Come Hell or High Water Read online

  I stared at him, hurt churning in my stomach. I felt like I swallowed jagged bits of glass and they were slicing me from the inside out. Was this the evil part? I figured it would take a little more than a few barbed taunts to help Connor grow back eyeballs. I lifted my hand to peek under the bandage, and Connor slapped it away.

  “Stop!” he said, exasperated. “I dinnae want you lookin’ at my sockets.”

  Ew.

  “It’s not working, is it?” I asked. Oh. Lightbulb. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “It’s not working because you don’t mean it.”

  He didn’t bother to utter a denial. Instead, his lips brushed my neck and a shiver of pleasure danced down my spine.

  “So, then, no sex?” he asked.

  “No sex.”

  “Ouch.” He flinched. “Now, that’s evil.”

  “You big baby.”

  He grinned. I didn’t know who sucked worse: Connor at being a demon or me at being a victim. What had he said about the doorways to evil? Violence, fighting, rage.

  “I have a better idea,” I said. No more messing around. I was ready to implement my plan. Sorta.

  “I canna wait to hear this.”

  I ignored his sarcasm, straightened up, and stuck out my jaw. “Hit me.”

  Chapter 10

  “I can take it. I’m a vampire. Go on. Do some violence.”

  Connor snickered.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Afraid?”

  “Immensely.”

  Well, poo. I hadn’t expected him to answer honestly. Where was the big male ego that could be drop-kicked with a few choice insults?

  It wasn’t like I didn’t understand the concept of penance. I always felt as though I’d never pay enough for failing my mother. I knew her suicide wasn’t my fault, but lurking guilt often flayed me. What if I’d stayed with her in Broken Heart? Would she still be alive? I would regret always that I could never look her in the eyes and tell her that I believed her. Demons are real, Momma. You were right. What might’ve happened if someone had just had some faith in her?

  As much I wished I could change it, I couldn’t help Momma. But I could help Connor. If he’d let me.

  “You have to punch me in the face,” I said. “C’mon, you… you goat fucker! Hit me!”

  Rusty chuckles escaped.

  “What?” I asked, trying to pitch my voice into the meanest tone ever. “You like fucking goats?”

  His laughter spilled out, sounding like the un-oiled hinges of an old gate. He pressed a palm against his stomach. “Stop, lass. It hurts.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny, stupidhead!”

  He laughed harder.

  “You suck.”

  I considered my next course of action. More anxiety scrambled through me as I realized what I had to do. I gathered my courage, raised my hand, and… smack!

  His neck cracked and his cheek welted. Lilith’s scratches hadn’t healed entirely, and now I’d wounded the other side. I was a terrible, terrible person.

  Connor rubbed his cheek. “Ow.”

  “Argh! How am I supposed to help you?” I stared at his battered face, my heart hurting for him. I hated to see him like this. Stubborn demon. “Are you really going to try to find the talisman without eyeballs? You kinda need them.”

  “Just let me heal.”

  “And what am I supposed to do while you’re regrowing eyeballs, huh?”

  “Go to Jennifer’s and wait. She’s verra en tertaining.”

  “You know, Connor, your sister scares me a little.”

  He laughed. “I’d tell you she’s not dangerous, but she’s a demon. She doesn’t always mean to cause destruction, though. She’s trying to learn how to be good.”

  “Oh? How’s that working out?”

  “She’s stopped imploding people who anger her,” he said.

  “Well,” I said, “that is progress.”

  He laughed again. I offered a weak smile he couldn’t see, but I was thinking, Implode people? Holy shit! Note to self: Never piss off Jennifer.

  “Why don’t we both go to your sister’s?”

  “I can’t heal properly there.”

  “But you can heal here?”

  “No more than I deserve, lass. I dinnae need comfort. Just time.”

  We sat in gloomy silence while I tried to think of another tactic. I gnawed on my lower lip. I didn’t want to go back to Jennifer’s by myself, but I didn’t want to stay here, either. It was creepy, dark, and smelled like ass. I knew Connor wouldn’t zap me to Broken Heart. I had nowhere else to go and no way to get there.

