Stone Cold Touch (The Dark Elements #2)(36)
Author: J. Lynn

“Then do something about it,” I whispered.

Roth lifted his head, and his pupils had stretched vertically. “Layla…” The way he spoke my name was like a benediction. “Please…”

My fingers curled helplessly as I stretched up, finally reaching him with my lips. Our mouths barely touched, but Roth shuddered and his grip around my wrists tightened.

And then he was on me.

It was as though the chains holding him back had snapped. Roth kissed me, and there wasn’t anything soft or sweet about the way his mouth worked mine. He moved my wrists to one hand, and his other hand slid down my arm and then down my side, under the hem of my camisole. His hand left a wake of fire as he moved it up the bare skin of my stomach and then farther up. I arched into the touch, and I got lost in that kiss, lost in the taste and feel of him that was so familiar it ached.

Then the kiss deepened, and the taste of him branded me from the inside out. His heart was slamming against mine. Our bodies fit together and moved, causing every cell in me to burn for more, to demand it. And Roth gave it. His h*ps rolled in ways that had me gasping in between the deep, soul-searing kisses. My legs curled around him.

“You feel too good,” he murmured against my mouth. A deep sound rumbled from him as he kissed me again. “You taste too good to be true.”

I really didn’t understand what that meant, but I wanted to touch him, to run my fingers over the ropey muscles of his back, to slip them under his loose jeans. I felt as if I was going to come out of my skin, like I had before…that night with him, which felt so very long ago, but this was right now and his body moved like sin.

Without warning, he was off me, and the bed shook when he flopped on his back. For a moment, I was too stunned to move, too caught up in the racing sensations playing across my skin.

Panting, I started to sit up and follow him. “Roth—”

“Don’t,” he said, raising a hand that trembled. “God, I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but don’t come closer. Don’t move.”

Without warning, he threw his legs off the bed and stood. Slowly rising up onto my elbows, I watched him stalk around the bed.

Roth thrust both of his hands through his hair and cursed low. Like a caged animal, he looked over at me. His eyes burned from a fire within.

I followed his gaze. My camisole was rucked up, past my bra. Before I could do anything to rectify it, he spun around and headed for the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, echoing throughout the loft.

Exhaling deeply, I fell back and squeezed my eyes shut. What just happened? It felt as though we’d both been on the same page, that we wanted the same thing. Didn’t we?

I rubbed my hands down my face and then tugged my shirt down. A couple of minutes passed, maybe longer, as I willed my body to calm down and my heart to slow. Roth had still not returned from the bathroom, and my face flamed an unholy shade of red when I wondered what he could possibly be doing in there.

The high was fading fast and all that logic and common sense I’d swept away like an annoying gnat was warring with the exhaustion creeping up on me. That little voice in the back of the head was getting louder, full of righteous humiliation, and threatening to bitch slap me in the face, but then the three demon kittens from Hell loped up over the foot of the bed. Prowling forward, their paws sinking into the covers, they eyed me as if I was a colorful, yet stupid, butterfly snared in a spider’s web.

I froze as they wiggled their way up to my side, and then frowned as they settled down into little balls that purred so loudly they vibrated the bed.

Somewhat dumbfounded, I stared at them as that little voice started up again, telling me to get up and to get the Hell out of this place before it was too late. But the hum of the kittens had a lulling effect, and, before I knew it, the distance between right now and later expanded.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I awoke to the soft flicker of candles and a pounding headache, slightly confused by my surroundings. It took me a few moments to realize where I was and what had happened in the strange room below the Palisades apartment.

Jackknifing up, I felt my heart race. There was a funny taste in the back of my mouth. Throwing off the covers, I was relieved to find that I wasn’t nak*d. I remembered coming here with Roth, talking to Cayman and the evil demon twins, and then the…

Oh God.

I remembered tasting the woman’s soul, the one who reminded me of a cupcake.

Oddly enough, the nausea that occupied the fading high from taking a soul was minimal. Just a slight unease of the stomach, but that was truly insignificant in comparison to everything else.

I scrambled from the bed, my eyes darting around Roth’s loft. On the edge of the bed, the small white kitten stretched out on its side. When it spotted me, it hissed. The black-and- white kitten sat on his piano. It stood, idly prowling across the keys. Each note the paws stroked was jarring. Out of the corner of my eyes, a shadow rushed in front of the glass wall, momentarily blocking out the moon and lights from the surrounding buildings. I whirled around, my heart in my throat.

Nothing was there.

My gaze fell to the bathroom door. It was open and it had been closed when I… Oh crap on a cracker, Roth. I’d thrown myself at him. Well, technically, I had knocked him over and straddled him. I had kissed him and he had kissed me back before stopping what I would’ve surely continued.

I placed a hand to my temple, wincing. In that moment, I wasn’t sure what was worse: molesting Roth and having him hide in the bathroom or that I’d tasted a soul.

I scanned the loft again, but I didn’t see Roth. My steps felt heavy, my legs disjointed. I found my shoes and hoodie next to my bag, the three items placed on a chair by the door. I didn’t even remember bringing my bag with me. I dug out my cell, tapping the screen. There were missed calls—two from Stacey and more than I could count from Zayne and my heart sank. Then I saw the time.

3:15 a.m.

“Oh shit,” I screeched, startling the kitten on the piano. The crashing of keys matched the tempo of my pulse. “Oh shit, shit, shit.”

I dug around for my wallet, finding it smashed between two notebooks. I’d need to get a cab. As I slid my phone back in my bag, I thought of the missed calls from Zayne. He had to have been panicked and he had to have thought… I couldn’t even let myself finish that thought. My hand shook as I wrapped it around the bag strap. I needed to call him, but I couldn’t focus on anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

Where was Roth?

