Silence, then his shoulder moved in what might have been a shrug. “I told you before; something about those two boys struck me as odd when I noticed them at the bar. So I decided to patrol the barrier just in case and heard the horses.”
Plausible, but I didn’t believe him. Rafael was the ruler here. It would’ve made more sense if he’d sent someone to check the barrier instead of going himself.
Just like it didn’t make sense that he’d come here now, by himself. Was he really trying to help me catch Ashton . . . or was he helping the Pureblood escape instead?
“Everyone says you’re a three-quarter demon,” I began in as casual a tone as I could manage. I was about to stomp on thin ice, but if Rafael meant me harm, I was screwed anyway. “That means one of your parents was a Pureblood. With a Pureblood for a parent, you must not hate them like the rest of us do. In fact, I’ve often wondered—what do you feed on? Regular food, or something else?” Like Partials, my tone implied.
A derisive snort escaped him. “I don’t feed on what you’re thinking, my sweet, or I would’ve eaten my fill of you years ago.”
“Maybe I’m not your type,” I murmured.
This time, laughter floated over to me before the caress of his words. “Oh, you’re exactly my type, Mara.”
A tremor ran through me. He’d projected only stern aloofness the night we’d met, telling me who he was and forbidding me from returning to Nocturna while I was still a teenager. Once I’d returned at twenty to backtrack over my family’s long-cold search for Gloria’s kidnapper, however, Rafael had made his interest clear. I’d managed to hold him at arm’s length despite my attraction, but maybe I’d been going about this all wrong. What if all the answers I sought about Ashton and trafficking Purebloods could be found by going through Rafael, instead of around him?
“I’m cold,” I said, deliberately giving a light shudder. It was true; my jacket had come untangled from my waist sometime during my wild ride, and my sleeveless blouse and denim skirt weren’t proper outdoor wear for these temperatures.
“I don’t think the two of us can find him, so will you send a patrol out?” I continued. “Right now I want nothing more than to go back to Bonecrushers and have a tall mug of hot beer.”
He came closer, almost near enough for me to see the faultless hollows and contours of his face. “I’ll send a patrol, but they might be looking for a ghost. Are you sure you saw the same boy from that night?”
Ashton’s face flashed in my mind: black hair cut close, slightly crooked nose, brown eyes, and an easy smile. I’d only glimpsed him for a second, but I had no doubt. It was him. He wasn’t a ghost born out of my guilty conscience.
“If I’m wrong, your patrol spends a boring several hours stomping through the woods. If I’m right, you might catch a Pureblood. What’s to lose?”
He inclined his head. “Very true.”
Then Rafael leapt onto the back of my horse, the animal’s grunt the only noise from his movement. “Climb up,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’ll ride back together, and then I’ll send some men out.”
I slid my hand into his even as my plan finalized in my mind. It was far-fetched, yes, and it might get me killed, but if I succeeded . . . I’d find out exactly where the ruler of Nocturna stood regarding Purebloods.
“Hurry,” I told Rafael after he pulled me up and I settled myself against his chest.
His arms tightened around me as he spurred the horse forward at a brisk pace. I said nothing, grimly noting what had escaped me back when I was a terrified teen and I’d thought Rafael was the demon version of a knight in shining armor.
He could see well enough in the dark that he didn’t need to take the horse at a walk through the forest, like I had. The only other people I’d met who could see that well were Drew and Ashton. What if Rafael was more than a three-quarter demon? People only had his word that he wasn’t a Pureblood, but to my knowledge, no one had met either of Rafael’s parents to know for sure. He’d saved me from Drew several years ago, but maybe because Drew and Ashton had been hunting here without his permission, not because he bore the same animosity for Purebloods that all other Partials did.
If I was right, what I intended to do was akin to covering myself in meat before jumping into a lion’s den, but it also might be the quickest way to get to Ashton. All I had going for me was the hope that this lion wouldn’t see me coming.
