Jenny reached across his body to work on the other arm, her breasts close and ripe. "It wasn't time for me to take her yet, anyway."
"Huh?" The other strap released, giving him blessed freedom.
"I tried to take her before, but she was too strong. When I'm ready"—Jenny smiled, tapping one finger on Mac's chin—"and I've made her weak, you're going to bring her to me."
A lock of her hair brushed Mac's arm, too intimate, too close. The strange fascination Jenny held for him snapped like old string. He lunged, his hands wrapping around her slim throat, bearing her down onto the bed.
"Let me go," he growled. "Whatever you've done, take it back."
Jenny gasped, then chuckled, daring him with her eyes. A thrill of revulsion curled his innards. Mac squeezed harder, desperate to silence that mocking laugh, sure the delicate architecture of her spine must snap.
She scrabbled for his hands, prying them apart with horrifying strength. Quick as a cat, she grabbed Mac's shoulders and pressed her mouth to his, thrusting deep with her tongue.
He suddenly knew he wasn't getting out of there alive.
This kiss was nothing like the first time. Her lips were cold, sweet as chilled melon, smooth as moonlight—and she was feeding him something. It was the stuff of life itself clinging to her tongue, slipping over his teeth and into his soul like a pearl of iced honey. He shuddered with an echo of release, as if on some other plane they were having mind-blowing sex.
Here, the orgasm was all about drinking life.
Within a moment all sickness vanished. His body surged with tingling energy. He was reborn, both the spirit and the warm, hard-bodied man. Reborn wholly and bestially ravenous.
She was feeding him her sweet evil.
Demon, he thought. He'd read about them, but now the word meant new things.
Powerful things.
Jenny kissed him again, and his entire being surged toward her with bloodthirsty greed, squandering itself for a taste of that cold elixir. As he begged with his body, with his lips, Jenny licked and sucked, consuming, teasing, devouring Mac's life force and poisoning him with her own, one delicious drop at a time.
That poison was his sole relief. He drank it down even as a dark vacuum blossomed inside him, leaving a damnation of hunger in place of his soul.
Demon!
Chapter 17
Holly woke from a bizarre dream about her big sister, Ashe, driving around in a tiny blue toy car. The car was about six inches long, but in the logic of dreams, her adult sibling fit in it just fine. If the image had significance, it was expertly disguised.
Odd, because Holly seldom dreamed about her family. She and Ashe rarely even spoke.
Rising from her bed, Holly stopped in surprise, her foot halfway into her mule slipper. She never went to bed without getting undressed, and yet she still wore the little black dress from last night. With morning-after-the-night-before paranoia, she began checking herself over, stomach knotting at what she might discover.
The charm bag had wound its way around so it was hanging down her back. When did I put that on? It looked a little deflated, but she had been lying on it.
Holly gazed into the mirror, contemplating the Dalfesque ruin of her makeup. She had raccoon eyes from not-quite-waterproof mascara. Her hair was doing the bed-head thing. Otherwise she was fine. Weird.
Was I drunk? No, if she'd had that much to drink she'd feel sick. Had Mac slipped something into her drink? That didn't seem likely, but everything after dinner was a blank.
This had happened once before, after that big-M spell went bad when she was a kid. The spell that she and Ashe had done. Maybe that's why I was dreaming about her. Something similar happened. Except then a whole year had disappeared. This time she was missing only a few hours. And it tasted different in her mind, a mustiness she couldn't quite place. Not the same, then.
She looked out the window. Her car was in the driveway, paint intact, everything normal. Double weird.
Wheeling away, she went to take a shower. I have to shake this mood. It was the first day of school. Remember? The cute boyfriend, the college degree, the successful business? Time to go for your goals.
Yeah, right. Goals seemed laughably out of reach. She'd settle for twenty-four hours of something approaching a normal life.
When she was dressed, she phoned Grandma.
"I had a blackout," Holly began.
"So either your detective is a real keeper or a complete bore. Wake up with anybody you didn't recognize?"
Great. The bad-old-lady routine. "No. I woke up in my own bed, fully dressed, alone."
"Where's the fun in that?" She heard Grandma exhale smoke. "Get a life, girl."
"I'm serious. I don't remember leaving Mac's place, or driving home, or anything after we finished eating."
Grandma's voice dropped, becoming serious. "How do you feel?"
"Fine. Tired, but injury-free and unmolested." And blue, she added silently.
Kibs jumped up on the table, pushing his head under her hand. She petted him absently, scratching under the white bib of his chin.
"Were you wearing one of the charms I gave you?" Grandma asked.
"Yup. I was wearing it when I woke up."
She heard Grandma's breath release. "Then I wouldn't worry. You warded the whole house yesterday, more work than you're used to doing. Stretching your magic has resulted in memory loss before. You probably just pulled a muscle in your interior spell factory."
"You think so? That's a pretty poor performance."
"Well, you're not used to doing that sort of thing, are you? It takes practice."
The hearty note in Grandma's voice didn't fool her. A blackout of any kind was serious, but they'd been down this road before. The holes in Holly's memory had always been a mystery. No medicine or magic had ever helped. Now that she felt fine, it seemed almost pointless to bring it up.
"What should I do?" Holly asked, more because she wanted comfort than anything else.
She wasn't going to get any. "Stop worrying and go do something useful. I'm busy hunting down demon prophylactics."
Demon prophylactics? "Antidemon spell" sounds so much better. "Is there any way of getting back my memory of last night?"
"Probably not, and playing with memory is dangerous. Is it that important?"
Frustration nipped at her. "I keep feeling like there's something I should be taking care of. Something urgent."
"Like what?"
"I haven't a clue."
"Does it have to do with your first day at the university?"
"Could be. I'm not sure."
"Wouldn't surprise me. You've got a lot to think about, especially right now," Grandma said grimly. "Adult students have more on their plates, you know. There's stress even without the demons."
Holly sighed. "I just wish I could do something about the demon."
"Like what?"
"Anything. I'm still not a hundred percent about going to school with this thing on the loose. If you want, I could pick up the reading lists and then come over and give you a hand."
Grandma made an exasperated noise. "Go. Be educated. There's nothing you can really do to help me today. I can re-search faster without you hovering, and I'll feel better knowing you're in a public place. Most demons prefer the old classic dark alleys."
At first, Macmillan wasn't sure where he was. Nothing made sense until he felt the sheet drag across his skin, and then the soft brush of a female knee over his thigh. She was with him in his bed, in his home.