Chapter 26
Deejay
“Deejay!”
Robbie’s panicked voice causes me to jump out of my chair in the den.
I run through the house, finding him at the entryway with a man supporting Matt, who’s barely conscious and so fucking bloody my stomach churns at the sight. “What happened?”
I demand, taking up Matt’s other arm and helping the man take him to the futon in the living room, which Robbie lowers in a hurry.
“Fucking Loretta put a Demon marked for death in the Cage after the civilian fights. She used him as the Headsman instead of Loki, who wasn’t fucking there to stop her,”
the stranger says, making me realize he must be Chanda Marduke. “The Demon got his claws into him, and I didn’t want to stick around to see what else Loretta might pull.”
“Robbie, get the salve, two jars from my bathroom,”
I order the kid as I quickly assess the damage. They’ve staunched the bleeding with gauze bullets into five puncture wounds, but they’re soaked through and seeping now. The gashes on his back stain the futon beneath him and it looks like one of his eyes might have gotten caught by claws, but it’s hard to tell beneath the swelling. There’s a lot of smaller damage all over him, but the most critical to take care of are the gashes and punctures.
Robbie slides to my side, opening a jar with shaking hands and holds it to me. I dip out a significant dollop of the salve and pull one of the gauze bullets out before shoving my finger into the wound. Matt groans in pain at the intrusion. “Sorry,”
I whisper as I do it again for the next one.
His pained moans give me a sick feeling, but I make it through each wound then turn him over and spread the salve over the gashes that have cut to the bone from his left shoulder down to his right thigh. When the bleeding stops, I turn him back over and start applying the salve to his face, dipping some into his eye just in case. By the time I’m done, I’ve gone through both jars and part of a third one Robbie grabbed just in case.
I sit back on my heels, staring at Matt as my mind reels. “Loretta did this to him?”
I question as I finally allow myself to feel the anger quietly brewing beneath the surface of my forced calm.
“She did,”
Chanda confirms with as much menace as I feel.
“She will live to regret this,”
I growl, looking the man in the eye. Everyone knows that I protect my family absolutely. Everyone who matters, that is. Loretta knows better than most since she’s part of the reason I’m the ruler of this demesne. The woman was there when I earned my title. Just what the fuck is she thinking? She knows someone is targeting Matt and she still did this to him?
He purses his lips. “Deejay, you do not want to go to war with that woman. Let me handle this for now. What she did was wrong, but there’s more going on here than you or I know. She wouldn’t put a Demon in the Cage with him without a reason. Let me figure out what she’s doing before you do something that will cost you more than just a few jars of salve.”
“Loretta knows I don’t let anyone hurt what belongs to me. Matt is mine. She knows to expect my wrath.”
“Exactly. She’s expecting it, and she will use anything you do in revenge as ammunition against you. Give it three days. Let me do what I can. Matt can seek reparations since she violated the contract she requires everyone to sign before entering into the Cage fights. Just give me time to find out what the hell she is doing.”
I don’t know this man. I know nothing about him except what I’ve heard through the non-human gossip mill, but I know his reputation. He wouldn’t tell me three days if he didn’t know I needed to take them. “Is this the Diviner talking or the man?”
He levels me with a hard look, narrowing his hazel brown eyes at me. “There is no difference for me. I am always listening to the wind of Fate.”
I nod. “Three days.”
Then I will make sure she remembers the dangers of messing with the Maledict’s family.
He takes a deep breath and lets out slowly. “I have to get back there. I will call you.”
He stands up and beckons Robbie. “Walk me out,”
he tells him.
Robbie jumps to his feet and the two walk out, leaving me with Matt, whose wounds look better every second.
I see with relief, looking into his now-open obsidian eyes.
“Thirsty?”
I ask—he lost a lot of blood.
“Yeah,”
he rasps as he attempts to sit up.
“Stay down; I’ll get you a drink,”
I urge him, pushing him back down.
He acquiesces, so I run to the kitchen to grab him a bottle of a sports drink. When I get back, he’s sitting, propped up by the futon that he’s pulled up. “Fucker,”
I accuse him gently, handing him the open bottle.
He drinks down most of the bottle in one breath before wiping his lips and tossing a half-smile at me. “I feel much better, though fuck that Demon blood. I feel like a detoxing addict.”
He holds up his trembling hand.
“That’s pretty much what’s happening right now,”
I agree. Demon blood causes immediate withdrawal symptoms as soon as the donating Demon dies. Very few non-humans can handle the after-effects more than once. “It’ll be better by morning.”
He nods, finishes his bottle, and then his entire being just goes blank. “I killed a person,”
he confesses in monotone.
“You did,”
I confirm, sitting next to him. I pull his hand into my lap, threading our fingers together to give him something solid to hold on to. “Acting as the Headsman, you killed a Demon, which means that the death doesn’t fall on your soul. It belongs to the non-human justice system, and the responsibility for using you falls on Loretta. You are in no way responsible for that death.”
“I ripped him apart with my bare hands,”
he says, trying to pull his hand away from me, but I hold on. It’s still covered in the remains of his fights like the rest of him. Blood spatter and smears cover his entire body. The need to erase this evidence before he realizes just how bad it is wells up in me.
“Come on.”
I stand up and pull him to his feet.
He lets me keep his hand as I lead him up to my bathroom. I keep his back to the mirror as I start the shower, then pull off my clothes, considering my nudity an acceptable distraction from the shit he’s gone through tonight, if it will distract him. I hope it does. He arrived completely naked, so I pull him into the shower with me, closing the sliding glass door behind us.
“Close your eyes,”
I tell him as I pull the shower wand off the cradle and start wetting him down.
I take my time washing his hair and body, letting the red rivulets that flow off him run until the water clears completely. When I replace the wand, Matt looks down at me as he pulls me flush to him. An actual fire ignites in his eyes, a residual effect of the Demon blood, as he pushes me against the cool tile and lifts, pulling my legs around his hips. His lips crash down on mine, needy and desperate, as his tongue invades my mouth, knocking me completely senseless with his passionate assault.
I can feel his cock harden and spring into the cradle of my ass cleft. He pulls back from the kiss momentarily. “Hold tight,”
he instructs me, voice rough and deep, vibrating through me.
I tighten my grip on him as he reaches for the conditioner and pumps some into his hand. For a moment, I am genuinely nervous until he swipes it over his cock as he slides his hand under me, holding me tight and trapping his cock against me, then with the other hand, he reaches for another pump of—shampoo this time. He uses that hand to stroke my cock in one long, slow, sensual caress, eliciting a grasp of pleasure from me that he takes advantage of, pushing his tongue back into my mouth in the most exciting way.
He strokes me with quick flicks of his wrist as he piston his hips into me, rubbing against my hole, inducing pleasure that has me gasping for more. I moan in his mouth, balls drawing up in preparation. In what feels like no time at all, my orgasm shoots through me. He strokes me in time with his thrusts until the last shudder wracks through me then he stiffens and groans in the sexiest possible note I have ever heard—deep, resounding, gorgeous. His voice causes another shudder to run through me followed by another unexpected orgasm that makes me keen with a mix of pleasure and pain. He swallows my sounds with his kiss until we’re both out of breath and in need of air, then he leans his forehead against mine.
“Fuck,”
he whispers.
“Agree.”