Or that he’d turn out to be a vegetarian.
CHAPTER THREE
Rafael might prove to be a Pureblood in Partial’s clothing, but at least he saved me from a nasty confrontation with the owner of the horse I’d commandeered. When we rode up to Bonecrushers, a very beefy, very pissed-off Partial was describing to a group of onlookers all the different ways he’d beat the shit out of whoever had taken his ride. I’d have been forced to either shoot him to defend myself or take that beating, which, since I’d stolen his horse, most people in Nocturna would agree I deserved. But Beefy Angry Man went so abruptly silent when he saw Rafael astride his mount that it was all I could do not to laugh.
“Thanks for the loan,” Rafael said pleasantly as he climbed off, lifting me and setting me on my feet before I could jump off as well.
“Well . . . since it’s you . . .” the man sputtered. The onlookers, who’d hung around expecting to see an ass kicking, wisely decided to go back inside.
Who said demons couldn’t be civilized?
“Why don’t you get your beer and I’ll meet you after I’ve spoken to my men?” Rafael offered, still in the same pleasant tone with its I-dare-you-to-disagree undercurrent.
Since I’d said that was all I wanted, I was stuck now.
“Sure. I’ll, ah, see you at the bar.”
Ten minutes later, I pretended to be enraptured with my beer, but in reality, I strained to hear what Rafael was saying to Billy and several other of his men. Between the band and the noisy crowd, I probably only caught every fifth word. For all I knew, he could have been directing them to patrol the forest for Ashton . . . or telling them to gather up some extra firewood.
Didn’t matter. This might have been a half-assed plan, but it was the best I’d come up with, so I was seeing it through.
I was on my second pint when Rafael came over. The alcohol warmed away the chill from the past two hours; what’s more, it gave me an additional shot of courage. He only had to glance at the man on the stool next to me before the Partial dropped some coins on the bar and left. Rafael sat down, ordered another beer from the suddenly attentive bartender, and gave me a measuring look.
“The patrols have instructions to apprehend anyone they find in the woods and bring them to me.”
“Good,” I said, trying to sound appropriately grateful.
A small smile touched his mouth. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
That was more direct than I had been prepared for. I paused, casting about for a response.
“I’d like to,” I settled on at last, “but you didn’t seem to believe me when I told you I’d seen the Pureblood, so you could just be humoring me about the patrols.”
There. Just enough truth mixed in to—hopefully—get him to buy it.
Rafael lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “You pointed out that I have nothing to lose by believing you. If you don’t trust in my honor, Mara, at least trust in my practicality.”
“And you should trust that I can see,” I muttered before reminding myself that I wanted him to drop this topic. “Earlier you asked if I’d wanted you to miss me when I was gone. The answer is yes, I did.”
His brows went up at my abrupt change of subject, but then a dusting of lights appeared in his eyes. For once, I didn’t suppress the attraction I felt for him but let it rise to the surface, steeling myself for what I had to do. Then I stared into his dazzling cobalt gaze with a slow, inviting smile.
“Speechles
s?” I asked softly, echoing his teasing question from before.
Rafael’s hand slid across the bar to cover mine, those strong fingers stroking with smooth, sure touches.
“Perhaps.”
I didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t being honest, either, so who was I to criticize?
“That’s all right, we don’t need to talk,” I offered, trying to make my tone sound throaty and enticing. “But maybe we could go back to your house and you can show me what you’re thinking?”
According to everything I’d heard, Rafael didn’t bring women back to his home. Instead, he had a fancy little room set up at the Plaza de Souls for romantic trysts. It was all I could do not to hold my breath while I waited to see if my previous refusals would pay off and he’d break his routine to take me up on my offer.
The lights in his eyes began to brighten, like stars about to go supernova. Thanks to the genuine attraction I had to Rafael, I knew mine were probably also gleaming with tiny specks of brilliance. Humans didn’t know that the expression “eyes lighting up” originally referred to demons, or they might hesitate to use the phrase themselves.
