The Sweetest Burn

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Yeah, I thought, dragging my gaze away from his physique, that might do it. Since I’d never admit that out loud, I said, “Why did you want me to come out? Is it what I said to Jasmine?”

His smile faded. “No, but now that you mention it, that did piss me off. I don’t care what your sister thinks of me, but you shouldn’t lie about what you feel, and we both know our lineage has nothing to do with what’s between us.”

Feel, not felt. His deliberate use of the present tense told me that he wasn’t buying my being over him. The problem was, I was starting to doubt whether or not I was myself.

“Tell that to every Archon and demon alive,” I muttered, mentally kicking myself for bringing the subject up. I should just keep a piece of tape handy so I could slap it over my mouth every time I had the urge to say something reckless.

“I don’t care what they think, either,” Adrian said silkily, closing the distance between us.

I backed away, holding out my hands to ward him off. “Don’t. If this is why you called me out here, I’m leaving.”

Hard assessment filled his features, as if judging whether I meant that, but he stopped. “It’s not why, but it’s been so long since I’ve been near you that I can’t help it. Don’t say you haven’t missed me, too, or I’ll know that you’re lying.”

“Really? How will you know that?” I said, deciding that I’d much rather challenge him than admit to it.

He came close enough to brush my hair away from my neck, and I told myself it was the night air hitting my skin that made me shiver. His fingers trailed over my neck, lingering on the spot where it felt like my heart was trying to escape through my jugular.

“Because when you lie, your pulse pounds even harder.”

I moved away. Damn the memories that had come flooding back at his touch, taunting me with how his hands had felt when they’d explored other parts of my body.

“You’re wearing the necklace.” The masculine satisfaction in his voice scattered more shivers over me. I closed my hand over the pendant, as if concealing it made that any less true.

“With its history, I couldn’t risk Brutus losing it,” I said defensively.

Adrian laughed, but the knowing sound was nothing compared to the intensity in his gaze. “This time, I don’t even have to look at your pulse to know you’re lying.”

What was I going to say? That some crazed part of me had been so touched by Adrian giving me a priceless stone from his childhood that I’d put the necklace on right before I went to bed? I hadn’t thought that anyone would see my momentary act of weakness, yet since I’d forgotten to take it off before I went outside, now it was being used against me.

Brutus interrupted the moment by hopping off the crypt and stretching out his wings to their full extension. Then he chuffed at Adrian as if to say, Hey, pal, remember me?

Adrian threw a rueful look at the gargoyle. “You’re anxious to get started, I know, but your timing sucks.”

I actually loved the gargoyle’s timing. In fact, the next hunk of raw pot-roast meat I came across had Brutus’s name written all over it. Then I looked more closely at the gargoyle, noticing that he had something around his neck, too.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing.

Adrian cast one more look at the diamond in my cleavage. Then he walked over to Brutus and fingered the straps.

“It’s why I called you out here. You’re about to have your first flying lesson.”

CHAPTER SEVEN (#u48afa9c7-b74b-5e17-b7e5-5036678b5d86)

I KNEW MY ears weren’t malfunctioning, yet I still repeated his statement as if I’d misheard him. “Flying lesson?” Are you serious? my mind added in a screech.

He patted Brutus, murmuring to him in Demonish before he answered me. “I’ve had Brutus since right after he was born. He was so small, I could carry him around like a baby, and he broke every fragile object in my house when he was learning to fly.”

The mental image of baby Brutus learning how to fly was adorable, but it didn’t quell my apprehension. “But I don’t want to learn how to ride Brutus when he flies.”

The half smile that had curled Adrian’s mouth while he reminisced about Brutus vanished. “You remember why I had to leave you when we rescued Jasmine from the Bennington realm?”

“Yes,” I said hoarsely, fighting the memories from that day, but the most painful one came, anyway.

Adrian grasped my head, his silver-sapphire gaze almost burning into mine. “He can’t fly with all of us, and I’m the heaviest. Brutus’ll take you to the B and B, then you need to cross through the gateway.”

I was appalled. “Adrian, you can’t—”

He pulled my head down, his mouth searing mine in a kiss that matched the blazing intensity in his eyes. Desperation, desire and despair seemed to pour from him into me, but when he lifted his head, he was smiling.

“I love you, Ivy. I love you, and I didn’t betray you. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can do anything.”

