Bad Moon Rising (Dark-Hunter #18)(24)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

The shaving was a little harder than the bathing. He’d never quite gotten the hang of it on his best day.

Hissing, he flinched as he cut his chin.

Aimee was there immediately. "What happened?"

Surprised, he frowned. Had she been listening in on him? "I cut myself."

She grimaced at the sight of the pooling blood. She grabbed a piece of tissue and covered it. "Goodness, wolf. Can’t I leave you alone for three seconds?"

"I never could do this sh-stuff right."

She took the razor from him and carefully raked it over his cheek. "It’s not that hard."

He waited until she pulled the razor away to rinse it before he spoke. "And again, I ask you how it is you’re so good at shaving men."

She laughed. "I’m a bear and I have a lot more area to shave than just the face."

He arched a brow at that, then tilted his head to look at her legs as if trying to imagine what they looked like underneath her jeans. "Yeah, you do."

Aimee took his chin in her hand and forced him to lean his head back so that she could shave his neck. Her gaze slid down his ripped muscles to where his erection was plainly visible in the water. Heat covered her cheeks. While she might be comfortable with his nudity, that was another matter entirely. And it was something she’d never seen before.

Since she’d never felt the quickening, she’d never mated with a male. Not that she was naive or uneducated about what males and females did. She knew all the nuances of sex as her brothers felt more than free to share the most embarrassing facts of their premarital exploits, but . . .

She’d never experienced it herself.

And until Fang she’d never really been all that curious about what she’d been missing. But now she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to taste Fang. What he would feel like inside her. Even though he was fierce, she knew he’d be gentle. Loving.

Forcing her attention back to his neck, she admired the perfect curves that made up his jawline. He really was a gorgeous man. Even emaciated and worn.

Focus, Aimee.

The problem was, she was focused. Just not on what she needed to be focused on.

Fang licked his lips as she finished shaving him. He tried to keep his hands over the stiff part of himself and he hoped to the gods that she wasn’t able to see it. But it was hard and he was in excruciating pain over it.

Pulling away, she put the razor up on the sink. "I know you’re not helpless, but do you need me to help dry you off?"

The mere offer of it made his c**k jerk in expectation. "Um, no, I think I can do it."

"You sure?"

He felt himself harden even more. "Pretty much. Yes."

"All right. Can you use your powers to take you back to bed while I clean up in here real quick?"

And keep her from seeing just how bad he wanted a taste of her? "Absolutely."

She frowned at the word that had come out as a strange squeak. "Are you okay?"

Fang cursed silently at himself. "Fine." Or at least as fine as a man dying of unsated testosterone poisoning could be.

She gave him a suspicious scowl. "You don’t seem fine. You seem a bit agitated."

"Absolutely great." He flashed himself out of there so fast that he forgot to dry off.

He cursed as he realized what a mess he’d made of his bed. Growling at himself, he used his powers to set everything to rights before he conjured a pair of flannel pajama bottoms for himself. But they did nothing to hide his erection that now formed a solid tent at his crotch.

Put her out of your mind.

Yeah, right. Her touch was as branded on his senses as her scent and there was no relief in sight.

Kill me. . . .

He sighed and forced himself to turn over. But the moment he did, he felt a powerful shift in the air. One that could only herald the arrival of an extremely powerful entity.

Ready to battle, he crouched in the bed to find Thorn standing just inside the door.

"What are you doing here?"

Thorn gave him a piercing glare. "It’s time for you to earn your keep, wolf. You ready?"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Earn my keep?" Fang said slowly to Thorn, enunciating every word just so that there was no miscommunication. "Are you out of your f**king mind? I just got back and I can barely stand on my own. What do you want me to do? Bleed on them?"

Thorn laughed. "You sound rather robust to me."

Whatever. The man was high if he thought for even one second that Fang could do much more than what he was currently doing. Sitting. Thorn definitely had to be on something.

Fang leaned back on the bed to glare at him. "What do you want exactly?"

"An end to the mistreatment of small, fluffy dust bunnies. But that doesn’t seem feasible at present, so in lieu of that I want you to know that while Xedrix and company may have assisted you and Aimee, they are still demons to be watched and executed if need be."

Yeah, that really sounded like something he was raring to do. Sign him up . . . never. "Why aren’t you sending them back to Kalosis if they’re such a problem?"

He looked extremely disappointed. "They don’t really fall under my jurisdiction. Charonte demons are a different entity and have a separate pantheon they answer to. It doesn’t mean we turn a complete blind eye to them, but so long as they take it easy on humanity-which means they’re eating the corrupt and not decent upstanding citizens, and their gods keep them in check, we don’t worry about them . . . much."

Thorn manifested a five-by-seven photo and handed it to him. It was of a man in his early twenties whose heart had been torn out of his chest. "This, on the other hand, is what concerns us. Or more to the point, me and thereby you as default."

While gruesome, it was a scene Fang had seen several times since coming to New Orleans. "It looks like a typical voodoo sacrifice."

"Well, slap my ass and call me Sally if you’re not bright. It is part of a summoning ritual for a Grand Laruae."

That was a term a wolfwere didn’t hear every day. In fact, he had heard of it never. "A what?"

Thorn’s features were completely impassive. "Badass demon with a superiority complex who picks his teeth with the bones of infants. Let’s just keep it simple and say he’s a demon I want out of the human realm. ASAP."

"And why can’t you go after him?"

Thorn looked extremely perturbed by his question. "That’s a long story for one night when I’m under-the-table drunk. In the meantime, the shortest and simplest version is politics, which really chafes my ass. Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do. In fact, I’d like nothing better than pinning this bastard’s warted hide to the nearest tree, preferably an oak one . . . but let’s not go there. Unfortunately, I, personally, can’t touch him without war breaking out."

