The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(75)
Author: Gena Showalter

"Tell me what you know about the Eye," a demon purred at his side.

The Hunter trembled, remaining silent.

Laughing, the demon began clawing at his skin, ripping it to ribbons. He screamed over and over, the demon continuing to laugh, and soon her screams joined the chorus.

"I’m here, angel. I’m here."

Reyes’s voice pierced her mind and jerked her from the dream. Sweat poured from her body. She couldn’t quite catch her breath. Reyes held her, and she burrowed against him, his strength trickling into her.

"What happened?" he asked, stroking her back.

"I saw a demon torturing the man I killed, and demanding to know about me. Just hold me," she pleaded. In the morning, she would sketch what she had seen. Right now, she simply needed her man. Maybe I am the Eye. Maybe I can see directly into the afterlife. The nightmares had always felt real. Made sense, she supposed, that they would be.

God, the thought of that…sickened her.

Reyes’s arms tightened around her. His fingers traced patterns along her spine. Several minutes passed, and she began to relax. Her sense of rightness returned, the bad stuff giving way to good.

Funny that it had taken a demon to chase her nightmares away, she mused as she drifted to a peaceful sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MORNING ARRIVED, but the motel room showed no sign of it. Sunlight didn’t seep past the taped-together curtains covering the only window and Reyes must have unplugged the clock, because there were no bright red numbers alerting her to the time.

Danika’s eyelids opened slowly. The scent of coffee wafted to her, a summoning finger she couldn’t resist, and she eased up. The cotton sheet fell to her waist, baring her br**sts to the cool air.

Shivering, she gripped the material and snatched it up to her chin. All the while her gaze circled the small area. Reyes was no longer in bed. His clothes were gone from the floor.

Where had he –

The door opened before she could work up a good steam, finally allowing a flood of bright light inside.

Danika blinked against it, even held up a hand to cover her now-watering eyes.

"Good. You’re awake," Reyes said, shutting the door.

Since the light had been successfully chased away by shadows, she allowed her hand to fall to her side, her hungry gaze seeking the man who had given her so much pleasure last night – the man who had not let her give him the same.

He stopped beside the table, and she noticed he held a small sack in his hand. "Breakfast is on the table. I am sorry the selection is poor, but I shopped here, at the motel, so that I could watch our door and ensure your safety."

She tore her gaze from him – hardest thing ever – and looked at the table. A cup of coffee, three candy bars and a bag of chips awaited her. "That’s perfect," she said, and she meant it. Not because she liked those items but because he’d gone to so much trouble for her. Her stomach rumbled. "What’s in the bag?"

"A shirt," he said, offering no more.

What was with him? He was acting distant again, as if last night hadn’t happened. Lids narrowed, she swung her attention back to him. Over the past few days, she’d noticed he changed T-shirts at least three times a day. She thought she knew why. He didn’t want her to see dried blood on the material.

To have bought one this morning meant he must have cut himself. Again.

"Take off your shirt," she told him.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He strode to the bathroom, throwing over his shoulder, "Eat, shower, dress. We see your family today."

Her heart leapt at the thought, betraying the nervousness she’d denied last night, as well as excitement. Were they happy? Did they miss her as intensely as she missed them? Why had they gotten together and not included her?

Shoving those questions aside for the moment, Danika catapulted off the bed and raced for the bathroom. Naked, she twisted, spread her arms and clutched the frame, blocking Reyes just as he tried to enter.

He stopped a whisper away from her. Her ni**les instantly hardened, reaching for him. His mouth, his touch. That fragrance of sandalwood that seemed to follow him no matter the time of day or what he’d been doing, enveloped her.

She licked her lips. "Take off your shirt."

His dark gaze locked on her, hot as it slid down…down…Her skin erupted in those delicious goose bumps, and her legs trembled.

"You have the most delectable little body I’ve ever seen," he said hotly.

"Th-thank you. Now the shirt. You won’t be able to distract me."

His free hand latched on to the frame, just under hers, as if he needed to hold on to something. The wood cracked beneath his grip, though he tried to maintain a casual expression. "I know why you are so cold all the time."

"I said you can’t distract me. Besides, I’m not cold all the time. I can recall two instances when I was nearly burned alive."

His lips twitched, even while the heat in his gaze intensified. "No, not all the time."

"Why, then? Because the air is cold?"

At her dry tone, the twitching became a full grin. Every nerve ending in her body sparked, shooting her full of electricity and warmth. That smile, oh, that smile. As heady as his caresses.

"You are a portal to both the heavens and the underworld." He leaned down…down…his lips brushed her ear.

She shivered.

"At times, your spirit connects with the hereafter, pulling images into your mind."

She shook her head in disbelief. "If that were true, I would have been cold my entire life. But I didn’t experience that bone-numbing sensation until after I met you."

"I must be a – " he closed his eyes for a moment, obviously searching for the correct word " – conduit for you, then. Every time I’m with you, I fly to the heavens."

Now she grinned. "That just means I’m a better lover than I ever realized." First they thought she was some All-Seeing Eye. Now a portal? Hello, I’m just a normal – albeit somewhat insane – girl.

At least, that was her prayer. She didn’t want to be anything more. She didn’t want people chasing her for the rest of her – short? – life. She deserved rest and relaxation, damn it. With Reyes. They could travel to a beach, laze on the white sand, and he could pretend to be her massage therapist.

"With training, you could probably learn to control your visions. Decide where to visit, heaven or hell. Decide how long to stay, who to watch."

By the middle of his speech, she was shaking her head. Sweat had broken out over her body, yet the chill had returned to her blood. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I want you to take off your goddamn shirt!"