Then he stuffed the slingshot into my pocket, slapped the gargoyle on his side and yelled, “Tarate!” Those mighty wings began to beat at once, flying Jasmine and me away while leaving Adrian to face a horde of minions alone...

His stare crashed through the memory and compelled me not to look away. “I don’t regret staying behind to make sure that you and Jasmine made it out, but if a similar situation happens again, I want us all to be able to escape. That’s why I’ve spent the past couple months learning how to ride Brutus when he’s flying, and why I trained him to strengthen his wings so that he can fly while carrying very heavy loads.”

I had to look away and blink several times to clear the sudden blurriness in my vision. “That’s...that’s smart.”

And brave, ballsy, thoughtful and so many other things I didn’t dare say out loud. I’d spent the past two months trying to convince myself that I felt nothing for Adrian. He’d spent that time thinking up new ways to protect me and Jasmine, and while it didn’t make up for everything that had happened, it did leave a dent in my heart.

He shrugged, although the intensity didn’t leave his gaze. “The bus has its perks, but speed isn’t one of them. That makes it terrible for getaways if we come under attack. Brutus has speed, maneuverability, and his hide is so thick, minions would need a rocket launcher to bring him down.”

Brutus chuffed, lifting his head a notch higher. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he understood every word because then he fluffed out his wings as though he were preening.

“You’re all that and a bag of badass,” I told him, smiling when he chuffed again as if in agreement. Then I returned my attention to Adrian. “I get why you wanted to learn how to ride him, but why do you want me to?”

Adrian fingered the straps around Brutus’s neck, which I now realized was a harness. “It takes strength and concentration. If I were injured, I wouldn’t be able to do it, and Brutus maxes out at carrying three people in his arms.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t like heights and I hadn’t even been good at horseback riding the few times I’d tried it. The thought of trying to ride on a flying gargoyle’s back made my stomach roil, but the thought of Adrian being left behind again was a thousand times worse. I’d rather puke my guts out than risk that. Hell, I’d rather die, but I’d keep that to myself.

“Okay,” I said, forcing a smile as I approached Brutus. “Let’s get the flying lesson started.”

* * *

“AGAIN!” ADRIAN SAID, followed by a command of “Tarate!” to Brutus. The gargoyle vaulted us upward like he was a reptilian version of a roller coaster.

I slammed back against Adrian, forgetting to hold on to the reins again. Only Adrian’s hold on them, plus his thighs gripping Brutus, kept us from falling as Brutus’s torque made my stomach feel like it bashed into my spine. The rush of wind turned my hair into tiny whips, and when Brutus propelled us higher with another powerful flap of his wings, my guts left my spine to plummet downward like a free-falling elevator.

The fact that I hadn’t thrown up yet was a miracle.

“Hold the reins,” Adrian ordered, pushing them into my hands. I grasped them and held on because refusing and begging for this to stop wouldn’t help. I’d learned that the first time.

Brutus tilted his massive head to glance back at me, as if he could feel that the reins had changed hands. Then he dipped slightly, angling his body downward and to the right. The shift tore a scream from me and it was all I could do not to drop them while grabbing wildly for the sturdier base of his wings. How had Adrian ever mastered this alone? If he hadn’t insisted on staying behind me, I would’ve fallen off a dozen times over.

“You’re doing better,” Adrian said, putting his mouth closer to my ear so he didn’t have to yell.

“Liar!” was my instant response. He chuckled.

“I told you, no more lies. Now, try looking straight ahead, it’ll help with the nausea. Then, try to steer Brutus.”

I opened my eyes into mere slits, wishing I’d worn the goggles Adrian had offered me. He’d insisted on giving me his jacket, which I’d thought was his excuse to show more skin, but now, I was grateful that he hadn’t taken no for an answer on that. March in the Florida panhandle was cooler than expected, or maybe I’d gotten too used to Miami’s perpetual heat. Either way, my fingers felt stiff from the cold, and it might take weeks for the feeling to return to my toes. Between Adrian covering my back and legs and Brutus’s large form blocking the wind from my front, the rest of me was warm enough, at least.

The few times I’d previously opened my eyes, I’d looked down out of a masochistic need to see how high we were. Answer: high. Now, I took Adrian’s advice and looked straight ahead.

At first, I couldn’t see much. There were lights, but they were faint, like indistinct stars. After a few hard blinks to clear wind-induced tears, I was able to see more clearly, and another few minutes of concentration later, I realized that Adrian was right. With Brutus flying relatively parallel to the ground and me staring straight ahead, the urge to puke faded.