  I figured my only viable option was to get the man healed already.

  “You sure you don’t want to hit me?”

  He turned his head toward me. The sight of his grimy bandage ate away at me like the poison he’d saved me from. “Mayhap there is a way I might do as you ask.”

  “Really?” I perked up. “What?”

  He hesitated. “I think I might be able to overcome my aversion to hittin’ you if I… spank you.”

  “What?”

  “I knew it was a bad idea.”

  “No,” I said, putting my hands on his shoulders. “Let’s try it.”

  Connor shook his head. “I canna ask you to shimmy off your shorts and let me paddle you.”

  A spanking would be loads better than getting punched in the face. And if it would –

  “Take off my shorts?”

  “We must take this endeavor to its meanest levels,” he said gravely. “Flesh to flesh. Unless you think we can find a flail or a mace?”

  I gauged his words. “I guess we could find a tree branch or something.”

  His lips twitched. I knew it! He was messing with me.

  “You asshole!” I shoved myself off his lap and started pacing.

  “I’m only tryin’ to help you help me,” he said in such an earnest tone I kicked him in the ankle. He yelped. “You’re not verra nice to a blind man.”

  I blew him a raspberry.

  Well, he might’ve made the suggestion to be asinine, but it still wasn’t a bad idea. I marched over to him and knelt, then lay flat against his muscular thighs. Ha. Take that, Connor.

  He said nothing for a long moment.

  “You… um, really want me to… er, spank you?” He sounded choked.

  “Would you rather give me a right hook?”

  “Fine,” he said in an unenthusiastic voice. “I’ll give you a swat.”

  “Swear you’ll be evil?”

  “I cross my black, cold heart.” He made an X over his chest.

  Then he tugged my shorts and panties down, exposing my buttocks.

  “Hey!”

  “I crossed my heart,” he said solemnly. “I canna renege on my promise.”

  His palm coasted down one buttock. The light touch sent oh-happy-day ripples to my girly bits.

  “S-stop.”

  “You dinnae want me to do this?” He streaked his fingers over the other buttock.

  “No!”

  “Hmmm. ‘Tis strange, lass,” he said, plumping my buttocks. “But I’m not feelin’ any better.” His palm skimmed up my back, his fingertips resting on my spine. I wasn’t wearing a bra, mostly because I didn’t think I’d be yanked out of my own house right after stumbling outta bed. “Mayhap you’re enjoyin’ this.”

  I wanted to deny it, but my protest came out as, “Oooh.”

  He stroked the skin of my back.

  I will not enjoy his touch. I will not enjoy his touch. I will not –

  “You like it.” I heard the grin in his voice. “How can I heal if you won’t cooperate? At least try to be offended.”

  “Hoo-kay,” I said as I tried to get up. “This isn’t working.”

  Connor pressed down between my shoulder blades, stalling my effort to rise.

  “Hey!” I tried to shake off his hold. In the strength department, demon trumped vampire. He pushed harder, his other hand sliding over my ass. Surprise melded i
nto apprehension. “W-what are you doing?”

  “Only what you asked.” His voice held an edge as straight and sharp as a blade.

  “Connor?”

  His palm flattened against my ass.

  I swallowed the sudden knot in my throat. If he was trying to scare me, he was doing a decent job. I hadn’t thought much past the idea of getting Connor to do something evil. I hadn’t considered what might happen if he, you know, actually caved in to my demands.

  One hand moved off my ass while the other stayed on my back, pressing harder still.

  “You wanted this,” he reminded me. I could almost feel the vibration in the air, his hand rising, the whoosh of air as it descended.

  I yelped.

  It took me a second to realize he hadn’t actually smacked me.

  “You can get up now, lass,” he said, chuckling.

  I don’t know if I was more mortified by his amusement or by my obvious wimp-out. Even though Connor removed his hands and shifted restlessly underneath me, I didn’t move. The hard length of his cock pressed into my hip.

