Authors: Stephanie Rowe
He kissed her deeper, needing more, and she kissed him back every bit as passionately. It was intense and powerful, driven by need, but it wasn’t blind physical need. It was a burning in his core, in a part of his soul that had never been fed, and he was desperate for more, to access that part of him, to feel that warmth spread through him.
But the beast tangled with it. Striving for supremacy. Not allowing defeat of its hold on the throne. But as Jarvis kissed her more deeply, as he shed her jeans and unzipped his fly, as he felt the skin of her thighs settled across his, he felt that flickering warmth inside him take a stronger hold. Still small. Still subordinate. But solid. Glowing. Holding on to the connection with Reina, and the tenderness of her touch and her kiss.
He needed more. Had to be inside her. Had to complete the connection. He palmed her hips, stroking her soft skin as he lifted her over him.
“Yes,” she whispered. She met his gaze, and then she smiled, so tenderly, so affectionately. An expression of pure, non-judgmental love directed at him, only for him, from her heart and soul into his.
He thrust deep, one movement, and then he was sheathed deep inside her. She shuddered and leaned her forehead intimately against his, her gaze not leaving his as he moved inside her. He saw in her face pure tenderness, sensuality, and a need for who he was and what he could give her, the same emotions pulsing so deep inside him.
Together, connected in their bodies, in their souls, and their spirits, they moved, passion building, need escalating, connection tightening, until he couldn’t think of anything but Reina. He couldn’t feel anything but her body around his, her breasts against his chest. He sought out her mouth and felt the world shift as their lips connected.
When she cried out at the peak of her passion, his own answering orgasm hit him hard, rolling through him like a beautiful sunshine beating down at his soul, and he felt peace settle over him. True peace. The kind he’d never felt in his life. The kind of peace that only Reina could give him.
She sagged against him, her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him so intimately, as if she’d never let him go.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply breathed in the moment, the connection, the bond.
Then he heard voices, and he tensed, jerking his head up to look past her. She tensed against him as he watched a group of teenagers stroll past the end of the alley. One glanced over, and Jarvis felt the beast roar to life.
Don’t look at my woman.
He swore and leaned his head back, bracing himself as the poison careened through him like an angry, swollen river trying to destroy everything in its path.
One minute. That was all he’d gotten. One damn minute of relief.
Reina studied him, her face pinched with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” He slipped his hand underneath her shirt, and he sighed at the feel of her bare back under his palms. He moved his hand around and cupped her breast. Dear God,
yes
. Her skin was so soft, a breath of life he could get nowhere else. She was his salvation, and he drank it in, trying to fight back to that place of peace she’d taken him to, but it was elusive, flitting out of his grasp. He tucked his face into the curve of her neck and inhaled her scent. The lavender and vanilla imbued his pores and his soul, but the relief would not come back. “I’m not having a good day, babe.”
Reina sat back on his thighs, her knees on either side of his hips. She held his face in her hands and searched his gaze, her blue eyes so genuine and careful. “You did it,” she whispered.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away from hers. “Did what?”
“Rocco’s going to be okay.” She smiled, her eyes dancing with so much love he could feel the warmth of it in his own heart. “You gave him the strength to continue. You saved his life.”
“I gave him hate—”
“Which is more powerful than apathy. Sometimes you have to get angry first, before you can get happy. People don’t understand that, but it’s true. You gave him anger and hate, and that’s a reason to live.” She smiled and brushed her thumbs over his cheeks in a gesture so tender it made something burn in his chest. “You’re a gift, Jarvis. You saved his life.”
Who the hell was tender with Hate? Didn’t she understand who he was? But he was glad she didn’t. He treasured the fact that she saw him as something other than a big, black ghoul. He took her wrists in his hands and squeezed affectionately. “You’re insane.”
She smiled. “No, I’ve just seen everyone in my family surrender to death. Watching Rocco find the courage to fight to survive was the greatest gift you could ever give me.”
His heart began to thud, a slow, laboring beat at her warmth, at her complete belief in his value. “Sweetheart, you can’t make other people fight. They have to make that choice, and if they choose not to, it’s not your fault.”
She cocked her head. “Like how you’re choosing not to fight your explosion?”
He scowled. How had the conversation turned to him? “That’s different. That’s how I end. It’s been a given since the day I was born.”
She leaned forward until she was resting her forehead against his, mimicking her position when they’d been making love. “I want you to fight,” she whispered. “Why do I want you and Natalie to live more than either of you want yourselves to live? Why?”
The thickness to her voice touched something inside him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “Sweetheart, you need to ditch the love and start drinking in some of my hate. If you hated me, it’d be a hell of a lot easier.”
“Hate?” She lifted her head to stare at him. “Are you kidding? I’d rather have a part of my heart die with you and my sister than soil my love with hate just to protect me from pain.” She laid her hand over his chest. “Love is good, Jarvis. You just need to let it in.”
He sighed with frustration. “I’m not hard-wired for love.
You need to stop making me into something I’m not.”
“Jarvis—” Her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. “Oh, it’s Trinity.” She answered it. “Trin? Hello? Hello?”
Jarvis fisted her hair, absorbing the silkiness of those locks. He tunneled through her tresses and, almost absently, began to braid it. His mind began to refocus, to think about what they had to do next. The interlude was over. The final battle was approaching. And now, by the grace of Reina’s soothing presence, his thoughts were clear enough to strategize.
Reina rested the phone against her cheek. “She’s in trouble.”