He indicated the photo with a jerk of his chin. "Phrixis has taken out some of my best people over the centuries and I’d give anything short of my soul to put him out of commission once and for all."

Fang looked down at the face of the kid in the photo. His features were contorted by fear. Poor kid hadn’t stood a chance and that set off his own anger. One thing Fang had never been able to stomach. A bully. Thorn was right. This ass**le needed to be stopped.

Thorn pinned him with a lethal stare. "You, my little loup-garou, are the best weapon in this battle since our VD maven won’t see you coming and neither will Phrixis."

"What about the priestess?" he asked since Thorn had brought her up. "What do you want me to do where she’s concerned?"

"Her, I’ll take care of. There’s no treaty where she’s concerned so I have free rein to do with her as I will. Bitch going to rue the day she decided to unleash Phrixis on the world."

Fang arched his brow in amusement. Now there was a sentence you didn’t hear every day. "Rue the day?"

Thorn shrugged. "I’m old enough to make you look like an embryo. Sometimes it shows. You have twenty-four hours to find Phrixis or I’m sending you back to the Nether Realm."

That threat and his tone hit the wrong nerve. Fang glared at him. "Fuck you, ass**le."

Thorn’s eyes turned red. A deep, burning red that shimmered like running blood in the dim light. For some reason he couldn’t name, an image of Thorn in black armor with wings flashed through Fang’s mind. But it was gone so fast, he wasn’t sure what prompted it.

"I advise you against taking that tone with me, wolf. While I’m usually good at taming the beast inside me, I don’t always succeed. And you definitely don’t want to see that side of me. In fact, you should be grateful I’m giving you twenty-four hours. If you were whole and if this wasn’t your first target, I wouldn’t be so lenient."

"I don’t like taking orders."

"And I don’t like repeating myself." Thorn glanced at the door where Aimee had walked out before he pinned Fang with a merciless glower. "You offered your soul up to whomever could save Aimee. I answered and now I own you. Lock, stock, and soul. Do what you’re told, wolf, or you’ll both spend eternity in a place that makes the Nether Realm seem like Disneyland."

Fang’s hackles rose. He hated that tone and the threat, but Thorn was right. He’d been the one to make the bargain by his own free will and he would abide by it.

Even if it killed him. "You seriously lack people skills."

The red faded from Thorn’s eyes as a slow, insidious smile curved his lips. "And I flunked anger management the moment I put the counselor through a stone wall. You might want to keep that in mind."

Fang felt the muscle in his jaw working. "I can tell we’re going to get along like Batman and the Joker."

"Just remember one thing, wolf. I’m the best friend you’ll ever have or the last enemy you’ll ever make."

Because he wouldn’t live long enough to make another one. Thorn didn’t say those words, but his tone implied them.

He handed Fang another photograph and a piece of cloth that held the stench of demon. "That’s your target. Make me not regret saving you."

Fang started to flip him off. Had he been stronger, he probably would have. But right now the idea of flying through a wall when he’d have to go chase down a demon didn’t seem like the wisest course of action.

Vane would be proud. The Nether Realm had finally taught him a modicum of self-preservation.

"When does my time start?"

"Ten minutes ago."

Fang snorted. "Thanks. That’s real generous of you."

Thorn seemed unperturbed by his sarcasm. "I should probably warn you that I’m not real big on fairness and I have a below-zero tolerance on most things. Do your job. Do it right and we won’t have any problems. Fuck up and I’ll most likely kill you. Fuck up bad enough and I’ll torture you first."

"Anything else I need to know?"

"Just this." Thorn reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. Before Fang could move, Thorn had him on his back in the bed with his palm pressed against his shoulder blade.

Fang cursed as his shoulder burned. It felt as if he were being branded. He tried to fight, but he couldn’t move. It was like something inhuman and unseen was holding him down. When Thorn finally released him, he saw that he wasn’t far off. The scent of burning flesh hung heavy in the air and on his shoulder was a round circle with ancient symbols.

Reaching to touch it, Fang hissed as he increased the pain of it. "What is that?"

"Protection from the lesser demons and from spells the mavens and warlocks might want to use on you once they realize you’re one of mine. Believe me, you’ll be grateful you have it."

Maybe when the stinging stopped, but right now he wanted to kick Thorn’s ass until that bastard hurt as much as he did. "Will it work on Phrixis?"

Thorn laughed. "You’re amusing." He stepped back and handed him a gold hilt. He flicked a ruby stone up and the blade extended three feet out. "This is your sword," he said in a tone implying Fang was less than intelligent. "You press the pointy end into the enemy. Try not to let him make eye contact with you and remember, he spits invisible poison."

"Oh, goody."

Thorn ignored the sarcasm as he pulled out a cell phone. "Call me when it’s over. Just press two and I’ll answer."

"And if I die?"

"I’ll know and I won’t be happy. Remember, wolf, I’m one of the few beings who can follow you into the afterworld and seriously f**k you up there. Don’t fail me."

"Important note taken. Thank you, Dr. Morbid."

Thorn inclined his head to him before he vanished.

Fang let out a deep sigh as he debated what to do. But there was no decision really. He had to get started chasing the demon and the clock was ticking.

Best to get out of here before Aimee returned.

He picked the locket up from his chest and held it in a tight fist. He would be back.

First he had duties.

Taking a deep breath, he dressed himself in jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket before he held the cloth to his nose and took a deep breath. With the demon’s stench choking him, he left to track it down.

Aimee paused as she entered Fang’s empty room. The white duvet was still rumpled and the pillows askew as if he’d just stepped away. "Fang?"