Demon Marked

out of school, arrested for heroin possession, all kinds of shit. Whether I was first in my class or expelled, none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered to Madelyn was Wells-Down, and so the only way to get back at her was by taking it.”

“And you did.”

“I did. And then I found out she was worse, that the business wasn’t enough. She has to be destroyed.”

“And that’s all you’ve done, all these years. What will you do when she’s dead?”

Nicholas blinked, then stared across the table at her with an expression she’d never seen on him . . . but she recognized what it was. He was at a loss. A complete loss, as if he’d never even considered the question before.

“I don’t know.” His lips twitched, as if in sudden humor. “Eat a slice of pizza, probably.”

Ash laughed, and his smile widened into a grin.

“Maybe two pieces,” he said. “And I’d run for thirty minutes instead of the full hour, do half as many sets.”

He could do zero, for all that Ash cared. “I’d still want to see you naked.”

“If you end up helping me slay Madelyn, I’ll shake my ass for you.”

“Naked ass.”

His eyes narrowed. “You drive a hard bargain, demon.”

“I do.” And she was relieved that despite the naked talk, Nicholas was still amused, still playing along, instead of putting distance between them. “Though I didn’t ask for Reticle yet. Will you begin working again afterward?”

“Probably. I enjoy it. Though with Madelyn gone, I’d probably focus on more speculation, less takeover.”

“Oh, speculation. I think I’d enjoy that, too.” Just as she enjoyed reading financial journals. Just as she surfed to the stock listings the moment she got onto a computer. “So if you ever decide that you don’t want to work anymore, you can pass the reins to me.”

“I see.” He sat back. “This is your plot, isn’t it?”

“Taking over your company and making you a ton of money? Eeeeevil.”

His laugh shook right through her chest, seemed to loosen pieces of her there. Was this how emotions deepened? They rattled everything apart, then rebuilt on a stronger foundation?

She didn’t know. She only knew that her emotions were growing all over inside her now, like climbing vines that rooted deep and twisted around every available surface. There was contentment, as she sat and watched him drip a small amount of venom into the birdshot and stir it around. A hint of surprise when she smelled the venom’s fragrance, sweet like a peach. And trepidation when she remembered that he’d said it affected demons.

“Does the venom work on Guardians?”

“No. That’s why we’ll also start working on your hand-to-hand, and I’ll teach what I know of fencing.”

Sword fighting? She really preferred her boomstick. No need to get near anyone, no chance of being cut into pieces.

Her doubt and fear must have shown in her expression. Nicholas glanced up, studied her for a long moment. “All right. We’ll work on a little hand-to-hand now—and start with what will probably benefit you the most: avoidance and getting away.”

She looked around the small room. “Here?”

“We won’t need a lot of space.” His chair scraped back as he stood. He held out his hand. “Come on.”

She could get up on her own, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to touch him. His fingers wrapped around hers, and he tugged Ash to her feet.

And let go.

That wasn’t enough. She clenched her fingers together, trying to hold on to the feel of him.

He faced her in the center of the room. “You’re a demon. That means you’re thousands of years old, if not older. You fought in a war with Heaven—and this will come back to you, just like remembering that security code.”

That made sense. That made a lot of sense. Her procedural memory was intact. If she’d ever known how to fight, she’d remember how.

Of course, she hadn’t remembered how to fight when the demon had attacked her.

Nicholas raised his fists—a classic boxer’s stance. She recognized that, at least. Maybe she wasn’t a lost cause, after all.

“Wait. What about the Rules? How can I block you if I’m not allowed to touch you?”

A flat, icy tension moved into his expression, and she remembered: He’d been waiting for this. You’ll say, “Oh, Nicholas! I wish I could touch you, but I have to follow the Rules!”—and moments after I give you permission, you’ll punch through my chest and rip my heart out.

“I won’t rip your heart out,” she promised.

Some of the ice melted. “All right. I’ll give you permission to block me, and to make a hit in return. A soft hit, by demon standards. Nothing that could seriously injure a man.”

Because a demon wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to hurt one, if he gave her permission. Ash couldn’t imagine it. And with her strength, it might be easy to make a mistake and hit too hard.

So she couldn’t make a mistake. She had to be careful.

“All right,” she agreed on a deep breath. “I’m ready. What are we doing first?”

“Just avoiding me. It’ll be easy for you—too easy, actually. But if you practice with someone slower, it’ll still be more natural for you to react quickly if it’s a demon or a Guardian.”

Building up her reflexes. “Okay. I’m ready then. Go for it.”

“Okay.”

But he didn’t throw a punch. He looked at her over his fists. His mouth firmed.

Silence hung in the air for a moment.

Then he whipped around, shoving his hands through his hair. “Jesus!”

“What?”

“Even knowing what you are, that you can cross the room in a blink . . .” He shook his head, turned back, raised his fists again. Still, he hesitated.

She supposed he wasn’t used to punching women. She liked him for that. “Are you going to dick around like this when you’re up against Madelyn?”

His eyes narrowed. “No. I do wish you could shape-shift, though.”

“To look like her? No, thanks. You’d probably lose control and kill me.”

“Hardly.” He smiled a little. “All right. Are you ready now?”

Ash didn’t point out that she hadn’t been the one delaying. She only nodded.

His fist snapped toward her face. Oh my God, so fast. Her heart leapt . . . and his fist all but stopped. So he was pulling back anyway, throwing a little practice punch. It moved toward her at only a fraction of an inch every second or two—and okay, that was ridiculous. A baby could avoid that. Hell, a baby would be an old man before it hit him.

She frowned at Nicholas, wondering if he was just joking with her now. But no, he stared at her, his eyes and expression almost frozen. And she couldn’t hear his heartbeat. She couldn’t hear her own heartbeat. What the hell?

Her mouth dropped open as she realized: It wasn’t that they had no heartbeats. They were between heartbeats. Either time had frozen . . . or her perception of it had really, really sped up.

Incredible. How long did it take to throw a punch? A second? Yet his fist had only traveled three-quarters of the distance between them. She could have run around the room several times before it would touch her. Maybe outside to the tree line and back. Was the clock frozen, too? She glanced at it. The second hand didn’t move. Maybe next time, she’d try to time everything.

Unless her perception was stuck this way now? Oh, God, she hoped not. Maybe it had just been an involuntary reaction, like a spurt of adrenaline into her system. A reflex, kicked into gear by instinct. If so, how long would it last? Would Nicholas be stuck like this for what felt like forever, or would Holy shit he was