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“Yeah, I meant it.” I pulled back a bit to look at her more fully. “Why? What do you need?”
“I need you.” She reached up and framed my face, bringing her lips to mine. I kissed her as I’d been starving to do since Lafitte’s and put as much feeling into the action as I could. Hanlen was special. She deserved to be treated as such.
When we came up for air, I pulled back again, one hand still firmly cupped around her neck, my thumb resting in the hollow of her throat. “Hanlen, I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’re vulnerable right now and you may not be thinking clearly.”
In answer, she rose from her chair and straddled me in mine, bringing my body to life. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Dev. I’m one-hundred-percent in my right mind right now. Am I sad? Hell, yes, I’m sad. And upset. Fucking enraged, really. But I’m also completely aware. I want you. No, Ineedyou.”
That was all I needed to hear. I took her lips again in a fiery kiss, letting my hands roam. She moved on my lap, nearly driving me insane. When I rose from the chair, she just wrapped herself around me, clinging tightly and never severing our connection. We touched nearly everywhere, and it was incredibly heady.
When I dropped her onto the mattress and stood back to look at her there, her hair spread around her in a fan of silk, her lips swollen and pouty, and her eyes full of lust, I had to rein myself in. She was divine. A rival to any of those I worshipped and paid homage to—no offense intended. I sent up a quick prayer to the lwas and great creator for any unintentional insult and vowed I’d give them an offering as soon as I got home. The blessings in my life right now were plenty, despite the tragedy that colored them.
I slowly stripped her, paying special attention to every inch of skin I revealed and reveling in the dips and curves of her form. There was so much strength in her body, yet she was soft in all the right places. My eyes and my hands couldn’t get enough. When she was in nothing but her black and tan lace bra and panties, I stood back. She propped herself on her elbows to peer at me, and I slowly pulled off my shirt.
I heard her intake of breath and saw her pupils dilate, and then she sat up and ran her fingertips across my skin, moving from right over my heart, across the opposite pectoral, and then back across my waist to my opposite hip.
“It’s . . . I have no words,” she said.
I looked down, seeing the tattoo I’d had done right after I lost Wren. It was a large albino python, its head resting over my heart, tongue tasting the world. The body ran over my shoulder and under my opposite arm, across my pec to my waist and hip, the tail dangling onto my upper thigh. It had taken nearly forty hours to complete but it was worth the pain and wait. Larken had actually helped. She’d spelled some ink so that the white and yellow would show and remain vivid on my darker skin tone, added an anti-possession and protection spell, and the artist had brought the serpent to life so vividly that he almost looked as if he were legitimately wrapped around my body and slithering across my torso. The shadows and three-dimensional realism of the snake were perfection.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she whispered. “The colors are so vivid, and it’s so incredibly realistic. It’s a good thing I don’t hate snakes.” She quirked a grin at me and then swept her fingertips over the scales again, causing goose bumps to erupt across my flesh.
“It’s a representation of Zombi, Marie Laveau’s pet snake. It’s also one of the animals she’s said to turn into now in spirit form. That, and a crow.”
“How appropriate,” she said and laid a gentle kiss on my navel, making me suck in a breath.
We stripped the rest of the way and took our time learning each other’s bodies. I couldn’t get enough of her. She was perfect, seemingly created just for me, and she tasted like the sweetest fruit, something I’d never get tired of indulging in. When I protected us, and we finally joined, I could only think that we fit like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle kept apart for a time, only to be reunited to complete a beautiful whole.
The sounds that filled the room were an erotic, musical score as we engaged in a dance as old as time. As sacred as any ritual I could complete in my temple—maybe more so. Lips and tongues and teeth, sampling, feasting. Devouring. There was a different kind of magic in this. A long-lasting, powerfully woven spell.
We shared our breaths, our bodies, oursoulsin a continued fervent frenzy of seeking hands and melded flesh. And when she arched and cried out my name for the second time, I followed her into bliss, knowing without a doubt that I wouldn’t let her go without a fight. Hanlen hadn’t been expected. She may have come to town amidst a flurry of death, but I knew one thing for certain: She reminded me what it was to be alive.
Chapter 15
“. . . waiting in the dark, waiting, waiting . . . Maybe you can stop him. I can’t.”
~Dennis Rader
Shaking, sweating, he watched his newest target, planning how to execute his scheme. It hadn’t been that long since he’d taken his last sacrifice and indulged in his unholy communion. The darkness inside him didn’t seem to care. He felt himself fading. Knew he needed to imbibe the sacred lifeforce to renew. He was twitchy, irritable, the dark craving within him growing with each moment that passed.
This one, this prey, had been picked for an entirely different reason. He just didn’t like them. There was no sexual attraction that lent itself to better sustenance like some of his earlier conquests. No good-deed goal for the greater good of the people as with the biker. No mercy like the old man. This was a bit of hatred, though that was pushing it, since he didn’t care or like them enough to attach that strong of a word to it.
Maybe he’d play with this one a bit. It went against his usual ritual, but this one might deserve a little pain before death. Before they gave him what he so richly deserved and offered up their life for his.
He felt his shadow-self shimmy in agreement. Yes, he’d take his time with this one. Draw it out, add some adrenaline to the font. Perhaps that would hold him over for longer this time. Maybe that’s what his sacrifices had been missing.
He looked across the way at his prey and smiled, imagining the fun to be had.
Ah, yes. Tonight would be the perfect time to start the game. The ideal time to play.
He stealthily made his way over and took them by surprise as usual, only this time he didn’t eradicate the senses. Hewantedthem to feel. He merely disabled them enough that he could overpower them and take control.
When they were positioned where he needed them, he began his dance. The fear in his sacrifice’s eyes was enough to give him a hard-on, but he willed it away. There were more important things to do right now. Later, he could slake his desires in another way. He needed to be in the moment right now, and that meant staying focused and not letting his lust control him.
“Do you know how special you are to have been chosen?” he asked, flipping the copper coin through his fingers, only to return it to his palm. “To be the vessel for my continued ascension?” he went on, watching as confusion overtook his prey’s expression. He almost wished he could ungag them and listen to the pointless pleading, the begging, the empty promises. But he needed to keep a low profile. This spot wasn’t ideal, and there were people around.
He dropped his bag and set up his temporary altar, placing the coin in a safe place for later, and removed his ritual blade from its sheath, holding it up to see it glinting in the low light. A shiver of excitement raced down his spine, and he approached his sacrifice where they lay.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m doing this. You would never understand, even if I tried to explain it to you. So, instead of idle chit-chat, what do you say we just get to work, hmm?” He held up the dagger. “I think I’ll start with your eyes. Eyes that looked where they shouldn’t. Eyes that judged. Yes, I think we’ll start there. And then . . . I will take your life. And your muffled screams will be the sweetest symphony to my feast.”
