Chapter 23
When I woke up, consciousness came to me in gentle waves before I ever opened my eyes. I should have felt like I had been run over by a truck. Instead, I felt refreshed. Finally, the right type of beauty sleep.
Rolling over onto my side, I expected to meet a plush pillow. Instead, it was like rolling into a brick wall. One that had been baking in the sun all afternoon.
One eye cracked open, then the other.
Next to me, Ace lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his pillow, the other stretched out above mine.
Lifting my head, I propped myself up on an elbow.
Ace wasn’t sleeping. Eyes open, his gaze focused on me.
He looked smug as hell.
The pleasant soreness between my legs told the story of why. Bits and pieces of what had transpired played in loops inside my head. The memories felt more like a fever dream than reality. Had I imagined it?
My attention shifted to the top of Ace’s head, trying to imagine him in the way he came into creation. I wasn’t disillusioned by the charming veneer. The intensity that resided in him suggested something equally as commanding beyond his crafted exterior.
As for me, I had been born perfect. I’d sooner become a brunette attempting blonde box dye than mask the version of myself that had been brought into existence.
Not even for him.
Then again, all that distinguished me as a supernatural being in this realm existed on the inside. It just so happened that I graced everybody with perfect wrapping as well.
Even Ace couldn’t resist the temptation if the glimpses of what had happened in this bed held any truth. Assuming they did, I should be pissed. I should remind him that the mark on my thigh doesn’t entitle him to anything.
But the spiking energy inside me since we fucked eclipsed all anger. It spread faster than a flame through spilled kerosene. I felt him, the beknighted hellfire and unholy strength he’d imbued me with, leaving char marks in my bones, smoke in my lungs, and consuming my existence.
Complete intoxication of his power.
“Feeling better,” he rumbled, not looking away from me.
I huffed, rolling my eyes. “None of your business.” Though the response came out with less bite than intended, I did feel better, but I wasn’t about to credit him with my good mood.
He smirked. “I wasn’t asking.”
Asshole.
Shifting, I forced myself to sit up. The silk sheets pooled around my waist. My fingers worked through my hair, smoothing it out from the tangled mess it had become while I napped.
As I wrangled my tresses, my eyes drifted back to him despite my best efforts to appear unaffected by his presence.
He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, and as my eyes drifted lower, I felt a pang of disappointment.
A slim strip of dark fabric low on his hips peeked out from underneath the edge of the sheet.
Underwear. The only thing decent about him.
Go figure.
Feeling restless, I couldn’t stay in bed a moment longer with him staring at me like he was waiting for the second coming—or third, or fourth.
Casting the sheet aside, I scooted to the other side of my bed and ignored the fact that I was naked from the waist down as I strode to the bathroom.
I could feel Ace’s stare following the sway of my hips, the possessive press of his desire and insatiable hunger.
“Don’t take too long. We have company coming,” Ace said from his place on my bed.
Pausing in the threshold of the bathroom, I placed a hand on the edge of the doorframe and turned to look at him with a curious tilt of my head.
“Company?”
He nodded and discarded the sheets from his lower body. The movement was fluid and, dare I say, graceful as he got out of bed.
Drawing out his response to my question, he stretched his arms high above his head, rocking forward onto the balls of his feet. The pull on his body elongated the muscles, accentuating each line and curve.
It also exposed more of the tapered V that cut in sharply, the lines dipping into boxer briefs that suddenly looked too inadequate for what filled them.
My mouth went dry.
I suffered a momentary lapse in brain activity until his voice yanked my thoughts back online.
“Genevieve. Eyes. Here.” He used two fingers to gesture at his eyeballs first, then dropped his hand to cup himself, giving an obscene squeeze. “Not here.”
He knew exactly what the hell he was doing. Goddamn cheater.
I echoed the sentiment right back at him, mocking his attempt to throw me off-kilter.
“Barnabel. Eyes. Here.” My pointer and middle fingers sharply pointed at my crystalline blue eyes.
Dropping my hand back down at my side, I turned to retreat fully into the bathroom. In a gesture of bratty defiance, I popped up both middle fingers, crossing them into an X in front of my bare ass.
“Not here.”
The door shut behind me, denying him any further viewing privileges.
That afternoon, Ace sat on the sofa in the living room of his penthouse, one ankle propped on top of his knee and a hand on his ankle. He looked every bit the image of playboy nonchalance while I stood in front of him, Val circling me like a vulture.
Every low “hmm” that accompanied the Drakyn’s scrutinizing looks grated on my nerves further.
What was he looking for? A flaw? A hidden weakness?
Or maybe he was secretly admiring my fashionable style.
The casual look Iggy had pulled together screamed “runway fashion meets weekend comfort”.
A sleeveless cream sweater with dark-wash jeans had an understated elegance and enhanced the brighter tones of red in my hair.
My arms were crossed tightly over my chest, hip cocked out to one side.
“You’ve been studying me for twenty minutes, and that’s all you have to say? A few grunts of acknowledgement and a word or two of clinical observation?”
Call me crazy, but after Valphyr’s last visit, I didn’t exactly trust I wouldn’t end up in some fucked up alternate reality.
Could you imagine it? A fucked-up variation of Wonderland when we already lived in Superbia? Oh wait, the humans called that Topeka, Kansas.
Nothing happened there other than overpriced coffee, highways, and far too many pairs of khakis. Make it make sense as to why mortal brains found it profound and fascinating.
Totally illogical.
“Patience, Little Spade,” Ace spoke in a tone attempting to placate me.
It didn’t.
