Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Hack
Well, that escalated too fucking quickly, even for me.
Most circumstances don’t faze me because I’ve seen a lot of shit from all possible angles.
What happened tonight, however, is my fault on some level.
How the fuck did I miss that the professor was a kyn?
Instead of being so hyper focused on Sage, I should have investigated that strange smell coming off him, but I didn’t and that’s on me.
The key to surviving as long as I have is knowing when to retreat and regroup.
What happened at Sage’s apartment is going to change her forever and I need to be there to make sure it doesn’t destroy her. That’s why I’ve brought her here, to my home in Georgia. The retreat.
Now, for the regrouping.
My first thought at this point is that we need to find a way to contact Desdemon.
His sister, the princess, who happens to be a contender to the throne should anything happen to him, is missing.
No, worse than that, she’s been kidnapped while in our presence.
The thing about vampyres is that as aloof as they may seem on any given day, they are emotionally unstable—lethal, to be honest—when it comes to harming their own.
So, no matter how we deliver the news, someone’s going to get hurt or even killed for not protecting Danika with our lives.
Even if we did everything we could to fight off our enemies, the messenger will pay for our mistakes.
This means one of us will have to go. I refuse to put our kyn in harm’s way if we can help it.
“What was that? How are we here? Why the fuck did you bring me here, Hack? I need to be home in case Danika comes back. And who’s going to tell—”
She’s losing control, her mind fighting to understand the events of the last couple of hours.
The last twenty-four, to be sure. “I need to contact Dei Samhain so he can give us Desdemon’s location.
We’ll tell him. One of us will travel to The Shade and take the brunt of his ire. ” And it’s going to be painful.
“The brunt? What do you mean? Why would he be angry with us? Oh my god, is he going to drink my blood and leave me to die? Is this how I di—” I cut her off by cupping her head with my hands, my thumbs pressing against her cheekbones as my mouth collides with hers.
The move is meant to snap her out of this panic attack, to force her to focus so we can take a breath and plan out what’s next. However, my good intentions go to shit the exact moment our lips touch, and when she grants my tongue access, I forget everything except her.
Her taste.
Her choppy breaths.
Her thundering heartbeat.
Tilting her head an inch to the side gives me a better angle as my tongue sweeps inside her mouth and her moan reverberates right down to my cock.
This is not the time to be fucking turned on but…
it’s Aiyana. My chosen. Every bone and every cell in my body is attuned to her.
Even our souls are fated to recognize each other.
“Fuck.” I grunt my frustration as blunt teeth break the skin of my lower lip. It’s not the pain that makes me curse, I’m surprised I even feel it, it’s the fact Sage is now punching my chest and fighting her way out of my hold.
To say I’m reluctant to let her go doesn’t even come close to how I’m feeling. But this isn’t the time, although it’s the perfect place, for me to focus my attention on us.
Picking up my spelled phone that allows us to keep contact with our kyn realms, I can feel my lip healing as I press the call button for our Dei. Holding the phone to my ear, I watch Sage as she stares into nothing, seemingly calm for the moment, no doubt reliving the battle in her apartment.
“Dei, it’s Hack.”
“I’m old, but even I know what caller ID looks like.” Old is an understatement but now’s not the time for jokes.
“Right. We have an issue.” I pause before launching into everything that’s happened.
Starting with Sage being filled in on her predicament, the fact I’ve found my chosen and the shitshow that was the killing of a witch and the kidnapping of a princess vampyre.
By the time I’ve given him the gist of the situation, he’s sighing into the phone.
“Desdemon won’t be happy about this.” Again with the understatements.
“No, but we need to be the ones to tell him. Do you have any idea where we can find him?” He could be anywhere, from The Shade, to Velmore, where the vampyres reside in West Kohrye, to his home on Earth somewhere in France.
Hell, he could be out fucking a Spanish princess or getting a blowjob from an Italian mobster. The possibilities are endless.
“Let me see what I can do. I’ll put the feelers out to Dei Regina of the monsters, too, she may be able to gather some information on her lamia kyn. I’ll be in contact.” Dei Samhain ends the call without another word, which means until I hear back from him, I need to take care of Sage.