  I shot up and straddled him, grabbing him by the shirt. “You… you… you!”

  He was stupid and protective and stubborn and cute and… and… stupid!

  You said that already.

  I blinked. That wasn’t my thought. Argh! I double-punched him again. “Stay out of my head!” Then I stopped. “You can hear my thoughts?” Oh, my God. Telepathy. The mate thing was tightening between us. Like a noose. I gulped.

  Connor grimaced.

  “How long have you been able to get inside my mind?”

  “Now, lass…”

  “Don’t you ‘now, lass’ me! How long?”

  “Since the night we mated.”

  I rammed my fists against his shoulders again. He seized one wrist and yanked it down between us. I let the other fist fly and landed a hard blow to his stomach. He grabbed my other wrist and manacled it, too.

  “Why can’t I hear your thoughts?” I demanded.

  “Have you tried?”

  No, I hadn’t. Because I didn’t want this. I didn’t want him. I wanted my unlife back. It hadn’t exactly been exciting. Managing a diner had never been my life’s dream, but neither had being a vampire. Sometimes, you just had to roll with the punches. I wanted to be at home with Danny, reading him Green Eggs and Ham, like we did almost every night before bedtime.

  Connor had stolen that from me. Noble reasons or not, big, bad villainess or not, freaking prophecy or not… I’d been robbed.

  “Stay out of my head.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Connor?”

  “I canna make that promise,” he said.

  I rose to my feet, surprised to realize I was shaking. My legs felt like wet noodles. My eyes ached; my throat was clogged. Symptoms of tears I couldn’t cry.

  Gah. I was such a freaking mess.

  Scrymgeour’s insane barking echoed from the dark.

  “That’s bad, right?” I asked.

  “I dinnae think she would find me here.”

  “Nera?” I asked stupidly.

  “Lilith. She canna access this level.”

  This level?

  Something huge and yellow and smelling like cat piss rumbled out of the darkness and back-handed me. I spun and hit the wall. My cheek scraped along the rough surface, and bells rang in my ears as I slid to the earthen floor.

  Pain ricocheted through me.

  “Phoebe!”

  As I wobbled to my feet, Connor jumped to his and, in that unerring way of his, turned to face the demon. The massive creature looked made of popcorn, its body bulbous and pitted.

  Another demon?

  Wonderful.

  “Left!” I screamed at Connor. He ducked and came up under the demon’s arm, shoving it hard. It staggered backward, roaring.

  The Chihuahua barked and snarled. He ran around the demon’s legs, nipping, but the demon didn’t even spare the hellhound a second glance.

  “Why isn’t Scrymgeour eating it?”

  Connor sniffed the air. “This one is from deeper in the Pit. Its essence is too strong.”

  “Deeper in the Pit?” I yelled. “Where the hell are we?”

  “Funny,” said Connor.

  The yellow bastard went for Connor again, and I flinched when its massive arm connected with his poor, beat-up face.

  He staggered, then did a roundhouse kick, which snapped the demon’s head back. It responded by sweeping its huge arm into Connor’s chest.

  He flew backward, into the thick darkness. I heard a crash, a loud snap, and a groan.

  Shit.

  The demon turned its deformed head toward me. It looked like it had been cleaved in two and had healed wrong; one side was puffier than the other. Two orange horns stuck out over its eyes.

  I took a fighting stance.

  It opened its mouth and showed off double rows of slimy black teeth.

  The demon charged toward me.

  Chapter 11

  I got one punch in, and even though I added some demonfire to it, the demon absorbed the blow.

  He shoved me hard.

  I slammed into the craggy wall and fell sideways. Okay. That hurt. A lot. I scrambled to my feet.

  The demon laughed. Its screeching chuckles scraped at my pride. What kind of lame-ass fighter was I? I’d been trained by the best in Broken Heart, the lycanthropes and even the Roma, who were cousins to the lycans. They were werewolves, too, but could only change during the full moon. They also were very well-known for being excellent vampire hunters. And look at me now. I couldn’t even throw a decent punch or protect myself.

