Demon Branded (Demons of Florida) (9 page)

Growling, she yanked him around and snarled. “Don’t do anything stupid. Especially for me. I can take care of myself.”

“Just follow my lead. Trust me. For once.”

She opened her mouth to respond and the room spun around her. Blinking, she tried to make sense as the ceiling tilted and she suddenly stared at Tiago’s shoes.

Pain slammed into her cheek and the air pushed out of her lungs. Tunnel-vision narrowed as Tiago yelled something she couldn’t make out when everything went black.

Chapter Six

Tiago lurched to the side and caught Ona as she crumpled. Her dress hiked to her waist and she tilted onto the floor.

“Ona!” He knelt next to her and his shaking hands ran over her skin, trying to find what the problem might be.

“Shit,” her garbled curse was weak and hoarse. Coming to her knees she shook her head. “What was that?”

The brand on her hip sizzled and reached out to him like a physical tug to his mid-section and sent tendrils of magic so deep into him it left him gasping.

Fingers ran under his chin and tilted him around to gaze into Ona’s eyes. It all coalesced in that moment and he exhaled on a sigh. “You’re fully mine now. Your eyes are glowing red like mine do when I’m highly emotional. You must have lost your feet when the magic finally clicked into place. It took longer than with humans, but it finally happened.”

Scrambling way from him she snarled again and climbed to her feet. “Undo it.”

“You know I can’t.”

Glaring, the red of her irises flaring high, she pushed the hair off her forehead. “This should never have happened. And you will find a way to fix it.”

Like hell he would. It was what he wanted and he’d hold onto her to his last breath, but she didn’t want to hear that right now, and they didn’t have time to fight it out. “Keep close. We’ll have time discuss this after we get out of here.”

“No. I’m going home when we’re out of here.”

“Home. With me.”

“Just who do you think you are? I don’t even know you.” Glowing, her eyes flashed with anger while her cheeks retained the red from their activities. Determination bled from her pores. She was stunning and gorgeous. And all his.

“You know me,” he murmured and didn’t let the doubt invade him. He couldn’t afford it tonight. “Let’s go out there. Dance a little. The roar of the crowd hasn’t risen high enough to signal her entrance.”

“Lead the way.” She glowered her willingness to put off the talk, but she wouldn’t leave it for long. She gave him her arm, and as they walked, she palmed her stomach. She’d accept the truth. She had to.

“There you are!” The voice boomed down the hallway and ended the opportunity to make their alliance stronger, with whatever words he could muster.

Squaring his shoulders, Tiago wiped all emotion from his face and his thoughts. Ona straightened and he felt more than heard the small growl escape. At the entrance to the grand hall, one of the VanDross cronies stood with a jovial façade. Beneath the calculating and devious gleam the man couldn’t hide his anticipation of the impending fall out. Anyone looking at Ona would know that things weren’t going as Shreeva had planned.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite remember your name.” Tiago dismissed him with a disdainful sniff.

The demon’s eyes flashed red and he bared fangs with a hiss. Tiago brushed past him with Ona gripping his arm as if her hold on him was all that kept her claws sheathed. The male called after them as they entered the hall, “That’s fine, Montevedo. No one will remember your name after tonight.”

“Listen, you big fat meat bag,” Ona began and jerked as if she were about to lunge for the male’s throat. Tiago put a hand over hers and squeezed. Thankfully she got the message and eased back to his side without another word to the demon.

“Now isn’t the time.” Tiago led her onto the floor and pulled her around to nestle against him. One arm went around her waist and the other gripped her hand and rested it against his chest. “Do you see my father and mother?”

“No. I can’t believe all these people are demons. They just look like rich uptight types.”

“Don’t forget, the older, the more powerful. The ancient demons have been living here, passing as humans for centuries. They wear the cloak of refinement out of habit. And don’t forget why we’re here. We’re putting on the family show, setting up Shreeva for her comeuppance. It’s the only way to put a hitch in her plans, to take her father’s power from her. He’ll replace her after tonight if we just let it all play out.”