“What’s behind your sudden change of heart?” Rafael asked, his voice low but filled with a tantalizing undercurrent.
I let my fingers twine with his, stroking over those ancient rings.
“I’m sick of being patient.”
That was the truth, even though Rafael didn’t know I wasn’t talking about jumping into bed with him. Either way, it seemed to be enough. His hand tightened on mine, pulling me to my feet, and then he began leading me toward the door. The crowd around us reacted by pulling back slightly, deference this rough bunch showed to no one except Rafael. By the time we reached the entrance to Bonecrushers, his black-and-gold carriage was already out in front, the driver staring ahead impassively.
One day I’d have to ask Rafael how he always managed to have his ride waiting for him, but tonight, that was last on my list of things I intended to find out.
“You’re sure?” he asked, drawing me close to whisper the question against my ear.
All those years of guilt-infused wondering, waiting, and wishing I would’ve acted differently were about to come to an end.
“Hell yes.”
He opened the door and I climbed up into the interior of the carriage. A single gas lantern provided dim lighting when Rafael shut the door behind him. He hadn’t taken a seat before the carriage lurched forward, but he managed to stay perfectly balanced even as my head thumped against the cushioned seat. The horses seemed to be as impatient as I was, but to my relief, the carriage didn’t turn around and head toward the Plaza de Souls. It went straight, the direction of Rafael’s home.
Part one of my plan accomplished.
Yet now that I’d put the first step in motion, some of my bravado faltered. Odds were I wouldn’t be able to pull this off without paying a price. Gloria’s face flashed in my mind, followed by my sister’s. Both images firmed my resolve. Whatever the cost, I’d see this through.
Besides, I was already in over my head; all I had left to find out was whether I could tread enough water to survive.
Rafael sat next to me instead of taking the bench across from mine. The single flame kept most of his face in shadows, but it highlighted the richness of his red-gold hair. Being this close to him, knowing what would come next, made my heart speed up. I took in a steadying breath and an enticing scent teased my nostrils. Odd, I’d never noticed before that Rafael wore cologne. Probably because there had always been so many people around every other time I’d been near him, except for the two instances when we’d been on the back of a smelly horse.
“Mara.” His voice was no louder than a sigh, but it raised goose bumps across my skin with its intensity. “Come to me.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. Many times over the past several years, I’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Rafael, even, if I was honest, going so far as closing my eyes and pretending former boyfriends were him during intimate moments. But this situation was nothing like how I’d fantasized. I had an agenda to accomplish, not a desire to fulfill.
Very slowly, I slid my hands up his vest, over his shirt, and to the collar of his jacket. Even through the layers of material, I could feel his heat and the firmness of his flesh. The lights in his eyes shone brighter while his mouth parted in the most sensual of smiles. Despite my unromantic intentions, tingling warmth swept over me. Rafael might have been a means to an end—and a treacherous one at that—but the reckless part of me still thrilled as he lowered his head. It was in my blood to find danger tempting, after all.
His mouth seared across mine, surprising me at the rush of sensations the contact caused. Before I could regroup and remind myself this was just a kiss, his tongue flicked along my lips, seeking entry. I opened my mouth, accepting the warm flesh that explored inside with knowing, sensual thoroughness. He tasted like spices and honey, a heady combination that incited me to draw on his tongue even though it was more than my act required.
He let out a muffled groan and pulled me closer, the pressure of his mouth increasing. Each stroke, flick, and probe of his tongue seemed designed to raze my detachment, centering me in the feel of him instead of my reasons for being there. His hand kneaded my neck, making it so easy to tilt my head back and let his arm support me. Then his kiss deepened even further, becoming more intense, until I began to feel dizzy. Need built inside me with no regard for my suspicions. I’d only meant to get a little turned on, but the throb that had taken up cadence below my waist was no halfhearted act. Maybe that was a good thing. No way would he believe I didn’t want him, not with how I couldn’t stop myself from pressing closer and moaning at the rough deliciousness of his kiss.