It didn’t matter. He’d brought me here and he…he let me sleep for hours. A flash of anger shot through me, but how could I really blame him for this mess? I should’ve listened to my instincts, but I’d come with him. Then I’d danced with Sucky and Inky and, even though they had done something to me, I’d been the one to taste the woman’s soul. It was as though Roth had opened the door when he’d asked me to be bad with him, and I had bounced right on through it.

I’d gotten myself into this mess.

Walking to the door and opening it took a lot of energy. Outside his loft, the two hellhounds were sitting like sentries. Their ears perked up, but they didn’t turn toward me. As I eased past them, the muscles in their backs bulged in irregular humps. I held my breath, praying they didn’t eat me, until I made it to the end of the hallway and opened the door.

Half running, half sliding down the steps, I kept going until I heard high-pitched, mewling cries. Coming to a halt outside the door leading back the lobby, I froze. Wild laughter echoed through the stairwell, as did screams and moans.

What the…?

Backing up, I turned and spied the exit to the garage. Anywhere was better than going into the lobby or back into the bar, back into the madness without Roth. Or was he in the lobby, enjoying the party?

I pushed open the door, rushing through the dark garage and out into the streets. My thin sweater was no protection against the chilly air. I hugged myself and my bag close, barreling down the fog-covered streets. I suddenly thought about Jack the Ripper. Didn’t he always attack his victims on foggy London nights? Not that I couldn’t take out a serial killer, but still, the thought creeped me out.

I hurried on, eyes searching through the clouded streets for cabs. God, I was in so much trouble. I’d tasted a soul. My insides twisted with guilt and shame, and I told myself to stop thinking about it, because there was nothing I could do now.

But my skin crawled as I continued down the silent street. If I breathed too hard, inhaled too deeply, I could still taste her essence—frosted icing. I bit down on my lip until blood replaced the sugary sweetness. The pain did little to stop the rushing memory, the pleasure the soul had brought.

What had I done?

The withdrawals seemed not to have hit me yet and I deserved the sweats, chills, and the hunger that couldn’t be assuaged. I deserved that and much more.

All the buildings lining the streets were quiet and shadowed until I crossed a street and realized that one of the shadows had broken apart from the rest. It flitted along the pavement beside me, thicker and larger that my own slight shadow. The smell of sulfur replaced the musty smell of the nearby river.

I stopped.

The shadow stopped.

Ice drenched my veins as the smell of rotten eggs increased until my eyes burned.

Beside me, the shadow grew tall and slender, taking the form of a faceless figure made of dark smoke. The shadow raised its arms high in the air and bent to the side, lifting one leg up. The heavy fog retreated, as if it didn’t want to touch the abomination. Slowly, the shadow twirled around like the prima ballerina on the jewelry box that I never used.

Crap.

It was a shade—a demonic spirit. The kind that could possess weak humans and cause a whole lot of trouble.

A chilly laugh seemed to come from the shade, from the pavement and the buildings all at once. It surrounded me, raising the tiny hairs all over my body. I took a step back.

The shade stopped, lowering its leg to the ground. It placed smoky arms on what I assumed was its h*ps and did a happy little jig. Then it bowed, holding out a see-through hand to me. Flimsy fingers wiggled an invitation to dance.

More shades came to join the bizarre dance. Twirling and dipping around me, breaking up thick plumes of fog. They continued at dizzying speeds, beckoning me to join the melee. It reminded me of the twins and the moments I caught sight of fleshless faces in the club.

I so didn’t have time for this.

“Go away,” I urged. “I don’t want any of what you’re offering.”

They stopped, misty heads tipped to the side, except the original shade. It became thicker and more solid as the seconds past, body solidifying. Specks of ash began to fall from the sky, landing on my hands and in my hair, smelling of burnt flesh and evil.

“But we have time for you,” it said in a hoarse voice. “We know what you seek.”

Every instinct in me screamed to get away from these things, but I held my ground. “You do?”

The shade nodded and smoke wafted into the air. “You seek the Lilin but you do not seek it in the right place.”

“Gee, thanks for the clarification.”

It laughed and the sound shook the windows of the building behind us. “You seek too far. You need to look closer. Closer,” it cajoled. “The truth is far stranger than your wildest imaginings.”

Against my will, I leaned in, drawn by the smoky voice.

The misty face before me took form, two eyes burning red. A face full of squirming, round little things appeared. Maggots.

Screaming, I jerked back and then took off, my feet pounding along the sidewalk. The shades gave chase, running alongside me, laughing as I desperately tried to put distance between us. I could see street people, homeless who’d probably seen just about everything, scuttle back against the walls and the building, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

The shade with the maggot face pulled back, spinning into the sky above me. Air rushed over me as another shot forth. In the center of a smoky face, features melted together as though the face had been made out of dripping candle wax. They kept switching out, each reveal more disturbing than the last until the one who was nearly solid looked back at me with my own face.

I stumbled to a stop.

My own round eyes stared back at me, but they were different. The gray was split down the middle, like a cat’s eye—like my eyes did when I had shifted. My face hissed at me, revealing a mouth with no teeth, just maggots—more maggots.

Horrified, I couldn’t look away.

The maggots wiggled free, hitting the pavement with small little smacks. The shade with my face spoke. “In time you’ll see, you’re just like us, and we will all be free.”

The shade with my face floated back and I snapped out of it. Turning, I ran as fast I could.

The streets were empty. I darted across, daring a look back.

I slowed down, turning around. Sweat poured off me, stinging in the damp, cold air and my stomach twisted. There were no dancing shades. I looked down at my hand. Ash covered it.