Burning Dawn (Angels of the Dark #3)(63)
Author: Gena Showalter

This was the perfect conversation opener with Thane, Elin thought. Exactly what she needed to kick off a discussion about his penis. She closed her eyes, concentrating, and mentally reached out to him.

Are you gonna stake the Scorgasms when we cream the Knock Knocks? she asked.

Silence.

Had she failed?

Hello, kulta. His voice was pure eroticism as it whispered through her, touching every cell. She yelped. Have you been drinking to celebrate your victory?

Yes.

And how many have you had?

Only six—teen. No bigs. In college, I could out-drink anyone. So…where are you, and what are you doing? Better question: What are you wearing?

I was fighting demons. Now I’m in the air, flying. And I’m wearing a robe.

Robes are for girls.

I agree. You should wear one from now on. I like the easy access they provide to all my favorite parts.

Liquid heat pooled between her legs. Can I ask you a question?

You just did, he replied.

Har-har.

Ask.

She…forgot what she’d planned to say. So, she went with the one she’d wondered about for weeks: Why can’t Adrian touch a female?

Why do you care? This time, there was a bit of bite to his tone.

Curiosity only.

Then I will assuage it. He killed his last two lovers.

Oh. Talk about a bummer.

Quite.

So…why did he kill? How?

He’s too strong. An accidental mauling.

Both times?

“Elin,” Bellorie said, her tone odd. “You must listen to me.”

“Not yet,” she muttered. Things were about to get interesting.

“Now.”

Hold on, she said to Thane, finally remembering what she’d wanted to talk to him about. But don’t go away because I have a very important revelation about your penis.

At first, he offered no response. Then he rasped, I’m still aching, kulta. Are you going to do something about it?

Yes! But all she said was Time will tell.

Tease.

I’m not sure how it happened, but, yes.

Another pause before he said, I like it.

Denying the urge to twirl Sound-of-Music-style, Elin blinked open her eyes and faced her friend.

Bellorie’s expression registered, and she frowned. The girl looked…off. Relaxed, yes, but also emotionless as she waved to the male standing beside her. He was tall and wide, stacked with muscle, and, okay, he was quite handsome. But thousands of tiny snakes slithered from his scalp, like living strands of hair, and that was a…mild deterrent.

“You must dance with him,” Bellorie finished.

Elin, Thane said, exasperated, and she jolted.

She extended her index finger to Bellorie and the male. “One sec.”

Question, she said to Thane. What kind of creature has snakes for hair?

A gorgon.

Oh, that’s right. Momma told me. But aren’t all gorgons female?

Mostly. But every century, a new male is born. He becomes king. Why?

Well, I believe I’m looking at this year’s contender for the crown.

You will walk away from him, Thane said, his voice now flat. Immediately.

Why? Her mother had told her…what? That male gorgons wielded some sort of special power? Yes! That was it. But what power? Something about…hypnosis?

“Elin,” Bellorie said again. “You must dance with him.”

Yup, definitely hypnosis. Her friend was in a daze, and as Elin met the gorgon’s gaze, intending to tell him to take a hike, her mind shut down.

“Female. Dance. Now,” he said, his voice low, quiet. Formidable in a way that left her defenseless.

Defenseless? No. Not me. Not anymore. But she couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t think of anything but him…and his arms wrapped around her. His eyes were golden, with striations of emerald. They were beautiful eyes. Freaky eyes. His pupils were nothing more than a thin black line that stretched from the top of his irises to the bottom.

And the snakes… They were currently focused on her, peering through her skin and muscle and into her soul.

She—

Would dance. Yes, she thought, as every muscle in her body went lax. That was an amazing idea.

The male led her out to the dance floor. Stalwart arms wrapped around her, just as she’d imagined, holding her close, guiding her into a sensual sway. The scent of sandalwood wafted to her nostrils. It was nice, but…wrong.

All of this was wrong.

“Kiss me,” the gorgon commanded.

“No, I—”

“You will kiss me.” He and his snakes stared at her.

No, she said again. Or tried to. She couldn’t work the denial past her lips.

His mouth pressed into hers, and she stiffened. He lifted his head to peer at her again. “You will like it.”

When he came down for another peck, she somehow found the strength to turn away. She wasn’t attracted to this man. Was she?

The music stopped abruptly. Laughter and chatter died. Silence reigned. As the crowd quickly parted, the gorgon straightened, widening the distance between them. He and his creepy snakes at last looked away, and Elin jolted into awareness, her mind suddenly whirling with a single question.

What. The. Crap?

Thane strode through the center of the crowd, and her knees almost buckled with relief—and instant, undeniable arousal. The male was a fantasy made flesh, and every desire she’d ever experienced for him came rushing back. Kiss. Taste. Touch.

Devour.

But he zeroed in on the gorgon, a murderous rage pulsing from him. When the two males were mere inches apart, Thane didn’t bother with words. He tugged Elin behind him and punched Gorgodude in the grille.

She gasped at the sheer display of violence, but she wasn’t horrified. She was, well, kind of turned on.

The creature fell to the floor, and Thane jumped on him, straddling his shoulders and pinning him down.

Then Thane went jackhammer, whaling, throwing one savage punch after another.

The gorgon never managed to engage a counterattack. Or a defense. Thane beat at him until he passed out.

“Thane,” Elin said, surprised at the huskiness of her voice. A voice that somehow penetrated his rage. “Forget him. Concentrate on me. I need you.”

He stopped abruptly, stood, and rounded on her.

Sweet mercy. His expression was pure aggression. He crossed his arms over his chest, an aggressive move. He braced his legs apart, an aggressive stance. But at least the blood on his skin and robe disappeared.

“You need me?” His tone was more than aggressive. It was hedonistic. Practically an invitation. One she accepted.

Elin launched into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.