“Hmm.” Nodding, but not showing she’d heard a word he said, she laid her head against his chest and moved with him to the orchestral music as if they were one.

All sense of time and place left him as the strains of violin and cello music moved their feet. Her soft body melded to his. His hand brushed the skin of her back. The dress dipped low enough that he felt the beginning swell of the ass he’d just spanked. Heat beckoned and he slipped a hand to her hip, rubbing lightly over the brand he’d left. It vibrated against his skin. She shivered.

His cock went hard and she made a hungry sound. Ona nuzzled his shirt and murmured low, “Mmm. You smell so divine when you’re turned on. Like burning hickory. Hold me tighter. Put on a good show.”

His step faltered and she grumbled displeasure. Picking up their rhythm again, he led their dance through several songs, but his languid content was gone. She played him as if she were undercover. He’d forgotten that he’d avoided one marriage concocted as a power play by making a strategic alliance with the PACk. This was an arrangement, not some sort of match made of mutual attraction, liking, or even agreement.

“Ah, there you are, my pretty.” A small but firm grip yanked him from Ona’s arms with a ferocious growl. “Leave the slut be. Maybe I’ll let you play with her later. While I watch. But you and I both know you won’t be getting it up until we mate and I plan on getting on with that immediately. I’ve waited long enough.”

Shreeva VanDross tugged him through the crowd on the dance floor that parted before her. Everyone left a wide space. Malicious glee shone from all the black eyes staring at them. At least a dozen demons gathered around them, all well-known, wealthy, and influential. All lived at least part of their lives outside Florida. Running corporations, governments, and entire countries without the humans knowing what was in their midst. They foolishly thought the demons were all the crazed ones who left chaos in their wake after they came through the continual rifts over Florida. Those newest arrivals were all misshapen, ugly things that had no patience to blend. Patience that spanned decades, hundreds of years. They weren’t the same class as those gathered here. Humans thought all demons were easy to spot. They were so tragically wrong.

The demoness led him onto the stage backed with red velvet curtains and decorated with gilded metals, plush chairs that were insanely throne-like, and tall round tables laden with drinks. VanDross sat in a chair and stared straight ahead into the crowd. A woman sat next to him, her neckline plunging into a truly impressive mound of cleavage.

Shreeva stopped to pick up two champagne flutes and finally faced Tiago, slapping a filled glass into his hand. Tall and thin, she wore a white sheer dress that did nothing to hide her body. Her red hair gleamed and hung free in waves down to mid-back. At her crotch, her red pubic hair was plainly visible and higher, her nipples were hard and tight, pushing the front of her gown out in a way that would entice most men to fall at her feet. Her mouth was coated in dark red lipstick and her white porcelain skin shone beneath the light. She smelled of sex. No doubt she’d come straight from bed, if the red bite marks on her neck and around her nipples were any indication.

She caught him staring at her breasts and ran a hand over the tops of them. “He was delicious. Still tied to my bed. You can watch me play with him again later. Let’s get this over with so I can finally hear you beg.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so, bitch.” Ona snarled from right behind him. The hair on the back of his neck rose. “And don’t ever touch what’s mine again.”

“Who let the bed slave into the hall?” Shreeva demanded.

“I did,” Tiago answered. “You wouldn’t be so rude as to deny your guests their dates, would you?”

“Your date?” Her question came in a deadly silent tone that sliced through the room where it appeared everyone had gathered to watch the spectacle. Even the party-goers from the pool who milled about the fringes in robes or bathing suits. They may frolic in the nude outside, but in the ballroom, most adhered to social etiquette, to a point.

All hundred or so demons invited to this farce gathered. The heat soared in the room sending the tension even higher. But the silence was total.

Shreeva stared at him and raised a finely plucked brow. “You are mine. There will be no playing unless I direct it.”

She turned and announced to the hall, “I, Shreeva VanDross, claim this demon, Tiago Montevedo as mine. Bring out the couch. Everyone will witness the binding.”

