Chapter Eight
It was all Jedda could do to not erupt in a
full-blown panic attack. And gem elf panic attacks were messy. Sort of an
explosion of fine diamond dust poofing all around her
in a massive, choking cloud. And that shit got everywhere and into everything.
The last time she’d had a panic attack, the abrasive particles had clogged her
vacuum cleaner’s air filter and scratched her glass coffee table.
Slowly, so she wouldn’t arouse suspicion, she lowered her
stiff legs, allowing Razr to slip from her body.
He was still hard. Could he go again? Because she could. Over and over.
That had been the best sex she’d had since...well, ever, the
intensity and abruptness making it all the more
intoxicating. His complete dominance of her,
immobilizing her so she was helpless to do anything but surrender to his touch,
had been unexpected, exciting, and something her human partners had never done.
She was still a little dizzy as she pushed away from him and
grabbed a silk robe from the closet. Peridot green, of course.
“Look,” she said, sounding like she’d just gotten up after a
wild night of partying and not enough sleep, “I don’t know why these gemstones
are suddenly on the radar, but you heard me tell Shrike that I can’t find them.
And even if I could find them, I’d have to give them to him or that Lothar
curse is going to make my life a living hell.”
Gods, what was she going to do? Breaking the curse, if it
was even possible, would buy her some time, but given that Shrike had sent a
goon to watch her, she didn’t think she’d get that much more time.
And really, why were the stones in demand after decades of
obscurity? Both her gem and Reina’s were safely ensconced in the most secure
vault in the universe, and it wasn’t like the dhampires
gave tours of the facility for people to see what was inside. She
couldn’t even get inside, and she was a client.
Something must have happened with
her sister. But what? Was she in trouble? Had she told someone about the gems?
Was she dead?
An ache of despair centered in her gut at the thought, but
no, she’d have felt her sister die, just as she’d felt it when Manda took her
last breath. But still, something might be terribly wrong.
Razr watched her, his thickly-muscled
body still bare, his skin coated in a fine sheen of sweat, his impressive
length glistening with her arousal. Even though she’d just had the most amazing
orgasm ever, she still felt a swell of desire expand between her legs,
diminished only by the sobering subject at hand.
Two fallen angels wanted the one thing she couldn’t give up.
Razr scrubbed a hand over his face as if trying to scour
away the disappointment in his expression.
“We’ll figure something out. Shrike is an overconfident
douchebag, and I have faith that you can produce at least one of the gems.” He
gestured to the bathroom. “Mind if I use your shower?”
Relieved to put this off, even for just half an hour, she
nodded. “Towels are in the cupboard by the sink, and there are some
travel-sized toiletries like toothbrushes and soaps in the drawer beneath the
towels. There’s a steam feature in the shower too—might help if your back still
hurts. Take your time.” Hopefully he’d take a lot of time, because she needed
to figure a way out of this mess. “I’ll make some lunch if you’re hungry.”
His naughty smile nearly made her already shaky knees
threaten to collapse. “I’m starving,” he said in a low, husky voice. “That
little taste of you wasn’t nearly enough.”
When he turned to walk away from her, the flex of the
muscles in his ass and legs pushed her over the edge, and she sank into the
bedside chair to collect herself for a moment. How could she be so attracted to
someone she barely knew, at a time when her life was in danger?
Groaning, she buried her face in her hands. What the hell
had she done? How much trouble was she in? One fallen angel seemed bent on
torturing her until she gave him what he wanted, and the other seemed
determined to seduce her into giving him what he wanted.
Not that she could. But what a way to go.
She wallowed in self-pity until she heard the water turn on,
and then she went to the guest bathroom to clean up and dress in an azure
sweatshirt and jeans before checking to see if Shrike’s minion was still
outside. He was, but he was smart enough to be hanging out on the other side of
the street. People walked past him as if he wasn’t there, and she figured he
was using whatever trick it was some demons used to make themselves invisible
or unnoticeable to humans.
Shit, she was screwed.
Muttering obscenities in both English and Elvish, she threw
together a quick version of her favorite shepherd’s pie recipe and Yorkshire
puddings. Although Jedda had grown up in France, her mother had been a fan of
British food, and Jedda liked to recreate her mother’s dishes now and then,
even if she had to eat them all by herself.
Sometimes she invited her employees to dinner, six humans whom she considered friends
but who didn’t know the truth about her. But for the most part, when she cooked she did so for herself.
