Embraced (The Eternal Balance #2)(2)
“Leave,” the guy commanded. With impressive speed for a human, he moved in to wrap his hand around Sam’s neck, and the entire room shifted. “This is none of your concern.”
“Isn’t it?” My tone changed from deceptively light to viperous. Simmering anger coiled my muscles and galvanized every step. Most of it was me. I loved Sam and would kill anyone who tried to harm her. But there was demon in my motions. The monster inside bombarded me with another scene—my fist repeatedly pummeling the guy as he begged for mercy. The tantalizing lure of blood and fear and rage was almost too compelling to resist, but somehow I managed to push down the itch. Sam. Had to focus on Sam. I nodded to her. “You okay?”
“Well, you know…” Sam was tougher than any ten women put together, still there was the slightest shake to her voice. Gray smoke bled into the air around her and almost sent me over the edge. “I’m not really into this guy, but he won’t take no for an answer.”
The demon’s hunger caused pin pricks of pain to bloom across my body. Killing this * would be easy. I could get in and remove him from the situation without mussing Sam’s hair. But how the f*ck was I going to explain a dead body in the storage room? My new boss wouldn’t like it.
I caught Sam’s gaze and gave a slight nod upward. Whoever had stocked the vodka shelf had been lazy. The bottles were all perilously close to the edge directly above where the guy was standing. She tilted her head, but I had no idea if she saw it or not.
“You’re still here,” he said. There was something about his voice that bothered me. The underlying tone, while distinctly human, was just slightly…off.
“So are you,” Sam snapped. She brought her leg up and slammed it back into the wooden shelving. Glass clattered overhead and several of the bottles teetered and fell. They hit their mark and the guy went down hard, glass shattering all around him, clear liquid splashing everywhere.
“Hope you were thirsty,” Sam said. “I suppose I should thank—”
The guy lifted his head and made a grab for her ankle. Sam yelped in surprise and kicked him hard. His eyes rolled back and he went still at her feet. Unfortunately her movement jostled the shelf again. The last remaining bottle of vodka wobbled, then plummeted.
I pitched forward, fingers closing around the bottle seconds before it crashed into her head. “…you,” she finished softly.
My face was inches from hers, and her breath, sweetened by the rum punch she’d been sneaking all night, puffed across my face. I took her arm and dragged her around the corner to the next row of shelves. Common sense said to pull away, to move to the other end of the room where I could maintain a safe amount of space between us.
I didn’t.
Azi was pleased. A series of disturbing and enticing pictures swam through my head. Lush caramel hair and big brown eyes. Creamy skin, warm beneath my fingers. A sound, delicate yet more powerful than any force of nature. My name spoken by a familiar feminine voice. Goose bumps rose along my skin and my heart raced. It was all fake. An illusion created by the demon in order to incite a reaction. But the scenes were like 3D movies, a kick to the nuts with five-inch spurs. Dig in and twist. I felt them, smelled them, and too often found myself unable to resist reacting to them.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I pushed the pictures aside and focused on the real Sam, the one in front of me. “Coming down to the basement with some random guy? After all the shit that’s gone down recently? Are you—” I jabbed my finger at her attackers, but both the guy and the girl were gone. “What the f*ck?”
Sam peered around the corner, then back to me, brows knitted together. She turned in a slow circle, scanning the rest of the room, confused. “Must have run out the basement door.”
“Must have run—” I grabbed her arm and pinned her against the wall. “This is the fifth time in a month that we’ve had a problem, Sammy.”
“I work in a club.” She was defensive, but I heard the underlying concern. “There are going to be minor problems.”
I leaned in close, much closer than I should have dared. “Getting hit on is a minor problem. Having some dickhead puke on you is a minor problem. Being repeatedly attacked is not a minor problem.”
She grabbed a handful of my T-shirt and graced me with a grin that set my insides on fire. “Well then, I guess you’ll have to pay closer attention to me, huh?”
It didn’t seem fair that with one look this girl could completely unravel me, make me forget the world and lose myself in the simple sound of her voice. The demon wanted me to push forward, but I resisted. Being this close to Sam had disaster smeared all over it.
Unfortunately, thanks to the demon, every sense, each nerve ending, was magnified. I was hyperaware of every breath. The subtle tug at the neckline of her shirt as she crossed her arms. The slight shift of her weight as she leaned back against the wall.
Another round of images from Azi blotted out reality for a moment. It showed Sam on the floor, back arched and head thrown back as she writhed beneath me. Begging.
I was instantly hard.
The vision faded, and she sighed. “We should probably get back to work. Or…” Her hands came to my chest. The warmth seeping through the thin, cheap black T-shirt was like an inferno burning straight to my soul. My heart slammed against my ribs as she pushed off the wall and rose onto her toes.