“What’s wrong?” He finished one tiny braid and started on another, a smaller one this time. Narrower than his fingers, but somehow he was able to manipulate her hair with a finesse that had always eluded him with knitting needles.
“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything, but I could hear noise in the background. We need to go to my house and check on her—”
“No time.” Jarvis had his plans, and it was time move. Regretfully, he shifted Reina to the passenger seat and helped her put her pants back on, even though a part of him wanted to tumble her into the backseat and go back to that place she’d taken him.
That moment was past. Now was time for reality. “We’ll have Blaine go check on her.” He zipped himself up and then took her hand. “We need to get that scythe from the Grim Reaper.” He pressed her palm to his lips. “I swore I’d help you save your sister, and I meant it. We’re going to make this happen for you. Your sister’s going to live, and Cam’s going to save the world from me. Got it?”
She nodded, but he could tell she was barely listening as she settled into her seat and pulled her hand out of his. “I think maybe I should go see the Grim Reaper alone,” she said.
“Absolutely not.” He shot a surprised look at her as he started the truck. “Why in the hell would you even suggest that?” As if he would allow her to go into that den of iniquity without protection.
“Every time your stress level goes up, you go closer to the edge. Fighting my battles is shortening your life span.” She strapped on the seat belt, trapping herself on the other side of the car. Away from him. “So, drop me off and—”
“No chance.” How sweet was it that she wanted to protect him? Completely insulting as to his warrior talents, of course, but instead of getting offended… shit… it made him feel good. She was willing to trade her best chance of saving her sister to let him live a little longer?
His throat tightened for a split second, and he leaned over and planted one on her. No mouth had ever tasted as good as hers did, right in that second. “You are a treasure.”
She studied him. “How can you have so much faith in everyone else, but not in yourself?”
“I’ve got tons of faith in myself. I know exactly what I’m capable of.” He pulled out into traffic, his grip tight around her hand. “I’ll kick everyone’s ass to hell and back before I die.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” Yeah, he knew she was asking why he didn’t try to beat his own rap. Reina made him feel like there was chance he had a shred of decency in him, and he’d never felt that way before. Damned if he didn’t like it. But at the same time, he knew it was a false hope. He was what he was, and he’d accepted that long ago.
She had more fire and more heart than he could ever hope to have, and a part of him wanted to pull her into his lap, dive into bed with her, and never emerge. Just bury himself in the peace she gave him and pretend he was worthy of her.
But he didn’t have that choice.
***
Reina glanced over at Jarvis as they hurried up the stone steps of the gorgeous brownstone on Commonwealth Avenue. His skin had a faint purplish hue, which, on him, was rocket sexy, even if it was terribly disheartening at the same time. He was being trailed by a horde of black shadows, like he was the pied piper of all things ominous and deadly.
Jarvis glanced over at her, and his expression softened. He brushed his hand through her hair, his fingers playing with the braids that hadn’t fallen out yet.
When had she stopped thinking of him as a monster? When had she started noticing the lines in the corners of his eyes, as if he’d once smiled, and his skin still remembered how to do it?
Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t really remember when she’d smiled much either. Well, there were smiles, and there were
smiles
. The latter was what counted. The kind that started in the heart and swelled up and out until there was no choice but to expose those pearly lights to the sunshine.
Two non-smiling death mongers. What a perfect couple they made.
Jarvis hit the buzzer, snaked his hand around her wrist, and yanked her against him. She melted into his body and pressed her face against his chest. His heart was racing, as if it were immersed in some great fight for its life (go figure), and his skin was so hot she was surprised his shirt hadn’t caught fire. But she could smell the faint scent of woods, of man, of humanity. In there, underneath his destiny, was a real man.
A man who held her tightly, as if he would never let her go. A man so unlike the brother he was risking it all for. “What is the deal with you and your brother?”
Jarvis pressed the buzzer again. “What do you mean?”
Reina hesitated, not sure whether to pry. “Why is he so mad at you? I mean, you’re trying to save him, but he won’t help you.”
“I haven’t seen him for a hundred and fifty years.” Jarvis sighed and leaned against the wall. His face was drawn, his hands nearly black. “I was six. He was five. Angelica had heard of the Guardian of Love, and she’d decided that he would be a great addition to the Den.”
Reina raised her brows. “Of course she would.”
“So, she came after Cameron.” Jarvis’s face hardened, and she could see the pain as he began to drift back to the past. “We were playing hide-and-seek in the woods. It was easy for me to find him because the animals always gravitated toward him and gave him away. He could never find me.” His fists tightened. “I was hiding in the trees when Angelica passed beneath me. She was heading right for Cameron, and I heard her talking to one of her apprentices about harvesting Cameron.”
Reina saw the anguish in his eyes and knew what he had been feeling. That moment of knowing that someone you loved was about to die, and you were all that stood between them and death. “And so you stopped her.”
“I tried. I dropped out of the tree on top of her with my sword. Hit her right between the shoulders.” He shook his head, as if trying to shake away the memory. “The hate took her, and she focused it on me. Hated me with a fucking passion.”
Reina could imagine what Angelica became when infused with hate. “She tried to kill you.”
“No. She decided to hurt me.” His voice was flat, but she saw the bead of sweat on his brow.
Her heart tightened. “You were only six.”
“I was only six.” Anger laced his voice. “I couldn’t beat her. Never could.”
Reina slipped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest. His heart was thundering, as if he were back in that moment, fighting for his life again.
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. “I knocked her out. Had my opportunity to escape.” His body tensed, and his voice changed. Softened. “And then I saw Cameron watching. He was in a tree, sitting there butt naked, in plain sight.”