Cold, hard dread lodged in his throat. He turned toward Ona in time to see four large males grab her mid-lunge. She bared her teeth and he gave a short, curt shake of his head. Murmuring low, but well within her hearing range, he commanded her, “Not yet.”

She glared at him and her mouth set in a firm line but she nodded.

Four other large demons grabbed him and jerked him back. His feet left the ground and a moment of self-hatred assailed him. What had been his plan? To waltz in here and show Shreeva she couldn’t have him then walk out unscathed? The rush to avoid a fate with the demoness had pushed him into idiocy.

Now he was being dragged to some bed with chains while Shreeva smiled in glee and licked her lips.

Expectation laden the air with a buzz that made him sweat. By the time he came to his senses, the shirtless males had him shoved down onto a padded bench and had one wrist chained. He roared his displeasure and jerked away, bringing the entire couch sliding over the stage. Shreeva moved in front of him, blocking his progress and lowering her voice, adding a powerful compulsion in the vibrations that rocketed through his body. “Sit. Down.”

Fighting that command made his head throb and his muscles ache. Grinding his teeth he let himself glimpse Ona who frowned, standing stock still amid the four burly demons—VanDross bodyguards ready to do anything Shreeva bid. Without a distraction, Ona couldn’t leave this room alive, no matter how well she could take care of herself. There were too many demons expecting blood and a whole troop of hellions on the front lawn. If she shifted, those hellions would tear her apart. This wasn’t the time to fight. He’d play this to his advantage. Somehow.

The only movement in the crowd drew his attention. His father, whispering in Cin’s ear until she nodded, frowned, and made her way back toward the doors. Vedo shook his head and stared at his son for a split second before he slowly shoved through the crowd toward the stage.

“I said, sit,” Shreeva roared.

Steam erupted around him. His legs shook and his nose started to bleed. Hot liquid coursed down to fill his mouth. A whimper, low and intense brought his eyes open. Ona stared at him, her desperation broadcast in the set of her vibrating body. She mouthed, “Sit.”

Tiago slowly lowered to the couch and the pressure evaporated.

“That’s it.” Shreeva moved to his side. With a flash of long red nails, her hand came down on his shoulder. The scent of another male’s blood overrode his own. She liked to use those talons. Bile rose in the back of his throat but he kept his outer demeanor calm. She smirked and glanced over her shoulder. “See, father? The perfect, obedient husband.”

She snapped her fingers and one of the guards grabbed his other hand to chain it. “You. Unzip his pants.”

Tiago jerked when a heavy hand brushed his stomach. Growling rose over the excited murmurs that had started again. He whipped his foot out and shoved the eager, muscle-bound guard intent on opening Tiago’s belt. Anger surged through him, reminding him of his purpose. He demanded, “Keep this filth off of me.”

Shreeva struck out, her long red nails slicing through his cheek. Blood sizzled and steam rose around him and a gasp, indrawn, rippled around the room as a collective breath was taken. With a quick move, she shredded down the front of his suit with the sharp talons, slicing into his skin from throat to lower belly, but stopped when she reached his groin. She ripped the clothes open and he sat there in front of the hall, exposed with his arms chained to a couch. His chest stung as the sizzle of his wound gushed.

His pants ripped open on a slash of Shreeva’s nails.

He roared, barely recognizing Ona’s shriek as she scrambled, throwing elbows into the large hulking demons next to her. His heart sang even while his skin curdled, trying to keep away from the long knives on Shreeva’s fingers. But she wrapped that deadly hand around his cock and stroked. She frowned when there was no response and a wave of compulsion slammed into him, sending his mind reeling into numbness.

“What the hell? Nobody defies me. Everyone wants me.” Shreeva frowned at him and slapped him hard, rocking his head back on his shoulders. He yanked, dragging the couch over several feet as he bared his teeth, ready to die with his fangs ripping out her throat.

“You.” She snapped at one of her shirtless guards. “Suck him.”

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.” He ground out. “I will rip your head off.”