“Oh, c’mon! I’ve been standing here for an eternity for several hums-and-haws.” I tipped my head back to look up at the vaulted ceiling, releasing an exaggerated groan of dramatic intolerance.
Ace sounded unsympathetic. “It’s been four and a half minutes, Eve.”
Dropping my head back down, I pinned him with a glaring look that spoke volumes of exactly how unimpressed I was with his correction.
Before I could write off this entire visit as a waste of time, Val stepped in front of me, cutting off direct line of sight to the Knight of Hell with a time fetish.
“Miss Bechette, I understand your frustration. A few more moments of your cooperation and—”
I didn’t let him finish. My temper flared up, exploding out of me like a volcanic eruption.
“No! No more!” I snapped while stomping my foot to emphasize my intolerance for another moment.
Except it wasn’t just a childish stomp of my foot.
My vision flashed red—not figuratively speaking. The whole living room was bathed in an eerie scarlet glow. Lines broke out across the skin on my arms, looking like my flesh had cracked to expose lines of lava underneath.
The heat blasted throughout my body but didn’t stay contained.
A stormy gust of energy ripped from my pores.
The force of it sent the mail on the console table by the front door scattering to the floor, shook leaves of a nearby potted plant loose from their stems, and even managed to dislodge a couple of strands of Ace’s hair out of place.
Neither man moved in the damning silence after my outburst.
Just as quickly as the world had turned scalding, the crimson receded until the world returned to more muted tones.
I looked down at my arms. The fissures that had been ablaze seconds ago appeared to cool until they disappeared entirely, as if they had never existed in the first place.
In its wake remained a trembling in my limbs, hands shaky and knees unsteady.
Looking past Valphyr at Ace, the expression on his face was not what I expected.
He wasn’t angry, shocked, scared, or disturbed.
I felt all those things.
Instead, Ace looked… proud?
With unhurried movements, his hand smoothed the few unruly strands into place before standing from the sofa. His towering figure claimed the space in front of me, his hands landing on my shoulders.
A firm squeeze and a smile. Not a lecture or sneer.
His hands slid towards my neck and up until he held my head just below my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.
“That, Little Spade, was the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve seen in all my years.”
The praise curled through my chest, tightening into something complex that I didn’t quite understand.
Continuing, he leaned down until our faces were only a breath’s hair away. “Seeing my power flow through you tells me you were always destined to be mine.”
My breath hitched in my throat at the idea of wielding Ace’s powers. Trying to wrap my mind around it seemed an impossible concept.
Val stepped up beside us, clearing his throat. He didn’t appear to share the same enthusiasm as Ace did. He looked far more somber.
“Touching moments aside, I believe we need to address what just happened before things unravel beyond control.”
A muscle in Ace’s jaw feathered with tension—irritation at the interruption—if the sharp look was anything to go by.
His hands fell away from me, backing up a step to put some space between us, though the tension in his frame suggested it was a temporary concession.
To the contrary, Val seemed weary. He pulled a pair of thin-framed spectacles from the inside pocket of his sports blazer. Sliding them into place, he lifted his chin as he gave me another once-over.
“Right then,” he finally said, as though he'd already resigned himself to whatever he was about to say.
Settling into a loose stance with his hands clasped in front of him, he looked at Ace.
“Shall I say it now or put it in another email?”
Ace scoffed in minor indignation.
“You weren’t right, Valphyr. Not about all of it.”
“Oh? Let’s see, I recall telling you to refrain from inflicting stress on her precognitive pathways. Told you to be cautious unless you wanted to brace for Armageddon.” A surprising thread of subdued frustration wove through his words, more than I thought him capable of.
He gestured at me broadly. “Welcome to Armageddon.”
All this was news to me. My eyes darted between them while they spoke about me as if I weren’t even there, like I was some specimen under a microscope to be dissected.
No immediate response from Ace. The lack of denial became the confirmation.
I cackled. The sharp laughter pierced the air, born of hysteria and disbelief.
“Armageddon? Armageddon?” I repeated.
The diplomatic energy returned to Val as he addressed me. “Miss Bechette, I meant no offense.”
To no one’s surprise, Ace didn’t bother backpedaling from the conversation at hand. He cut straight to the core, voice like a blade carving down to the truth.
“What is she?”
He asked a simple question, but nothing prepared me for how the answer was anything but.
The Drakyn hybrid looked like he was on the verge of suffering a migraine of epic proportions. His fingers pushed his glasses up further on his nose, massaging the space between his eyes.
After kneading away enough of the stress, he readjusted his glasses with a heavy sigh.
“Based on preliminary observations prior to the presentation of Miss Bechette’s current state, and taking into account recent events, I have good reason to believe she is a rare subclass of succubus.
Energy and abilities are reliant on engaging in activities of a…
carnal nature. However, the complexity of her designation lies within the exchange itself. ”
It sounded like a lot of big words for a whole lot of bullshit. I balked at the idea of being labeled a succubus. I had crossed paths with one or two before. They were hoes in handbaskets, useless tools except when digging in the dirt.
Of course Ace didn’t seem perturbed by the idea at all. Given the contemplative look on his face, he actually seemed to give the idea merit.
“How rare is she?” he asked as though I were some precious gem.
Not wrong, but infuriating in context.
I shot Ace an offended look. “What type of question is that?”
“A necessary one,” he responded smoothly.
Never in my history had I rolled my eyes harder.
Valphyr ignored our volleying and provided more insight.
“Rare enough that my people have only ever heard of one or two founding bloodlines that carry the gene. Miss Bechette is what we call an echo variant entity.”
Echo. Variant. Entity.
E.V.E.
Catchy and surprisingly classy.