Everlasting Bad Boys (22 page)

His head cocked to the left side.

“When I saw you kill, yes, for a moment, I was scared—but I was sure as hell terrified more when I realized just what old Jack was capable of doing—
and
what he’d already done.”

His eyes were so very golden. She loved those eyes, even when they flooded black with his demon power. “Someone has to stop the darkness, and I think we’re all lucky that someone is you.”

“I-I can’t stop it all. I never can.”

Of course not, he was one being. And the world was so very big. And so very bad. “You make a difference, Luis. To me, to others, you make a
huge
difference. I-I want you to know that, and to know that I won’t be forgetting you, either.”

He bent his head. Crushed his lips to hers. “You damn well better not, sweetheart, or I might just have to come back and remind you of exactly who I am.”

Then he was gone. Climbing from the car. Shutting the door.

Serena inhaled slowly, then turned to shove open her own door. As she stood, she realized that she wanted him to come back to her.

Hell, she didn’t want him to leave at all.

Not enough time.

She began stalking toward the house. She felt the stir in the air that told her one of her kind was close.

One of her kind—one that had chosen the dark magic. So tempting, that magic. Offering untold power and, according to some, eternal life.

“I’ve got him,” she whispered.

Luis gave a slight inclination of his head. “So do I.”

Almost in unison, they began running forward. If they sensed the warlock, then he would have to sense them.
His warning.

They bounded up the wooden steps of the porch. Luis blasted open the door with a wave of his hand. Serena darted after him, ready to face the bastard who had tormented her. She wanted to find him and—

A sudden, fiery pain knocked her off her feet. She fell onto the gleaming floor of the foyer, a sharp cry on her lips.

The burning cut into her muscles, dug down to the bone, and she didn’t need to jerk away the sleeve of her sweater to know what had happened.

The third binding mark branded her upper arm.

Bastard.

Oh, yeah, she had him.

But the asshole sure had her, too.

S
erena’s cry iced his veins. Luis glanced back, saw her stumble to the floor. He reached for her—

“No!” Her face snapped up toward him. Tears slid down her cheeks. “It’s the bind—
go!
Stop him!”

He didn’t want to leave her on the floor, crying in pain, but there was no choice. With a last glance, he spun on his heel and stormed through the house.

He could feel the magical pull of the warlock’s power. There, up ahead, to the right—

A wave of his fingers sent the door flying inward.

It smashed into the wall, missing the warlock’s blond head by about a foot.

Lucky bastard.

Well, not for long.

The warlock spun around, a small cloth and a black-hilted athame clutched in his hands.

He looked at Luis for a moment, then he smiled.

Luis hesitated.
Not the usual way death was greeted.

“Where’s the little witch?” the warlock drawled, and the knife slashed across the cloth, cutting the fabric into two pieces that fluttered to the floor.

Serena’s shirt.
It looked just like one he’d glimpsed in her closet. “You’re not going to get her power.”

The warlock’s smile widened. “I’ve already gotten the witch’s power—it’s all tied up and waiting for me.”

Bound.

Luis stepped forward and tried to block the image of Serena crying out in pain. His legs were braced apart, and he lifted his hands, letting his claws out. “You’re going to die here, warlock.”

“Michael. Michael Deveaux.” The warlock shook his head. “Really, if you’re going to hunt, you should at least know the name of the one you seek.”

The name was familiar. A Deveaux had attacked a coven of witches back in the 1900s in South Carolina, but word had passed that he’d died in the fire that consumed the coven house and—

The warlock laughed. “Trying to figure it all out, are you,
cazador
?” He shook his head. “Come now, surely you didn’t think that one of my kind wouldn’t find the secret to immortality, too? Why let the vampires and your sick lot have all the fun?”

Hell
.

“Most witches and wizards—those fucking idiots—think the dark path just brings pain, terror. Death. But they’re wrong. The dark—it can bring life, and the secret to living forever, it’s so simple, really.” He tossed the knife in his hand. The blade glinted. “All you have to do is steal a bit of magic…” His hand moved in a deceptively slow twist—and then the blade was spinning, tumbling end over end as it flew toward Luis.

He knocked the knife away with a toss of his right hand. The blade clattered to the floor. “I’m not one of your bound witches, asshole. It’ll take a hell of a lot more than you’ve got to stop me.” He didn’t care how old the guy was.

Or how powerful the idiot thought he was.

Deveaux would die soon.

“I’m stronger than you think,” the warlock growled. “And I know what makes
you
weak.”

A scream echoed through the house.

Serena’s scream.