His arms almost crushed me to him when I slid my mouth down to his jaw and then to his throat. I couldn’t help it; his skin was unlike anything I’d felt. So smooth and silky, in such contrast to the hard, rippling muscles it covered. With his layers of clothes, I could see only the smallest bits of flesh peeking out from his face and neck. Naked, would his skin look as incredible all over his body? Have the same luscious suppleness on his arms, chest, stomach—and lower?
At the thought, that throb below my waist began to increase until it thrummed like a gong. As if he could sense it, Rafael yanked me onto his lap, the large, heated bulge in his pants pressing right against that demanding ache. Not even my gun belt jabbing me in the hip could distract me from the bomb of sensation that resulted, especially with the jostling carriage providing enough friction to throw gasoline onto the blaze of my desire. I was so caught up in the explosion of need that I didn’t notice he’d raised my skirt until it was well past my thigh.
Oh crap. I’d let this get out of hand in a hurry.
“Rafael,” I managed. “Wait.”
His hand dropped from my thigh, but he leaned back, still holding me to him with the other arm. I wasn’t even on the bench anymore; my body was draped over his instead of the cushioned seat. I sucked in a choked breath when he began to unbutton his vest and then his shirt, revealing inch by inch that his skin was just as gorgeous as I’d imagined.
Get focused, Mara, you’re blowing this! I railed at myself. If only the carriage didn’t keep rocking me against him in the most damningly intimate way, making it even harder to concentrate than it had been when I’d kissed him.
“Wait,” I said again once his shirt hung open and he reached for the buttons on my blouse.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was rougher, but whether that was lust or anger at my objection, I wasn’t sure.
I took in a deep breath, trying not to stare at the muscled beauty that was his chest. Even in the low lighting, he was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.
“Not here,” I said, giving my head a slight shake for lucidity. “Unless I’m not good enough to have sex with in a bed?” I added, managing to sou
nd both hurt and offended, if a bit breathless.
Rafael let out a husky laugh before gathering me close. “Fear not, my sweet. I won’t be finished with foreplay before we arrive.”
His mouth covered mine again, taking my breath away with the raw hunger in his kiss. He didn’t pause to tease my lips this time but delved past them with commanding purpose. Those hot, skillful flicks of his tongue made that buzzing return in my head, as if his mouth had the ability to intoxicate me. I didn’t protest this time when he began to unbutton my blouse, telling myself I didn’t want to make him suspicious, but the truth was that I burned to feel his hands on my skin. Every adolescent imagining I’d ever had was left in the dust at the reality of how incredible it felt to touch him, taste him. Feel the slide of his flesh as his mouth erotically ravished mine, hinting at what a few hundred years of experience could do.
That scorching mouth dipped to my neck at the same moment his palms cupped my breasts, brushing aside my bra. My head fell back as a harsh groan came out of me. He sucked my throat while his thumbs seared across my nipples in the same relentless rhythm as the friction of our lower bodies. I couldn’t think anymore, and I couldn’t keep my hands from traveling up his chest and over his shoulders. The feel of his skin was addictive, each flex and bunch of his muscles flaring even more heat through my core. Some stubborn bit of conscience nagged that I should stop, but I ignored it. So what if things went further than I’d originally intended? I’d still do what needed to be done when the time came.
“Mara,” he breathed, suddenly ceasing his unbelievable stroking of my breasts to catch my hands. “Stop.”
“Why?” I burst out before recalling that stopping would be a good thing.
“I can keep from taking you here, now, as long as you don’t touch me like that,” he replied in a tight voice.
Like what? I’d only been caressing his shoulders, not usually the spot of no return for a man. But then Rafael kissed me, sitting up to press his body against mine, and my thoughts reeled at the contact of his hard flesh against my sensitive breasts.