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He rolled as he collapsed, taking her over with him onto her side, still joined, her head nestled against his cheek. In the shadow between their bodies, the pendant slipped to the pillow and glimmered with faint rainbows of color.

She closed her eyes as their heaving breaths synchronized and slowed. The slick stickiness of their skin sent fresh shivers through her with each inadvertent touch.

His hand drifted down her side, from shoulder to waist, and came to rest on her hip.

The quiver in her skin chased the caress, and she glanced down to follow the path.

The bleak lines on his hand lost themselves in the demon mark that traced her body from hip bone to thigh in whorls of deepest black.

Her possession was complete.

CHAPTER 9

Archer drifted on the rhythm of her breath, every facet of his being—plus a few the demon had loaned him—replete with male satisfaction. He couldn’t hold back a regretful groan when she eased away.

The green leaves reflected in her wide eyes. “Ready to pass judgment?”

He levered himself up on one elbow. “Mind-blowing. Staggering. Really, really good.”

Her lips twitched. “Thanks for the movie poster highlights, but . . .” She pointed.

He studied the quiescent reven. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “Maybe a little. Before. But I wasn’t really paying attention, since . . . Anyway, it doesn’t hurt now. Should it? Would that mean bad things? Or good?”

He remembered his own agony, heard the note of hope in her voice. “I don’t think pain is indicative either way. I just wondered how you felt.”

“Oh. Fine. No sudden urges to desecrate holy sites or spin my head around three-sixty.” She nibbled at her red lip. “Actually—who would’ve guessed?—this is more awkward than typical mornings-after. Since you’re not surreptitiously groping around for your monster axe, I take it my demon is one of the reformed, and you’re not going to kill me.”

At the reminder of the grim promise between them, he rolled to the side. If the talyan pairing hinted at in the old text was always born from this threat of execution, no wonder the bond had been broken. “Not reformed. Repentant. And I’m not entirely certain.”

She watched him warily as he gathered his boxers. “Not certain?”

“The pattern isn’t djinn. But it’s far more complex than any I’ve seen.” He invited her inspection by holding out his hand. The bold lines on his skin were hardly simplistic, but they couldn’t match the fractal patterning that spun out asymmetrically from the small of her back over her hips to wrap her upper thighs.

He wondered how intimately those delicate lines traced upward.

Before the thought showed up on his face, or other parts of him, he hastily added, “We’ll compare your mark to others on record, but guessing by the convoluted patterning, your demon is enigma-class.” That would explain her ability to confound him from the moment they’d met on the bridge with an unbound demon trailing behind her. “Enigma-class demons spawned the stories of riddlers like the Greek sphinx, who threatened to decimate a city if its question wasn’t answered.”

She leveled an inscrutable gaze on him, as if he weren’t as good at hiding his thoughts as he hoped. “My questions, answered or not, never resulted in consequences that dire.”

“Not before they didn’t.” He pulled on his boxers and jeans, then turned to face her. “Look at me. Tell me what you see.”

She studied him. “Muscles. Chest hair.”

“Look deeper.”

“Sweat. And a hickey that the demon is already healing. I’ll have to suck harder next time. If there is a next time.”

His breath caught. “Sera,” he said warningly, “what do you see past that?”

“A coldhearted bastard? I don’t know. What am I looking for?”

“My soul.”

The gentle curve of her lips, a half smile, teased him. “Do I get to see that along with the rest?”

“If you were djinn.” That extinguished her smile. “Djinn and angels can see souls. The teshuva lost the ability with their eviction from both other-realms.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what’s in your soul.”

“Good.” He finished dressing, brushing mulch off his trench coat. He’d tossed it aside without a single coherent thought. Well, Get naked now, might have gone through his head, but not the head that counted. Muttering, he checked the stowed axe. No more potentially fatal mistakes tonight.

When he turned back, Sera was also clothed, her coat balled in her lap. “So no euthanasia?”

“You still think I would?”

The faintest hint of color rose in her cheeks. “That’s not why I said yes.”

“You didn’t say yes. You said now.”

Her blush flared higher. “I’m liberated. Possessed, but liberated.”

“This is a good time to be alive,” he said with proper seriousness.

And surprised himself with the truth in his words. Another decidedly lethal turn in his thoughts. If anyone was in danger tonight, it wasn’t her.

In the lazy air, the scent of sex hung close. He took a few steps away to lean against a tree, leaving the daybed to her. But even from that careful distance, he still saw her swollen lips, the redness at the joining of her slender neck and shoulder where he’d set his teeth. His fingers itched to run through the tousled blond strands, where sweat and friction had knotted curls into her hair.

What had he done?

He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud, if softly, until she speared him with a glare. Her senses were sharper, thanks to the demon. He’d have to be more careful. Now. He snorted to himself, determinedly silent.

“It’s over then?” Her tone was more demand than question.

The words stung. “So it wasn’t mind-blowing for you too?”

Her previous blushes paled in comparison to this one. “I meant this possession of mine.”

“Ah. That.”

“That. The reason we’re here. The reason why we . . .” She gritted her teeth on whatever words threatened. “That was the reason we did it, right?”

He shifted. “We had to do something. I’ve never heard of a demon and its chosen dancing on the edge of the Veil so long and not ending up with a corpse and an unbound demon in search of another soul.”

She nodded, as if eager to explain away the night. “You said the chosen has to be rooted in this realm or risk being drawn into the other when the demon ascends. What better than drinks, dancing, and sex?”

“Usually it’s a lot of beer with whiskey chasers, a game of pool, and a fight in the parking lot.” When she wrinkled her nose, he shrugged. “All other demon-ridden have been male. And bloody knuckles have a way of reminding you what this world is about.”

“So it is done?”

He narrowed his eyes. “The reven, the sign you are possessed, is on you. With the demon bound to your flesh in this realm, you don’t need to fear being sucked back into hell.” As she’d said, only that danger had brought them together in the first place. “But you still have to master your changed senses, hone your abilities, test your limits.”

She bit her lip, bringing back the color. “So, not done?”

“Did you think you’d just walk away again?” A spurt of anger sharpened his voice more than he intended. They were talking about her deal with her demon, not what had happened within the confines of the daybed. “If you had died tonight, your soul would be forfeit. That still holds true. Like your demon, only in the fight can you hope for salvation.”

She flinched back with each pronouncement, and he realized he’d advanced on her, his voice rising with each step.