Problem is, she’s been so hostile with me that it’s difficult to know how I can help her.
Do I need to be supportive or should I go demon dom on her?
When my call ends, the struggle begins again with Sage trying to break free of my hold on her, as if she just remembered what’s happening, but I can’t say I hate the feel of her against me like this.
To be honest, at this point in our newly found relationship I’m contemplating locking her up in one of the many—too many—rooms in my house and waiting for her thirtieth birthday to come and go. What’s a few months when the possibility of eternity is just within our grasp?
“Ah fuck!” One of her punches lands remarkably close to my dick and I groan, and demon or no demon, that shit is painful.
“Good! I hope it hurts. Now let go of me, you brute!” Sage’s little tirade should piss me off. After all, I’m trying to protect her, trying to help her. Instead, it has the opposite effect.
“Oh, my little chosen, it takes a fuckload more than that to hurt me.” At least physically. On a mental and emotional level, however, she could annihilate me with just a few words.
“It’ll hurt when I find a chainsaw and separate your limbs from your body.” She backs away as she spits her venom at me, but behind her hatred, I can sense the agony of her loss.
“They’ll just grow back.” I shrug and she is not amused.
“Fuck off!”
I need to change tactics, give her some semblance of control.
Despite her being new to this world she belongs to, she’s been handling the curveballs better than most would in her shoes.
There isn’t a doubt in my mind that she can survive this tragic loss.
In fact, I’m betting she’ll use the pain to come out on top.
Taking a deep breath in, I close my eyes and rein in my composure, stabilize my blood pressure, and slow down my heart rate. I’ll always be her protector but maybe giving her the control she needs will reduce, even if just a little, her hatred for me.
“What do you want to do first?” With my hands on my hips, I congratulate myself for being so fucking cool and collected.
“Are you serious right now? That condescending shit isn’t going to work on me.” Then she repeats my words in a mocking voice and I swear to the Moirai I’m two taunts away from making good on my threat of locking her up. Maybe even handcuffing her to my bed. We’ll see how she likes that situation.
“Sage, I’m trying to be understanding here. Would you rather I make decisions without consulting you first?” My tone rises and with it, her spine stiffens.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I trampling on your ego trip?
And what the fuck does that even mean, consulting me first?
This is my life, Zelos. My fucking life.
And ever since you’ve stepped foot in it, I’ve lost the only mother figure I’ve ever had and my very best friend.
Hell, my only fucking friend. So excuse the fuck out of me if being consulted”—she makes air quotes with her fingers as her eyes shoot venomous spears at me—“feels like you’re placating me. ”
Narrowing my eyes at Sage, I realize two things.
First, every word that comes out of my mouth is going to get me in trouble, and second, she’s right.
This is her life and I am trying to placate her.
Even if it’s to protect her, she needs to be the main character in her story, her own hero, and that goes against every protective bone in my body and soul.
Ergo our staring match. She’s breathing like a beast out for blood and my chest is heaving like a dragon whose only job is to protect what’s his.
We’re at a stalemate and her hex is not doing us any fucking favors.
Time to demon up.
I don’t think and I don’t weigh the pros and cons about any fucking thing.
In two quick steps I’m bending at the waist—by a lot because my chosen is short as fuck—throwing her over my shoulder, and holding her down with one arm over her waist. Her tiny fists punch my lower back as she spits fire at me.
Well, if fire is just random cuss words that make no sense when strung together.
“Fucking shit of a motherfucking shithouse. Put me down, you ogre.”
“I’m a demon, Satapti. You know this.”
“You’re an asshole, I definitely know that!”
Taking the steps two by two, I’m tempted to slap her ass cheek so she calms down but then remember that I like her animated and feral like this.
By the time I reach my bedroom, she’s threatened every part of my body, including my balls in vivid fucking details.
“I regret getting my first orgasm from you.” I freeze, my satisfied smile breaking into a full-blown cocky grin.
“Is that so?” I want to see her face when she answers, so I flip her onto the huge Alaska size mattress and pin her with my stare. And vines, just in case she tries to escape.
“Yes, that is so. I regret—”
“No, no. Not that. I’m more interested in the two words ‘first’ and ‘orgasm’ put together to describe what I did for you.”