. Red hazed across his vision.
The demon drew a glowing green gun from a side holster.
Garrett settled his stance. If he was going to die, he was going to face the bastard shooting him.
The demon pointed the gun and fired at the lock. The door flew open.
Garrett backed away from the open doorway, measuring the demon’s arm span. They were about the same height, but the demon was much broader through the chest. For now. Give Garrett a century or two, and he’d take the guy.
“Walk on your own, and I’ll stop the pain, Kayrs,” the demon said, his mangled vocal cords marking him as a purebred.
The guy knew his name. The horrible images disappeared form Garrett’s mind. The pain ebbed to a low throb.
Demon or not, outside the bars was much better than inside, near the explosives. So he nodded. His hands shook, so he wiped them down his pants. He reached the doorway, and the demon flipped him around to zip-tie his wrists.
The cord cut into his flesh, and he bit back a snarl.
The demon leaned in, his breath heated. “Walk quietly, and I won’t explode your brain. Fuck with me, and you’ll never think clearly again.”
Garrett nodded again. The best place to attack would be topside, where he could jump into the ocean. “Where are we going?”
“My people have been looking for you. Let’s just say we have plans.” The demon shoved him toward the open doorway.
The thought of the hell his uncle Jase had gone through almost stopped Garrett from moving. His ears rang, and his heart raced into battle mode. God. What was he going to do?
Brenna frowned at the new configuration of the living room. “I’m not sure.”
Jase groaned and dropped into an overstuffed chair, eyeing his half-finished bowl of Chunky Monkey on the end table. “We’ve been moving furniture for two hours. The moon is high, the night is dark, and I’m finished.”
“You’re on your fifth bowl of ice cream. If nothing else, you need to burn calories.” With a snort, Brenna flounced past him. Well, she tried.
He shoved out a foot to trip her. Arms windmilling, she plummeted toward him, where he easily caught her. “Are you calling me fat?”
She righted herself, shoving against his chest. “If the tight jeans fit . . .”
His fingers instantly found her rib cage.
“Nooooo.” She struggled, giggling, fire dancing on her arms.
Whoa. He’d forgotten about the fire and stopped tickling her. “Relax, darlin’.”
She sucked in air, and the fire swished out. “I’d be so upset if we burned up our new furniture.”
Pleasure filled him at her use of the word
Delight filled her pretty eyes as she maneuvered to straddle him. “Last time we played in this room, I broke all of your windows.”
“Our windows.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
Playing hard to get, was she? He kept her gaze, slowly unbuttoning her shirt. Feminine knowledge filled her eyes and provided a natural challenge. Even so, he forced himself to go slow, to stay with the fun they’d had all afternoon. “I enjoyed shopping with you.”
A dimple flashed in her left cheek. “No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t even share your ice cream.”
“I did share.” He smoothed the shirt down her arms.
“Only the first cone.” She slid her hands along his chest, humming softly.
“Well, then.” Reaching for his spoon, he pressed it against her pink mouth. “I’ll share now.”
Her tongue flicked out at the melting ice cream, and he fought a groan. Even playful, his witch was beyond sexy. “Happy now?”
She licked her lips. “No.”
His cock flared to life and tried to punch through his jeans. “You’re a hard woman to please.”
“You should try harder.” Her lids half closed.
“I really should.” So he dumped the bowl over her chest.
She burst out laughing and glanced down at the Chunky Monkey covering her bra and skin. “You didn’t. That’s so cold.”
Yeah. Her pretty nipples had sprung right to attention. “My apologies.” He couldn’t help the grin. Was this what happiness felt like? He’d forgotten.
She dug both hands through his hair. “Clean up your mess, Kayrs.”
“Of course.” He leaned in and licked the ice cream from her skin. The woman tasted even better than the dessert. So sweet.
She breathed against him, her heart clamoring beneath his mouth. A nip of a fang shredded her bra. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he whispered, dipping to capture a nipple.
“Fair enough.” She shoved him away to rip his shirt over his chest. Her eyes softened, and her fingers glided along his scars. “You truly are a beautiful man.” Leaning forward, she kissed the jagged scar above his heart.
She’d done that once before, and he’d felt her touch to his soul. “I’m nowhere near beautiful, Bren.”
She leaned back and frowned. “You are missing something.”
What? He glanced down. “Huh?”
“Aye.” Clutching his shoulders, she shoved her torso into him and rubbed herself along his chest. Wetness instantly coated his skin. With a saucy grin, she leaned back. “Now who’s sticky?”
He glanced down at the mess on his chest. “You’re going to clean that up.”
“With pleasure.” She licked along his pecs and up his jawline to nip at his ear. Then her fingers dug into his ribs.
He jumped, unsettling her. She tickled harder. He chuckled, lifted her with one hand, and ripped off her jeans.