Deveaux lifted his hand—

Serena flew into the room, fighting, thrashing, struggling against an invisible force that pulled her through the air.

Luis lunged across the room. Caught the warlock in a fierce grip and threw him against the wall.

Serena’s body dropped to the floor. She scrambled across the hard wood and—

The warlock slammed his fist into Luis’s chest, the full wrath of his magic behind the blow. This time, Luis was the one who rocked back, stumbling and slamming into the side of a chair.

OK, so the bastard was strong
.

He wasn’t strong
enough.

“To me, witch!” the warlock screamed, lifting his hands as power whipped through the room. Wind howled inside the house.

Serena seemed to rocket to the bastard. The warlock smiled that sick, twisted grin as she screamed and shot toward him.

Luis lunged to his feet and—

Serena whipped the warlock’s knife from behind her back. “Here I am, asshole!” She plunged the blade into his chest.

The warlock shrieked, an earsplitting cry of rage and fury.

Luis grabbed Serena’s wrist and yanked her behind him. As fast as he could, Luis threw up a spell to shield her. The warlock wouldn’t touch her again—not with magic or hands.

Deveaux pulled the knife from his chest. “You’ve desecrated my athame, bitch!”

Serena gave a ragged laugh behind him. “Like I give a damn! You’ve desecrated all of
our
kind!”

Enough talk. Luis grabbed the warlock. Lifted him into the air. “Tell me, Deveaux, have you killed witches? Bound them, stolen their powers and their lives?”

The question of guilt or innocence was always asked before death. Though he
knew
what answer he’d get from the warlock straining in his grasp.

“Yes, yes,
cazador
, I have, and I’ll do it again. I’ll kill those bitches and—”

Truth
.

“Get ready to burn,” Luis whispered and the hot breath of his power flowed through him. His hands heated, the magic boiling beneath his touch and—

“You get ready,” Deveaux snarled and slammed his forehead into Luis’s.

Luis growled at the snap of pain, but never released his hold on the warlock.

The fire of his magic burned brighter. His hands began to glow.

“I’m not some weak demon,
cazador!
I’m the strongest warlock who has ever walked this earth! You won’t kill me, you can’t—”

A gust of wind sent the pictures flying from the walls and slid the furniture across the room.

Then the warlock managed to snatch his right hand free of Luis’s grasp. His fingers went for Luis’s eyes.

“Let’s see what you fear,
cazador
!”

The dark spell came at him, hard, fast, and too powerful to block.

His mother. Burning. Screaming his name.

His father, lost, dying.

Serena. Three raised slashes near her shoulder. She lay curled on the floor. Fire raced toward her.

“Luis! Help me! Luis!”

“Dream to reality…” The warlock whispered as his fingers fell away. With a snap of sound, fire sparked near the curtains behind them.

Then greedily swept across the room.

“Witches burn so quickly. They’re so weak…”

“No!” Serena’s voice. But not afraid. Furious. “Don’t let him trick you!” Her fingers dug into his arms. The nails he loved bit into his flesh. “Forget the flames—fight him!”

But the fire burned so hot.

I don’t want to be weak.

She would never be.

“Luis, forget about me. He can’t be allowed to hurt the coven. We have to stop him!”

Never weak.

The fire was too close.

He gathered his magic, and let the soul-eater loose.

His hands burned through the warlock’s clothes. Deveaux whimpered. Denial. Fear.

His eyes widened when his magic was bound.

The fire around them faded into weak tendrils of smoke.

Deveaux’s mouth opened in a scream when death whispered in his ear.

Luis pressed all the harder onto him. He felt the surge of all the dark power trapped within the warlock’s body.

Power that would be his.

Every last bloodstained drop.

Deveaux began to shudder against him. Spittle flew from his mouth and the warlock choked, gasping for breath.

His death was too easy. For the crimes he’d committed, he should have suffered, writhed in agony.

But that wasn’t the way of the
cazador
.

No, it was for another far stronger than he to give final punishment.

His job was just to deliver the souls.

Luis lifted his hands.

Deveaux fell to the floor, body hard as a rock, breath gone.

Heart forever still.

Luis spun to face Serena then. She was staring, lips parted, at the warlock. He grabbed the sleeve of her sweater. Yanked—

“What—”

The seams snapped free and the sleeve fell to the floor. The three slashes lined her upper arm. Red, angry and—

Fading.

As he watched, the binding marks lightened. The raised skin lowered.

“You did it,” she whispered.

He touched her soft skin, smoothed his fingers over her flesh.

The marks vanished.

Her smile was so beautiful it broke the heart he’d long forgotten.

