Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(26)

On the whole, she didn’t believe Slaine was hideous, but he wasn’t hot by any means. Except in the body department. Again her gaze dipped. She grudgingly admitted his physique was magnificent.

While his hips were narrow, his shoulders were broad, real doorway wreckers. His chiseled torso was a masterpiece of flexing ridges, one lean side inked with that flaring black tattoo. The worn leather of his pants encased muscular thighs, and dark leather cuffs circled his brawny forearms and wrists.

She noticed his chainmail and chest had been cut in several new places—and that his left nipple was pierced with a small silver bar. Surprisingly, she found that aspect of the dirty demon . . . sexy. In fact, everything about him from the neck down was.

Her breaths a thread shallower, she met his gaze, then tilted her head. His eyes really were an arresting shade of blue.

Just when she was about to deem one more thing semi-handsome about him, he shoved the head at her and it rolled to her feet.

“Really. Really? You crazy—ass—demon . . .” She trailed off, craning her head as he rose to his full, towering height.

He held out his hand, palm up, and grated, “Minde ara, alton.”

She thought he’d said, My female, come. Ah, Hekate, he wanted his female, his mate—to claim. She swallowed. He would consider her his property. A warrior like him, in a world like this . . . soon, he’d just dispense with the chitchat and take what he wanted. “You jump me again, and I’ll tag you in the ballbag just like last night.”

His gaze was intent on her face, but not in an admiring way. He looked as if he was anticipating her next move.

Which he could never discern . . . because she had no idea what she would do. Ideas surfaced and resurfaced, decisions and plays analyzed and discarded.

Was the demon her best chance of getting herself and Ruby home?

He was brutal in all ways. He’d thrown a freaking head at her. He’d bitten her, gorging himself on her blood.

Could Carrow actually surrender herself to him, allowing him to claim her? The night before when he’d been in the throes, he’d broken her wrist in seconds.

The idea of her body naked and defenseless for his use sent chills through her. Chills of fear. Only fear.

There had to be another way to save Ruby without getting herself mauled by an abomination.

When he began circling her, she pivoted to keep him in sight.

Think, Carrow! There might be another option besides Slaine. She’d quickly encountered other denizens of this plane—perhaps more were nearby? Possibly less hostile than Asmodel’s gang? She was on a hell plane with knowledge about a scheduled opening into a relative heaven—maybe she could tempt some demons to join her quest.

She could tell them, Riches and territory can all be yours. Basically selling them lots in the burbs. Have you dreamed of a better life with your own backyard?

The Order wanted her back at the portal with the vemon in tow? Then she could show with an army of plundering demons heaven-bent on a new life in paradise. We can take over the portal, the entire facility!

If there was one thing Carrow excelled at, it was creating chaos. She would figure out a way to lose this freak for now, then give herself a day to find other demons.

Growing impatient, he shoved out his hand again. “Alton, ara!”

“Come, female?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You expect me to go with you when you tore my neck with your bite! Should I just forget that you, you nutted on me?”

She knew he couldn’t understand her words, but it felt good to vent. “Remember that while you were all like”—she imitated his husky groan as he’d had his orgasm—“I was all like”—she whimpered and cradled her hand. “Do you understand me?”

A glimmer in his blue eyes said he might.

“So just stay the hell away from me!” She managed the smallest glow in her palms.

He snarled at them.

“I’m not afraid of you, demon.” She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin.

His growl faded and he frowned, taken aback by her reaction.

Standoff. Then he made a play, presenting to her a potential game changer.

Her canteen. He’d had it looped over his back, and now held it out to her with a calculating look in his eyes.

“Give it to me.” Instead, he uncapped it and took a swig. She rushed forward. “That’s mine, demon.” She made a grab for it, but he held it above her head. “Give it back!”

He lowered it enough that she made a futile leap for it. “Oh, fine! What do you want from me?”

Before she could retreat, he cupped the back of her neck, easing the canteen to just before her lips. Apparently, he wanted to hand-feed her the water.

She didn’t trust the demon, didn’t like him. He was brutish, possibly a hardened murderer. She was tempted to tell him where he could shove that canteen, but she needed the contents too badly.

Humans could die after three days without water—indoors. Carrow had been in hell for more than a day, mostly running, and she was feeling it.

“Very well.” She parted her lips, and he pressed the opening against them. Water flowed, hot and metallic. Never had she tasted anything as good.

As she drank, she could feel the liquid already hitting her system, the effects washing over her with the force and speed of a drug rush. Her eyelids slid shut.