  Then again, how many demons had I actually fought? I was the cleanup girl, the one Patsy and crew called when a demon was already weak, with one foot in hell anyway.

  I half turned, but the demon was fast (now that he’d finished laughing at my incompetence). He embraced me from behind and pulled me flush against him, his lips in my hair, his arm around my neck.

  He squeezed.

  I choked, a stupid reaction. I didn’t need the air. Even though my lungs didn’t operate, it was unnerving to have that intense pressure against my throat. I grabbed at his arm, digging my nails into his pitted flesh.

  He was squeezing my windpipe. The idea of him crushing it horrified me. How long would that type of injury need to heal?

  He lifted me. I put my feet on his ginormous knees and pushed off. I reared my head, slamming the back of my skull into his face. The blow vibrated all the way down my spine, but I heard a satisfying crunch.

  Screeching, he dropped me. I whirled around and danced back, gathering my demon magic. I wanted my weapons, damn it. My Glock with Wiccan-blessed silver bullets would even the score.

  His cracked nose dripped with obsidian blood. His orange eyes held fury and payback, and I didn’t care.

  He lurched forward, talons extended.

  I released the ball of demonfire too soon. It didn’t have enough oomph to do much more than make the asshole stagger. His gaze never left mine. I could see how much he wanted to hurt me.

  I created a binding coil and tossed it over his neck, but he struggled only a few seconds before the red strands broke.

  He leapt forward. Claws slashed.

  My stomach burned, but I had no time to assess the wound. Instead, I balled up my fist and punched him in the face.

  Maybe my Family powers were wonked out, but I still had the strength of a vampire. He flew backward and slammed into the wall. Ha! Stone burst around him and I scrabbled back as jagged pieces flew in my direction.

  He shook his head, stunned.

  I marched toward him. I dropped down to one knee and struck him as hard as I could in the balls. For good measure, I released demonfire with the punch.

  I found it supremely stupid of demons to wander around with their packages on display, but they were like male peacocks – showing off their goods to either impress or terrify.

  But, hey, a dude was
a dude in any species, and getting his balls busted hurt (and burned). A lot. His eyes went wide, and he cupped his injured genitals, wobbling sideways. I jumped to my feet and did a roundhouse kick to his stomach. He fell, curling into a ball.

  “Go to hell,” I said. It was a command.

  He didn’t disappear.

  Yeah. That’s what I thought. I was so gonna kill Connor… you know, if I survived.

  He lay there, gasping, his eyes filled with hatred. Then I saw his gaze move behind me.

  I felt talons on my neck.

  Then I was lifted and tossed away.

  I flew backward, rocks stabbing and pummeling me. I had nothing to hold on to, no way to stop. It seemed as though I sailed through the darkness forever.

  I smacked against another craggy wall; stone crumbled around me. The sound of my skull cracking echoed in my own ears like the blast of a shotgun.

  I lay on my side, covered in rock dust. My head frigging hurt. I reached back and felt my tenderized skull. I came away with bloody fingers.

  Terrific.

  My stomach burned, the wounds caused by the demon’s hideous talons throbbing in a disturbing rhythm with the pain in my skull.

  I couldn’t see a damned thing, but when I touched my tender abdomen, I could tell that the wound was already healing.

  For a nearly indestructible vampire, I was getting the shit knocked out of me.

  Where was Connor? Was he okay?

  I heard noises: screeches, grunts, and the meaty thunk-thunk of fists connecting with flesh.

  I stumbled to my feet and weaved my way toward the sounds. I could feel the back of my head healing, the bone reconnecting, the skin knitting together. It was a weird sensation.

  I followed the noise through the unrelenting blackness, grateful to have vampire senses. Finally, I saw the faint edge of red light, and I started to hurry. A few moments later, I skidded into the area where the yellow demon and a smaller, meaner booger-colored one – who’d used me for a Frisbee! – were battling a righteously big white demon. It had huge, glossy wings.