Chapter Twenty

Morrigan was beyond exhausted, physically and mentally. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt any other way. There was so much for her to take in.

All the fight went out of her, and she relaxed in Maccus’s arms, needing his strength to center her. The attack, then being unconscious and locked in a coma for days, had left her weak.

Somehow, he’d healed her. His presence and persistence had brought her back from her own personal hell.

She could remember now, all the details of the battle crystal clear—the blood and guts, the strain of her muscles as she’d fought, the grunts of pain from the demons, their cries of anguish as they fell beneath her blade. The knife that had slammed into her chest. Things got fuzzy after that.

According to Maccus, he’d launched his knives at Lucifer and had hit her sister.

He was too good a shot to miss his target.

But Lucifer wouldn’t have hesitated to use Kayley as a shield.

“My father was a demon.” Wrapping her head around that was almost impossible. Her father was just like the creatures she captured and sent back to Hell. Maybe she’d even hunted him. “Do you think I’ve met him?”

“Doubtful.” His deep voice was a calming rumble against her cheek where it rested on his chest. “Lucifer wouldn’t want to risk you sensing something or allow the demon to form an attachment. The fact he went back twice to your mother shows he was more than physically attracted to her.”

“You think so?” For some unknown reason, that made it seem a bit better.

“Yes.” That was Maccus, using one word when it would do. He laid out the facts, never trying to convince her of anything.

“God, I’m so tired.” She was heartsick. So much blood and destruction and death. For what? Power? From what she’d seen, power was little more than an illusion, a fleeting thing that either faded fast or was taken by someone else who wanted what you had. It was all so stupid and pointless.

Tilting her head back, she looked up at the ruthless killer who’d saved her life and brought her back from the void beyond. “So, what happens now?” As much as she’d like to stay there with the covers pulled over her head, Lucifer wouldn’t allow things to rest as they were.

Maccus brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. The gesture was both sweet and awkward. “You get strong. Then we go hunting.”

It was always straightforward for him. If someone was trying to kill you, you killed them first. Except, she’d been sent to kill him, and she was still here.

“What is it?” he asked.

It no longer surprised her that he was so in tune with her moods. Nobody was as aware of their surroundings as Maccus. “Do you think Lucifer can use me to hurt you?”

“No.” Quick and blunt, his assessment was reassuring. “If he could have, he would have already done so. He tried to make you kill me in the alleyway and failed.”

That made her feel a bit better, but she still worried. “So, what will they do?” Because Gabriel was lurking out there as well.

“What they do best—manipulate people to get them to do their dirty work.”

That summed it up perfectly. Wasn’t she hunting demons? That certainly hadn’t been in her top hundred career choices growing up. Yet, here she was.

The peace that now enveloped them was fleeting. Best to take advantage of it while they could. And wasn’t it convenient that they were in bed? A big, soft bed. And they were both naked, too. Seemed a shame not to take advantage of the situation.

And there was no way for her not to notice his erection. Not when it was poking her in the side.

When she ran her fingers over his chest, he caught her hand and flattened it against his skin. “You need to rest.”

“I’m not tired,” she assured him. “I’ve slept for three days.” His lips thinned at the reminder, drawing his mouth into a hard line. He was going to be stubborn.

She turned and straddled his lap, so she faced him.

“Morrigan,” he began, but she cut him off, not wanting to talk any longer. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

The sound he made was a mix of pain and pleasure. He gripped her hips and yanked her forward until his erection pressed against her stomach. He was so hot and hard, so filled with life. It was what she needed. She’d been so close to death, so close to never having this again.

And unlike a normal human, she didn’t need as much recovery time. Was she hungry? Yes. But touching Maccus, being with him, was more essential to her than any food could ever be. She needed it to heal her heart and soul.

When he tilted his head to one side and deepened the kiss, she simply let go of all her worries and lost herself in his touch. They kissed, their lips and tongues teasing and retreating.

She traced his bulging biceps, outlining the tattoos with her questing fingers, paying special attention to the throwing stars at his shoulders. One of them fell into her hand, making her laugh. Raising it to the light, she examined it closely. “It’s amazing.”

“Thank you.” He inclined his head.

“You made this?” It all suddenly made sense. “You made them all.”

“Yes.” He slid his hands over her hips and waist before bringing them around to the front so he could cup her breasts. His large palms covered the mounds completely, and his fingers teased her taut nipples.

“They’re all infused with your blood.” They had a part of him in them so that they could be a part of him. “That’s brilliant.” The throwing star disappeared from her hands, reappearing on his body.

Keeping her hands busy, she skated them down his chest and wrapped one of them around his cock. It pulsed hard and hot against her palm.

An answering throb began deep in her core.

Maccus tipped her back, supporting her weight in his hands. The new position pushed her breasts upward. He wasted no time before bending forward and capturing one of her peaked nipples between his lips. The erotic tug set her entire body on fire.