While she prepared the meal, she considered her options. She
had to look for the crystal horn Shrike wanted, for sure. But clearly, she
couldn’t give up the gem that had become part of her body and soul. She
wouldn’t give up her sister or her stone, either.
She did, however, need to find Reina.
As the food cooked, filling her flat with the savory, warm
scent of beef, she peeked out the window again. Ooh, new goon. Shift change,
she supposed.
“Something interesting out there?” Razr’s deep voice, coming
from down the hall, made her shiver.
“Not interesting,” she said as he stepped up next to her,
dressed in his clothes from last night. The male could definitely
fill out a suit. “Annoying. Shrike sent some creep to keep an eye on
me.”
Razr yanked the curtain aside with a growl. Menace billowed off him, and for a moment she thought he’d go right through
the window. “Stay here.”
“What?” She tried to stop him as he threw open the front
door. “No, wait!”
He didn’t stop until he was nose to
nose with the demon across the street. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but
she could see it getting heated, with Razr backing the guy up against a light
post. A few seconds later, the demon scurried away in the direction of the
nearest Harrowgate.
“What did you say to him?” she asked when Razr came back
inside.
“I introduced him to a few of my friends.”
She frowned. “What friends? I didn’t see anyone.”
It was his turn to frown at her. “You didn’t see the griminions?”
The oven timer went off, and she started toward the kitchen.
“What are griminions?”
“Seriously?” His heavy footsteps followed behind her. “I
mean, I know not every demon knows what a griminion
is, but you didn’t even see them? Creepy little
short dudes in robes? Glowing eyes, claws for hands...”—he held his hand
at just below groin level—“...about yea high?”
“I told you, I’m not a demon. And no, I did not see any griminions, and from the sound of them, I’m glad I
didn’t.” She eyed him askance. “You say they’re your friends?”
“Well, not friends, exactly. More like coworkers. They were
in the area.”
She was about to ask what their job was and who Razr worked
for when the oven timer went off again and the phone rang simultaneously.
“Do you mind getting the food out of the oven while I get
the phone?” she asked him. “I’ll just be a minute.”
It was Sylvia from her shop with a question regarding the
pricing of a couple of rare stones from Australia. By the time Jedda worked out
the kinks and got off the phone, Razr had set the table and dished up.
“This looks amazing,” he said as they dug in. After a bite,
he made a sound of ecstasy that had her remembering what they’d done in the
bedroom. “It is amazing.”
“It’s nothing special.” She shrugged, outwardly nonchalant,
but inside, her heart did a little happy dance at the compliment. “Do you cook?”
“Nah.” He reached for a Yorkshire pudding. “I mostly eat
cafeteria food.”
Cafeteria food? She studied him, realizing she knew
absolutely nothing about him. She’d brought him home, cared for him, slept with
him, fed him...and he was a complete mystery.
If this were a movie, it would either be a fun romantic
comedy or the setup for a slasher film. She swallowed
dryly and got up to fetch something to drink, taking note of the knives next to
the stove. As if they’d be any help if he decided to chop her up. The weapons
he wore on his body made a mockery of her little cooking knives.
Not to mention that he was a fallen angel, probably capable
of melting her in her socks.
She fetched a couple of sparkling waters from the fridge and
sat down. “So why is it that you eat a lot of cafeteria food?”
Razr took a break from shoveling down shepherd’s pie to
unscrew the top off his bottle of water. “I live on sort of a campus. It’s a
training facility for a special kind of angel called Memitim.”
She must have looked as confused as she felt, because he added, “Memitim are basically earthbound human guardians. They have to earn their way into Heaven.”
“Oh. Well, that must suck. Are you––were you––one
of these Memitim?”
He shook his head. “I was born in Heaven, a full-fledged
angel. Right now I’m helping to train the Memitim.”
Jedda gave herself a moment to process that. She’d really never given the Heavenly realm much thought, and it
had certainly never occurred to her that there would be more than one kind of
angel, let alone earthbound ones.
“You know, you’re not what I would have expected from a
fallen angel.”
“Yeah?” He paused with the mouth of the water bottle near
his lips. “What did you expect?”
“Shrike.” She spread her napkin in her lap. “I mean, other
than you, he’s the only fallen angel I’ve ever met. He’s what I would have
expected. You don’t seem as...damaged.”
“I’m...not sure how to respond to that.” He smiled, his