“Den we’re even and so we can begin again—and ye only emptied da cradle. Dat was but a few of me newest warriors ye ended, na even close ta all o’ dem. Ye can na drown da fire wi’out me. Ye feel it now? ’Tis na cold between ye and me—’tis fire.”
He’s right; the closer he gets to me, the warmer it becomes between us. He sits on the sheet as I draw up my legs away from him. The bed sags under his weight. He’s really here in my dream. He has a physical presence; he’s not just a ghostly shape, but is as real as I am.
Barely breathing, I watch him reach for my sheet, tugging it lightly so that I have to clutch it to keep myself covered. The supple fabric trails over my flesh anyway, feeding his hungry eyes. I pull harder on it, but Brennus flicks his hands and my arms splay wide and are tied behind me to the headboard of the bed.
My eyes narrow as I glare at him, feeling the sheet slip lower on my breasts as I struggle against the binding on my wrists.
Brennus’ eyes go from sultry to frustrated when he pulls the sheet lower only to find me fully clothed in a baggy t-shirt and jeans, brought about by my hastily cast spell. Smirking at him, he pouts as he looks into my eyes. I rub my wrist that I unbound using my own magic.
“Dat’s no fun, Genevieve.” He flicks his hand at me, and when I look down at myself I’m attired in a silky black corset pulled tight enough to crack my ribs. Skimpy black panties and black-gartered stockings complete the ensemble.
He reaches for me, but I growl and flick my hand at him. He is thrust backward to the wooden poster of the bed. His hands are bound behind him and a metal manacle around his throat keeps his head from turning away from me.
“Is that fun?” I ask, getting up off the bed and approaching him with my hands on my corseted hips.
“Honestly?” he asks me with a raise of his eyebrow. “’Tis, mo chroí.” Then he smiles his wicked smile that touches me everywhere. I conjure a black trench coat and hastily tie the belt at my waist.
I turn away from him, not wanting him to see how he affects me; the ache to touch him is there, just under the surface. Brennus’ arms slip around my waist from behind, startling me, not only because he freed himself from my spell, but also because his arms are warm against me, not cold. They cause a riot inside of me.
“Brennus,” his name falls from my lips in surprise.
“Do na fight me, Genevieve. I have someting important ta tell ye and it can na wait.”
I allow him to hug me as I grow still. “What do you need to tell me?” I know him, he’s calm on the outside, but his voice betrays something...it sounds like concern—deep concern.
“I was wrong about ye,” he brushes my hair away from my neck, breathing in the scent of it.
“This is bad. You rarely admit to being wrong.”
“And ye’re very stubborn. Ye rarely relent ta listen ta yer demon, unless ye need him...and ye do,” he says, running his fingertips over the curve of my throat.
“You’re my demon?” I ask.
“I am,” he affirms. “Yers and no other’s.”
“You keep shifting on me, demon, and I can’t keep you happy,” I wait for him to coil in retort, but he doesn’t. “You’re ruthless.”
“Yer love is ruthless,” he breathes against my cheek. “Hush, now. We can argue about it later. I was wrong ta tink ye’re like Persephone,” he admits as he explains. “Dat portrait blinded me ta whah ye are. Dere is another name dat suits ye better.” He turns me around so that he can look into my eyes. His green eyes shine with ancient fire. “Ye’ve begun a havoc in Sheol. ’Tis yer face,” he uses his thumb to rub my cheek tenderly. “Beauty wi’ grace. ’Tis a face worthy of launching a tousand ships. Ye’re na Persephone atall ta da ones dat hunt ye now...ye’re Helen.”
“What?” my voice shakes as I whisper.
“’Twas Finn who learned da truth—Molly really. She has developed a taste for Fallen. She attracts dem with a certain skill. ’Tis her air of innocence dat draws dem in. ’Tis like milk and honey ta dem. She stumbled across quite an interesting bird.”
“Interesting how?” I ask.
“One dat knew a great deal about ye.” His eyes are a slow burn as he watches me. “’Twas Finn dat made him elaborate on whah he knew.”
“Which is?” I murmur, feeling all the blood draining away from my cheeks.
“We were wrong when we tought dat ye’re da only hybrid human-angel.”
“I know I’m not the only one—there’s Russell...”
He slowly shakes his head at me. “I’m na speaking of da other. Sheol has found a way ta create deir own version of yer kind...and dey want ye ta meet him. Ye’re very special, Genevieve, special in that ye’re still the only one—da only female.”
“How can you be sure your source wasn’t lying?” The need to deny what he’s telling me is so strong that I can taste the fear on my tongue.
“Our source was interrogated by Finn. He told Finn anyting he wanted ta know just for the pleasure of his touch.”
“What does this mean?” I ask as my hands rest against his chest for support. I feel like my legs might give out on me at any moment. “What do they want?”
“Yer enemies, da Fallen, have decided dat ye’re worth a war. Dey’re gathering da means ta wage dat war. Every demon is now deciding whether dey’ll play a part.”
“And what part do you intend to play?” I ask.
His neck bends and his lips hover inches from mine. “The part that allows us ta survive, of course. Da Fallen would like ta introduce ye ta deir spawn. Dat does na fit inta me plans.”
“What if the price becomes too high,” I wonder aloud, “for your plans?”
“Ye have me marrow in yer bones, mo chroí. And I’ve yers. I will lay down me life ta protect ye,” he promises. “We have ta strike a truce. I can na fight ye and dem, too.”
“I don’t trust you. There can be no truce.”
“I’ll love ye in yer dreams until ye do,” he says in a husky voice. “’Tis yers ta decide. Do I have ye in da day or in da night? Either way, I will have ye.”
Brennus lowers his head then, kissing me roughly and causing an ache for him to spread inside of me. His hands entwine in my hair, keeping my lips to his. I shiver at the craving for him he generates with his intoxicating kisses. Stroking my hair, he murmurs against my lips, “I love ye, Genevieve. I’ll protect ye from yer nightmares.”
My twisting sense of fate abruptly ends when Reed’s voice whispers, “Evie,” breaking the fever growing within me.
“Evie...love?” Reed says again, less distant. My eyes flutter open to find Reed reclining next to me on our bed in our room. “Good morning,” he murmurs, brushing his lips to mine, but it’s not Reed that I taste on my tongue...it’s Brennus.
Stay wi’ me, Genevieve... I hear Brennus’ deep voice whisper in my mind before it fades away and is gone.
The darkness between my heart and my soul swells, pushing them further apart, making room for Brennus. I’m the light to his darkness. There’s no escape; he’s a part of me. I close my eyes. Pick a side, demon, I inwardly scold, speaking silently to my own black heart. His kiss was sweet like cinnamon...