Knocking him backwards.
She stilled, her eyes bright, filled with something he couldn’t decipher, but damn it looked a lot like desire.
His pointed ears flared back against the sides of his blue-black hair as that same feeling ran through him and had him contemplating letting her get close to him again so he could grab her and do something unthinkable.
Like kissing her.
His senses sparked, warning him that they were no longer alone as she came at him, as she gracefully pirouetted beneath the fumbling grab he made for her and swept her leg up. He blocked it and glanced at the other end of the alley. Bared fangs at the male demons gathered there. A sudden need to whisk her away from prying eyes shot through him, a fierce demand to be alone with her that he couldn’t deny.
He lunged for her, seized her left arm and teleported.
Landed halfway up a damned mountain in the middle of a blizzard.
Her little gasp delighted his ears, the all too brief flare of panic he sensed in her quickening his blood again to keep the cold at bay.
His eyes rapidly adjusted to the darkness, revealing her as snow swirled around them, catching in her red hair. Goosebumps broke out over her bare skin, there and gone in an instant as her flesh warmed beneath his grip.
She rallied quickly, smashed her free hand into his face and hit him hard enough to rattle his teeth. He blocked her second attempt to relocate his brain, tightened his hold on her wrist and glared at her.
She glared right back at him, her eyes glowing gold in the darkness.
What was she?
If he took a sip of her blood, he might be able to tell. Her blood would give him her powers for a short time, but there was also a danger it would mess with his own abilities, negating ones that were necessary to him.
For example, teleporting.
He didn’t want to be forced to walk down the mountain in a blizzard or risk freezing to death.
His gaze dropped to her throat. Still, it was tempting to have a little taste of her. A vein ticked wildly just above her collarbone, beckoned him and had his head growing hazy, thoughts spiralling together into a blur as hunger rode him hard.
Hartt pulled her towards him.
Against him.
The feel of her breasts pressing against his chest and the soft gasp that left her lips, fanning his face with her warm breath, had him dragging his gaze away from the tempting tick of her vein. He lifted it to lock with hers.
Her eyes sparked with fire as she gazed up into his.
“Tell me your name,” he husked, words he had meant to come out hard and commanding, but had instead come out unsettlingly soft.
“No,” she bit out, clearly not held by the same spell that entranced him.
Her golden irises darkened as her pupils devoured them.
Or maybe she was and she was just fighting it.
She tried to throw him, putting all her slender weight into it and almost managing it. He twisted away from her, wrapped his arm across her throat and hauled her back against his front, pressing them together.
One hell of a mistake.
She was all heat and softness against him, and it placed his mouth dangerously close to her throat. His fangs itched, mouth watering as hunger returned, as it goaded him into biting her.
“What is it you fear?” he murmured into her ear and she trembled, a delicious little shudder that he felt too. “Are you fae? Is your name power?”
It was a possibility. Some fae, such as succubi and incubi, guarded their true name like fiends because those who knew it could command them to do anything.
She growled, reached over her shoulder and grabbed him by his. She leaned forwards, pressing her backside against his groin, and threw him. His back hit the rocky ground and he grunted as snow burst outwards in all directions, some of it landing on top of his legs and arms. She brought her foot down and he rolled, narrowly avoiding being impaled by the pointed heel of her boot. He popped onto his feet and she glared at him as he dusted the snow from his thick tunic and trousers.
“You are not fae.” He looked her over again, circled her as she moved with him, keeping the distance between them steady. “You are something else.”
A flicker of fear crossed her features.
Interesting.
What species feared discovery?
He gazed into her bright eyes, at the dark powder she had streaked across them that resembled a mask. Perhaps it was one, a method of concealing her identity, but that didn’t feel quite right to him. It struck him that her reason for wearing it was psychological. The makeup was more like a shield for her—a method of protecting herself. Did she wear it to make herself appear more imposing to others? Or was it because it brought out the gold in her eyes when they glowed, giving her a dangerous vibe?
Or perhaps it was a dash of everything, including his first thought—that she wanted to hide who she was.
“I will not ask what you are if you tell me your name.” He held back his smile as she frowned at him.
“Why?” She slowly raked her gaze down him, pretending to be curious about him too, when she was blatantly anticipating his next move.
Or sizing him up for hers.
“Because you want to remember it when you kill me?” She launched at him and they tangled again, and again he pulled his punches, couldn’t quite bring himself to hurt her. She grabbed him by the front of his jacket and snarled in his face, “Newsflash, buddy, I’ll be the one killing you.”
“I only asked because I like to know the names of my enemies.” Although, her threat to kill him did have the fire she ignited in him blazing hotter. He blamed the darkness. It was trying to steal control and that part of him always took pleasure from pain, from violence.
Hartt managed to get hold of her again.
She kneed him hard between his legs.
He grimaced as pain shot through him, but didn’t double over or grunt in agony, something which made her look most dissatisfied.
When she tried to strike him while he was recovering, he grabbed her arm and twisted her, shoved her away from him and almost sent her toppling down the side of the mountain. She skidded on the snow as she leaned backwards, fighting for balance and to stop herself pitching forwards into a roll down the mountain. A muttered ripe curse burst from her lips as she landed on her backside in a deep patch of fresh powder that covered her lower half. She was on her feet again a heartbeat later and storming towards him, kicking snow in all directions as the wind whipped her scarlet hair around her face and her eyes flashed like fire.
“If I beat you, you will tell me your name.” He was done giving her a choice in the matter.
She launched at him, but he was ready for her, took the blow to the chest and reared back so she leaned forwards. Tipping them both off balance. He hooked his right leg around hers, seized her upper arms and twisted with her.
She landed hard in the snow, all stunning blood-red against white that roused his hunger to bite her again.
Hartt landed on top of her, was quick to shift his legs so he sat astride her hips and seize hold of her shoulders to pin her.
Admiration shot through him as she still didn’t give up. Even with his full weight on her, she struggled like a wild thing, kicking and clawing, forcing him to pin her harder. He shifted his feet, hooking them over her shins to stop her from kneeing him in the back. A mistake. She bucked against him instead, rubbing him in a way that had the temperature of his blood soaring to that of the sun.
Sweet gods.