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Darynda Jones

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“With a deep regret, I wiggled out from under him despite his sleepy protests and grabbed articles of clothing as I tiptoed to his door. What amazing willpower I had. What fantastic self-control. I'd come over for one reason, and everything but that reason seemed to be resolved. When I reached the door, I saw what looked like another note. But this was his door, not mine. I peeled it off, then angled it until I could read it by the light of the fire. Is that all you've got? With a smile spreading slowly across my face, I dropped everything I'd just picked up and went back for more.”

“You realize that by summoning me here, you signed your own death warrant.” Demons were nothing to take lightly. I’d seen what they were capable of, but I also knew they were no match against the light that shone inside me. “I do,” it said, and I fought to place the language we were speaking. I knew it was ancient. Possibly the first language ever spoken in the universe. “Unless we sign yours first.” “Is that what you think will happen here?” “Dutch,” Reyes said into my ear, “stop playing with your dinner.”

“She tore through the wrapping and took out a blue velvet box. She glanced back at me as though unable to believe her eyes. After pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she lifted the lid. Two rolls of cushioned velvet sat inside. The slit that those cushions made should have held a ring, but it didn’t. Sucked to be her. She gaped at me. “What is this?” she asked, appalled. “It’s a simple yes/no question,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. I lay back, crossing my arms behind my head. “When I get an answer, you get the rest of your gift.”

“Hey,” the man said, raising his hands in surrender, “I don’t have any issues with you, Farrow. You know that.” “Then we have an understanding, but just in case you’re thinking of somehow repeating history and trying to control me through her,” he said, arching a brow in warning, “do you remember how fast I am? How deadly?” Navarra nodded without hesitation. Reyes leaned toward him and raised his own hand to cover part of his mouth as though telling a secret. “She’s faster.”

“Si no vas a decirme dónde estás, si no vas a confiar en mí para ayudarte entonces, ¿por qué estás aquí? ¿Para qué molestarse? Luego de un silencio, en la sala resonó con un suave gruñido, sentí que se iba. Sentí la desaparición de su ausencia en la habitación, el escalofrío recorriendo mi espalda. En una fracción de segundo antes de desaparecer por completo, él pasó junto a mí, y me susurró al oído. “Porque tú eres la razón por la que respiro.”

“Hey, wait," I said, pulling back, "you are the son of Satan. Maybe we need a safe word." His grin morphed into something wickedly charming. "Okay, how about, 'Oh, my god, it's so big.'" Laughter burst out of me before I could stop it. Not that it wasn't. "That would be a safe phrase, but okay." I thought about it, then said, "How about 'Is that all you've got?”

“As we sat there, the door opened, just barely, and a hand slid inside and dropped a set of keys on a side table. "Thanks, Garrett!" I called out. He gave me a thumbs-up and closed the door. "How do you suppose he knew we were performing sexual favors on each other?" I asked, snuggling against my man again. "Possibly because you screamed my name about seven times.”

“He bit down, welding his teeth together as he tried to explain. "I didn't want you to see... my world. I never wanted you to see where I came from. And I damned sure didn't want you to see me in that place. To see the monster." How ridiculous and vulnerable he could be over the craziest things. I wanted to kick him. But mostly I wanted to rip off his clothes because that was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Reyes walking through smoke and ash, literally made of fire, his body startlingly powerful, his allure breathtaking. His lids narrowed as he tried to read my emotions. Or maybe he'd already read them and thought he misunderstood. Stepping closer, braced both hands on the wall beside my head. Then he bent until his mouth was inches from mine. "You really are a god," he said, in awe of me when he had no idea the depths of my astonishment, of my awe of him. "And you really were created in the fires of sin." "You're repulsed?" "Oh yes," I said, curling my fingers into the hem of his shirt and coaxing him closer. "Completely.”

“You either fainted or you wanted a much closer look at the cracks in the tile. Either way, you hit hard." "Seriously?" He nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't have been trying to make out with him," he suggested. How did he know that? "I was kissing him good-bye." He snorted and exchanged glances with the nurse. "That's not what it looked like to me." Probably not. But what happened? Could Reyes Farrow take control over me even from a freaking coma? I was doomed.”