“You’re safe, Serena, and your coven’s safe.”

She had her magic, her sisters of the blood.

Her life would be just fine.

As for his…

It would never be the same.

He wasn’t the type for good-byes. Especially not with her.

They went back to her home, crossed the threshold just as the first rays of the dawn light trickled across the sky.

He knew that he should leave her. Just walk away.

But he couldn’t, not without having her just one more time.

A final time.

Luis carried Serena to her bedroom. He didn’t bother turning on any of the lights. He undressed her slowly, tenderly. Kissed the hollow of her throat. Tasted the sweetness of her nipples.

His tongue laved the soft curve of her belly, teased the piercing that drove him wild.

His fingers caressed her hips. Parted her thighs. Touched the warm cream that waited for him.

Before, he’d known heat and wild passion with her.

This time, it was different.

When he sank into her, the first thrust was slow. Her sex took him eagerly, squeezing his cock and coating his flesh with her slick heat.

Her eyes were open and locked with his as he withdrew, then thrust. The rhythm was slow, but the hunger burned just as fiercely as before in his blood.

Their lips met in a kiss. Mouths open, tongues tangling. His fingers caressed the center of her arousal even as he drove into her.

The bed squeaked beneath them. The scent of sex filled the air, and her taste flowed onto his tongue.

His head lifted. He raised his body, bracing his weight on his arms, and watched as his cock plunged past her plump nether lips.

Her pale thighs trembled.

He withdrew. Drove back into her snug sex.

Felt the creamy clasp of her body from his cock’s root to tip.

She came, clenching around him, breathing out his name.

Another thrust. Another slow, deep drive into her body.

It would never be this good again.

When he climaxed, he didn’t speak her name.

But his soul did.

He was gone.

Serena knew that Luis had left her even before she opened her eyes. There was a coldness, an emptiness, in the room. In the bed.

Steeling herself, she opened her eyes. The bright light of the afternoon sun filled the room.

The imprint of Luis’s head was still on her pillow, but her
cazador
was gone.

A long-stemmed red rose lay in his place.

She reached for the flower and lifted it to her nose. The soft petals brushed against her skin.

Such a sweet smell.

Such a fucking painful good-bye.

He did his job. He saved you. The coven. He had to go back to his life.

Her fingers clenched around the rose. A thorn pierced her thumb, drawing blood.

He hadn’t even said good-bye. Hadn’t even asked if she might want him to stay…or if she might want to go with him.

“Because he’s a damn
cazador
,” she muttered, dropping the rose and glaring at the flower. It was either glare or cry, and she was
not
going to cry. “He has to fight the world. He doesn’t have time to spend his days with a witch.”

But she would have liked to have spent her days
and
nights with him.

Dammit. She hadn’t bargained on falling for him.

Not for a second.

He wasn’t supposed to be a man that she could love. He was supposed to have been the worst kind of monster.

Not the perfect mate.

She inhaled, catching the scent of the rose, sex, and…him.

“No.” Serena shook her head. No, she’d just been through hell. She wasn’t going to skulk away now and let her dreams die.

Because she’d realized when that third binding mark bit into her skin that she
did
have dreams. Dreams of a home, of a man who loved her.

Dreams of Luis.

Too late.
She should have told him how she felt, not that crap about caring, but how she
really
felt.

There had to be a way. Something she could do.

She’d fought the warlock.

She was sure as hell going to fight for love.

What could she do—

Her mother’s voice whispered in her ear,
“The cazador, he comes after witches when they’re bad.”

A smile twisted her lips as inspiration filled her. “Time to get bad.”

Midnight on All Hallow’s Eve. The witching hour, as some called it.

The perfect time for her.

Serena pulled out her athame and carefully cast a circle in the dirt. A small tremble shook her hand as she gripped the knife, remembering the last time she’d held such a weapon.

But the athame—it
shouldn’t
have been a weapon. It was meant for magic, not pain and death.

There had been no choice.

Serena exhaled and then bent to light her candles. The wind was still this night. No leaves fluttered in the breeze. As if the air itself were waiting…

Just as she had waited.
Too many hours.

The circle was cast. The words of the spell poured from her. Magic blazed in her heart.

“I summoned you once,” she whispered, “and I’ll do it again.”

Luis gazed down into his tequila and realized that if he tried hard enough, he could see Serena’s reflection in the gleaming liquid.

His beautiful witch.

He’d kissed her before he left. Pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and conjured her a rose.

Leaving without a word had seemed to be the right choice. Because if he’d stayed and seen her when she woke, he would have broken down…and begged her to stay with him. Not for a few days. Forever.