The ache that had plagued me for the better part of the day was quickly building toward blinding pressure. Pressure that would only be released by feeding the demon. I needed more than the tiny bits of the anger, lust, and sadness I’d pulled from her. I needed something bigger. Something darker.
Sam stared. From the thick mist of orange lust swirling around her head and shoulders, it seemed like she’d push forward again, but to my relief—and disappointment—she didn’t. The spark in her eyes dimmed, and she moved sideways along the wall and toward the door, breath coming in jagged, uneven pulls.
When she spoke, her voice was low and sad. The anger was gone, replaced by nothing short of devastation. Despite the fact that we’d both wanted it, that kiss had been a mistake. As big a mistake as the one in the woods three years ago. “Now that was a good-bye.”
Fuck. I’d come out here to get closer to finding out who was trying to run her down, and instead I’d driven the space between us wider.
“Have a nice life, Jax.” She slipped back into the club, and even though every instinct screamed for me to follow, the thing inside prevented it. I was on fire. The demon’s need left me an exposed nerve, raw and bleeding. Taking from her had only further ignited the monster’s hunger. If I didn’t feed it something violent soon, it would take matters into its own hands. Or, rather, my hands.
I stumbled around the back corner of the building. Kissing Sam made the demon hungrier. My elation at being so close to her was a drain on the thing. I’d known better, and yet I’d done it anyway. Now someone else had to pay the price. Violence. The demon would take what it needed from some poor bastard and leave me stuffing back the guilt.
Sucking in a breath, I held it, trying to zero in on the strongest source of emotion. There was a banquet of lust and greed in the area, still lingering around the club, but something else caught my attention. A sweet scent that made the demon go wild with anticipation. It was coming from the east side of the building.
Twelve feet. Nine feet. Six. Four…
In the alley around the club, two men stood over another. The one on the ground was curled in a ball, unmoving, as his attackers kicked him and laughed. The demon rumbled, flashing nondescript images of blood and gore. This was the part I hated. It was also the part that the sickest side of me loved. Letting the hunger propel me, I started down the alley.
“What the fuck do you want, man?” the taller of the two snapped as I approached. The man squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest in an attempt to scare me off. Silly human. Arrogance rolled off the man in thick yellow waves. They mingled with the crimson ones, swirling together just above his head in an intoxicating combination that had the demon inside going crazy.
“This ain’t your concern. Move it along,” the other snapped. He, at least, had the intelligence to back away. The waves wafting from him were gray in color and reeked of fear.
I stopped a few feet away. The demon’s excitement hummed through my body as it flashed another image. Bloody and broken men.
Satisfaction—and a temporary peace—was within my grasp, but a sound shattered my concentration, forcing me to stop shy of following through. A far-off noise. The softest whisper of a plea for help. Sam.
I whirled around toward the club and held my breath, listening for the direction it’d come from. She was nowhere near the building; the sound echoed north slightly. The woods. She was in the woods.
The prey, so close at hand, was forgotten. The noise my boots made as they pounded the asphalt echoed like a bullhorn inside my head. Back around the building. Through the parking lot and across the street. A horn blared, bright lights zooming toward me. I jumped, kicking my feet up and pivoting so that my hip skimmed the hood. I landed gracefully on the other side, clearing traffic, as another sound came, this one from deeper in the woods. A single name called in desperation.
My name.
I followed the sound she made, stomping through the branches and dead leaves, and caught up to her as she changed direction, moving toward the cliffs. The wind kicked up, carrying the unexpected scent of sulfur. Demons? Two of them. And Sam.
One turned, wearing the guise of a tall man, letting go of her and stepping into my path, as the other continued. Blinded by anger, I collided with the other demon, sending us both careering into a nearby pine. We crashed into the trunk with jarring force.
I recovered, backing away as the other demon did the same. Stocky with a buzz cut, its individual smell was more potent than others I’d come across. More vile. It coated the back of my throat like foul syrup, nearly kicking in my gag reflex.
It smiled and snapped its teeth. In a voice that held the slightest rasp, it said, “Pathetic thing. You don’t possess the strength to take what’s not yours.”
The demon inside me scrambled with nearly blinding force to take control, and it was only as I lunged forward, aiming for the enemy’s neck, that it calmed a little. Normally I would have dragged it out, let the thing inside savor the violence, but there was no time to lose. A quick jab, and the other demon clutched its throat and went down hard, sputtering and gasping for air. I didn’t wait to finish it off.
The other one—also a demon from the smell of it—was just approaching the cliff with Sam when I caught up to them. The blond’s voice was cold and his eyes dead. “Turn around and walk back the way you came.”
“Jax…?” Sam’s voice didn’t wobble. She didn’t cower or cry. She was scared. Terrified. I could see my own emotion too, crimson rage leaking all around, calling to the demon. It bled into the air, haze drifting around my head like a miasma.
The demon moved. A twitch, really. But it was enough to spur me into action. Pushing forward, I sprinted toward them. Toward the edge of the cliff.
I was a foot away when the other demon brought its elbow back. It connected with Sam’s shoulder, sending her off balance.
She tumbled over the edge.
I jumped.
Chapter Ten
Sam
I saw Jax surge forward just before the entire world tipped backward and the solid ground beneath my feet disappeared. A valiant, although pointless, last-ditch effort to save me. My heartbeat thundered as I braced myself for the inevitable, taking comfort that there was little chance I’d drown in the waters below. The jagged edge of the cliff would get me long before I reached the bottom, breaking my body like a child’s toy.
A scream caught in my throat. The impact came—but there was no pain. One second I was watching the ground zoom steadily closer, icy wind biting at my exposed skin, the next everything shifted and I was staring up at the sky through a mass of tangled hair. Warm, solid arms enveloped me and a familiar scent—mint and leather—filled my nose as I plummeted.
“It’s going to be all right.”
It was going to be all right? Jax? A new kind of panic exploded in my chest. I’d seen him jump forward, but never imagined—
“Deep breath,” he yelled over the sound of the wind whipping past us.
Numb, I obeyed, and sucked in a lungful of cold air.
The noise was like a car backfiring. One second the clear night sky loomed overhead, the next everything had a filmy sheen. Jax took the brunt of the impact, but I still felt the jar and the sting of the icy water. Disoriented, I flailed, kicking hard in hopes of breaking the surface. Air. Can’t breathe! Every muscle stung. From the frigid temperature or the impact, I didn’t know. Didn’t care, either. All that mattered was air. Precious, glorious, necessary air.