“Steer him,” Adrian urged, touching my arm for emphasis.

I pulled the reins a little to the right. Brutus didn’t alter course. I pulled harder and the gargoyle turned, dipping down at the same time. Immediately, I yanked up, and Brutus responded by increasing velocity and torpedoing straight upward.

“Level him out, Ivy!” Adrian yelled, molding his body tighter around mine.

Through my instinctive panic, I remembered the simple lessons Adrian had given me. Pulling up on the reins meant fly higher to Brutus. Pulling down meant dive. I needed to pull straight out for the gargoyle to go back to cruising position, so I did, although harder than I probably should have.

Brutus leveled out, allowing my organs to realign back to their proper positions. Adrian’s grip on me turned less bruising, and when I pulled on the reins again, I made sure to keep them absolutely straight. This time, Brutus turned smoothly in the direction I indicated. Emboldened, I steered him toward the cluster of lights ahead. Within minutes, we were soaring over a city, the tops of tall buildings well below us and little dots in the nearby bay all that marked what might have been large, luxurious yachts.

I surprised myself by laughing as exhilaration replaced my fear. It was scary, yes, but I could, in fact, do this. Adrian’s laughter joined mine, and when he gripped me tighter, this time, it had nothing to do with keeping us from falling off. The gargoyle was the one soaring over the city, but in that instant, I felt like I was able to fly, and sharing that indescribable feeling with Adrian only made the moment more unforgettable.

I was almost sorry several minutes later when Adrian took the reins and turned Brutus back around. All too soon, it seemed, the lights from our house on wheels were back in view. One frightening dive later, we were back on solid ground, and Adrian issued a command that had Brutus lying down so I could slide off instead of jumping like Adrian did.

Once I was on my own feet, Adrian took the reins off Brutus, then said something in Demonish that I loosely translated as “Who’s a good boy?” The gargoyle took his praise as his due, even tilting his head in invitation. Adrian scratched him for a minute, then left Brutus to come toward me.

If I’d thought he looked luscious with his jacket open, that was nothing compared to how he looked with it off. His shoulders were so broad, my arms wouldn’t fit around them. Muscles flexed under skin tanned a deep gold, and his taut abdomen was set off by jeans that now hung so low, one tug would probably bare everything beneath.

I had a sudden urge to test that theory, and I clasped my hands together to stop myself before I did something crazy.

“So, some ride,” I said, more than a little breathless.

He came closer, and the raw hunger that flashed across his features almost leveled me. “The ride isn’t why your heart’s pounding, Ivy.”

He almost growled that last part, and his roughly sensual voice felt like it rubbed me while he spoke. I couldn’t admit that he was right, so I took a step backward—and almost tripped over a headstone. Adrian’s hand shot out, steadying me, and I shook it off while mentally berating myself.

Smooth, Ivy. Real smooth!

I pushed him away, feeling my heart hammer at the brief sensation of him beneath my hand. Touching him was more than enticing; it was addictive, which was why I had to get away from him before I let him do everything his darkly erotic stare promised me that I’d love.

I took his jacket off and held it out to him. His fingers closed over mine, but instead of taking the jacket, he used it to tug me into his arms. His hair brushed my face as he leaned down, and willpower alone caused me to turn my head at the last second, so that his mouth landed on my cheek instead of my lips.

He didn’t fight the movement, but slid his mouth lower until he reached my neck. A moan left me at the feel of his tongue, and I shuddered when he pressed his lips more firmly against my throat. Flicks, circles and light suction had me reeling from sensations, until I needed the arms he wrapped around me. Without them, I might have fallen.

“Ivy.” His voice was rough, and the hands that slid over me were achingly possessive. “I want you.”

I could feel that in the hard flesh that pulsed against my belly. Deep inside me, an answering throb responded. I’d been overwhelmed, angry, lost, betrayed, burdened and brokenhearted over the past several months, but right now, all I felt was passion that threatened to boil over until it scalded me, and I knew that I would love being burned.

But I couldn’t. Doing so wouldn’t just be epically stupid—it would be greedy, and greed was something to be avoided at all costs when it came to Adrian and me.

Judas had been guilty of three betrayals: trust, when he stole from the communal funds; greed, when he accepted those thirty pieces of silver; and death, when he identified Jesus to the Temple guards with that final, infamous kiss. Adrian had already betrayed my trust by lying to me about my real destiny. I wasn’t about to help him succumb to greed by saying yes now.