She retaliated by squeezing his erection and pumping her fist up and down.

Holding her steady with one hand, he reached between her legs and cupped her. When he dipped a finger inside, he discovered she was already wet for him. She was panting heavily, suspended on a wire of pleasure that threatened to snap.

Refusing to delay any longer, she guided the head of his shaft to her entrance and slowly pushed herself down. It was always a tight fit at first, her inner muscles rippling around his hard length.

Maccus gripped her waist and pushed his hips up to meet her. Their eyes met, his, hot and possessive. She had no idea what hers reflected but feared it was way too much. He hadn’t returned her declaration of love. Not that she expected him to. That wasn’t his style. His deeds spoke for themselves.

In her books, actions spoke much louder than any words ever could.

His arms shook with the strain of not thrusting, simply allowing her to sink onto his erection. It was exquisite torture.

This should have been a fast coupling, a celebration of life after facing death, but was so much more. Their gazes never wavered as she dug her fingers into his shoulders for support until she’d taken all of him inside.

“Whatever you need.” His fingers tunneled through her hair. It was the only time in years she wished it was longer. The caress continued over her forehead, down her cheeks, and along her jaw before dipping lower.

She had to move. The pulsing of his cock stimulated every nerve ending. As incredible as it was, she needed more. With his hands on her hips, he helped lift her as she found a rhythm that pleased them both.

Her orgasm took her by surprise, surging forward and swamping her. She cried out, her inner muscles clamping down hard on his cock. On a deep groan, he found completion.

There were no words.

She closed her eyes and swallowed back the words that hovered on the tip of her tongue. When he wrapped his large arms around her, she let him, clinging to him in return, offering him a safe haven in her embrace. They stayed like that, neither of them in a hurry for the precious moment to end. He swayed back and forth, rocking her slightly.

The sweat dried from their bodies, and she shivered, chilled at the reminder that they could hide no longer. It was as though some internal clock inside her was ticking down.

A ringing sound broke the silence. “That’s my phone.” It was the one Emmett used to contact her.

Still partially erect, his penis dragged over her sensitive inner walls as he slipped from inside her.

The phone rang again, and she pinpointed the direction of the sound. Her jacket was laid across the back of a chair with her pants alongside.

She scrambled off the bed and dug her phone out of her jacket pocket on the third ring. “Hello.”

“What took you so long?” Emmett demanded. “No matter.” He kept right on talking. “I have a job for you. Most unusual, but it comes from Lucifer himself. A half-breed demon.”

Her stomach churned. Dread settled over her—a heavy cloak, a premonition. Even before he said it, she knew what was coming.

“Goes by the name of Kayley.” After that, she heard nothing else over the buzzing in her ears. Not the instructions as to where she’d pick up the cuffs she’d need, not anything. She must have said something right because Emmett ended the call.

“She’s dead. You said she was dead.” The protective case on her phone cracked around her white knuckles. “That’s what you said.”

It hurt her throat to speak. Her entire body ached as though she’d been beaten.

Lightheaded, she fell to her knees, unable to process. Her sister was alive, but she was Morrigan’s bounty, to be hunted down, cuffed, and sent to Hell.

Maccus went down on one knee beside her, pried the phone from her hand, and tossed it aside. “My knives struck her. Lucifer disappeared. Her body was lying in the alley when I left.”

The image made her flinch. God, that was so sad. How had it all come to this? Hysteria bubbled up inside her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She had to give the devil his due. He knew just what to do to inflict the most pain. Didn’t matter if it was a demon, human, or hunter.

He was going to make her hunt her sister and send her to Hell. If she didn’t, then she’d forfeit her own life.

Once again, he was giving her a choice, the way he had all those years ago. Would Morrigan save Kayley, or would she let her rot in Hell for eternity?

…

Lucifer had interrupted the most perfect moment of Maccus’s life. Sex wasn’t new. He and Morrigan had engaged in sex many times. While it had been explosive and different from anything he’d ever experienced, what had just happened between them was on a whole other level.

There’d been a depth of emotion with each kiss, every touch that rocked him to his core. He couldn’t be sure, but it might have been what humans referred to as making love.

Not that he loved her. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Wasn’t capable of such emotions. But she’d told him she loved him earlier, so maybe that’s what made the difference. That, and having her basically come back from the dead.

The devil was wily, the bastard. He was hitting Morrigan right where it would hurt the most.

“Lucifer must have come back for her after we left, somehow managed to save her.” As Maccus had done for Morrigan. It was the only explanation. “They’ve been together a long time. Maybe he’s changed her somehow to make her harder to kill. She’s not fully human,” he reminded her.

He should have anticipated something like this. But Lucifer wasn’t known for caring. That he would expend any energy to save Kayley was shocking. It made a twisted kind of sense, though, when Maccus considered the motive and impact behind the action.

Everything was just a game to him.

“Will you do it?” That was the big question. “Will you hunt her?”

She nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. The smell of sex clung to her skin, but the mood was gone. They were back in battle mode.

“He’ll give me the same choice as before, her or me.”

She hadn’t reasoned this through yet. “No, Morrigan.” It got her attention when he said her name.

“Then what?”

He only stared at her and waited for her to come to her own conclusions.

Awareness dawned. “You for her?”

“Maybe. Or maybe you kill me, and Lucifer spares both of you.” She would not choose him over her sister or her own life.

He’d never put anyone else first. How could he expect anyone else to do it for him?

He’d saved Morrigan’s life, but that was different. She’d fought alongside him, protecting his back during their battle. Giving up your soul for eternity was a whole other level.

Still, the yearning to come first with someone was an insistent ache that never went away.

Leaving her before he did or said something he’d regret, he headed to the bathroom. They could both use some time alone with their thoughts. It seemed essential to rinse her scent from his body before they faced their next challenge. It would make the betrayal easier to handle if he couldn’t still smell her sweet release on his skin.

And could he really call it a betrayal? Lucifer had put her in a situation where she had no choice at all. “You’ll have to decide what you’re going to do,” he tossed over his shoulder before entering the bathroom.

He’d just stepped under the spray when she joined him. The short hairs on the back of his neck rose, and his fingers itched to hold a blade. It went against everything inside him to turn his back on a potential enemy.

Morrigan might be his lover, but she could still be his killer. Damn Lucifer and damn Gabriel.

She wrapped her hand around his arm and yanked. He allowed her to pull him around to face her. Water cascaded down on them both.

Her green eyes flashed. Her scowl was fierce. Tall and proud and very naked, she faced him. She was magnificent. “What the hell did you mean by that?” she demanded.

With a nonchalance he wasn’t feeling, he reached around her, grabbed a bar of soap, and rubbed it over his chest. “Just what I said. You’ll have to choose between your sister and me, or maybe between my life and yours. That’s no choice at all.”

“You expect me to just kill you.” Why was she so shocked? The options were clear.

“It’s what I’d do.” There was no point in lying. Better they both knew where they stood.

She dropped her hand from his arm as though his flesh burned her and took a step away. This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To put some space between them? To create distance?

It would make it easier for her to try to kill him and for him to kill her.

Only for the first time in his existence, he didn’t think he could end a potential target. Because Morrigan had come to mean something to him.

Fuck, he was so screwed up. Life used to be so simple, everything black and white.

“No.”

What was she talking about? He tossed the soap aside and stood under the spray. “No, what?”

Hands on her hips, breasts high and proud, she was indeed a warrior to be reckoned with. “No, you don’t get to push me away. This isn’t a simple choice. There has to be a way out of this or around it.”

Something warm expanded in his chest. He ignored it. No matter what she hoped, there were no other options.

“There is no way.” He reached out to turn off the water, but she caught his arm again.

“I don’t believe that. I can’t.”

Refusing to accept the inevitable didn’t change it. He backed her up against the tiled wall until she had to crane her neck to look up him. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. It is what it is.”

“Coward.”

He roughly gripped her hips and lifted her right off her feet. “Listen to me and listen well.” He managed to keep his voice low and level when he wanted to yell so badly the muscles in his neck ached from holding back. “You will kill me, or I’ll kill you.”

It was the kind of statement that had made demons piss themselves and angels try to flee.

Morrigan kissed him.

The passion that had only been banked roared to life like an inferno, burning everything in its path. Where earlier had been soft and easy and slow, this time was hard and fast.

Their lips met in a fury. Her fingernails scored his shoulders. The bite of pain spurred him on. He shoved his hips between her legs, making a space for himself.

If she’d fought him, he would have stopped, but she wrapped her thighs around his waist and angled her pelvis toward him.

There was no finesse, only animal need, as he shoved his cock into her welcoming warmth. Throwing back his head, he roared. Fury and passion drove him to claim her.

They clung to each other as the madness overtook them. He slammed into her, hips working like a jackhammer. And she welcomed him, heels digging into his ass, her sweet whimpers filling his ears.

Desperation pushed him. Faster. Harder. He couldn’t get enough of her. Would never have enough.

When his orgasm hit, it ripped his very soul from his body. Cock jerking, balls aching, he emptied himself inside her. Her hot core rippled over his cock, milking every ounce of his release until he was empty.

Lungs heaving like he’d done ten miles at a dead run, he came back to his senses. Fuck, had he hurt her?

The water still rained down on their bodies, the steam surrounding them in a foggy cocoon. He pressed his hands against her wet cheeks, wondering how much was from the shower and how much was tears.

And then something miraculous happened. She smiled at him. It wasn’t a big smile, more of a tilting upward of the corners of her mouth.

He lowered his forehead to hers in defeat. She was fearless, but the devil would have his due.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered.

“Whatever we have to.” It was the motto he’d lived by and might well be the one by which he died.