“No,” I said, pushing him away. Adrian let me back him up. He didn’t go far, and his hands flexed into fists as if he were fighting a fierce inner battle.

“Okay, so I still want you,” I went on, because that was obvious. “Whether that’s destiny, lust or something else, I don’t know, but if you care about me like you claim to, you’ll stay away from me unless you can prove that you’re not going to betray me again.”

And the only way he could prove that was if we succeeded in finding Moses’s staff and used it to repair the realm walls, then found the final, hallowed weapon, and did all of this without getting killed in the process. I may as well have told him that I’d give him a chance only if we were the last two people left on earth.

Even still, I couldn’t stop the emotions that rolled over me, breaking through barriers that hadn’t been strong enough to hold them. Adrian was right—I did still care for him. And that weakened me in ways my enemies would be too quick to take advantage of.

“I need to stay focused if I have any chance at winning this fight,” I continued, my tone hardening. “So, once again, if you really want to show me that you’ve changed, walk away from me. Now.”

He said nothing for so long that I wondered if he was going to walk away without a word. If he did, it would be for the best, which was why I refused to say anything else.

“What if I can prove that I won’t betray you again?” he finally asked, surprising me.

I let out a short laugh. “If any of us are still alive after this whole thing is over, sure, I might be up for a date.”

“There’s a way I can prove I won’t betray you without waiting until then, but I’ll need Zach.” Then his voice dropped, becoming rougher and softer at the same time. “If I can prove to you that you can trust me, that there’s no way I’d even be able to betray you again, will you give me a chance? A real one?”

I should say no. It might sound like a simple question, but it still possibly had destiny-affecting consequences. Then again, it was as realistic as my saying what I’d do if I won the Powerball, although I had better odds of doing that than Adrian had of proving he’d beat his destiny without actually having to beat it first.

Still, even as the word no formed on my lips, something rose up in me. What was wrong with saying what I’d do if an impossible dream came true? the part of me that couldn’t stop caring for Adrian whispered. After all, millions of people talked about what they’d do if they won the Powerball, and 99.9 percent of them would never find out.

In the end, I gave Adrian the same answer I’d forced myself not to say earlier. “Yes. Prove that...and I’ll give you a chance.”

CHAPTER EIGHT (#u48afa9c7-b74b-5e17-b7e5-5036678b5d86)

DESPITE BEING AWAKE for half the night, I woke up before Jasmine. After I brushed my teeth and threw a cardigan over my tank top, I went out into the main room. From the swaying motion of the tour bus, we were already back on the road, but I was surprised to see Adrian driving. Brutus sat behind Adrian’s chair, and someone had thrown a large blanket over the gargoyle so that he was completely covered. Costa was awake, yawning as he opened a carton of eggs in the kitchen.

“Oh, let me make breakfast,” I said, smiling as I gently moved him aside. It’s not that I thought cooking was my duty as a girl. Costa loved to cook, but he also wasn’t very good at it, as the past several weeks had proved.

He gave me a hopeful look as he went to the wet bar, where a coffeemaker was now set up. “French toast?”

“Sure. Adrian?” I asked, a little unsure about how I should act. Things between us hadn’t changed, and yet I’d agreed that they might, if he could prove that he’d conquered his destiny.

“Nothing for me, I already ate,” he replied.

That neutral response told me nothing about his frame of mind. Come to think of it, Adrian had been blunt to the point of aggressiveness about wanting me, yet he hadn’t said that he wanted more than sex. Months ago, he’d told me that he loved me, but in fairness, he said it right before he thought he was going to be killed by minions.

Did he still love me? Or—in truth—had he ever loved me? Maybe his saying that back then had been impulse instead of sincerity? He had thought he was about to die, after all.

I began breaking eggs and mixing them in a bowl. Noises in the bedroom had to be Jasmine waking up, so I called out, “Jaz? Want French toast?” while still mentally stewing.

“Did you mention breakfast?” Jasmine said with a yawn, appearing in the doorway.

I turned toward her, smiling to cover the confusion that had started to swirl inside me. “Yep. Hungry?”

“Starving,” she began, then stopped, staring hard. “I don’t believe it,” she hissed before going back into the bedroom and slamming the door.

I exchanged a bewildered glance with Costa. “Beats me,” he said to my unspoken question.

“I’ll be right back,” I muttered, wiping egg residue from my hands. Then I slid the door open. “Jaz? What’s wrong?”