Ruby Shadows (Born to Darkness #3)(43)

I sighed and let myself go limp, relaxing against the broad, bare chest behind me. Though I had sworn to try and keep my distance earlier, now I was very glad Laish was with me. I felt so weak I wasn’t certain I could have kept my head above water in the deep tub. He must have known that because he held me gently but firmly against him, keeping me safe as he waited for the heated water to heal me.

“Gwendolyn,” he murmured in my ear after a while. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

Should I? Somehow I didn’t feel like I could lie to him—not when we were pressed so closely together with his arms around me.

Hesitantly, I told him, starting with the knock on the door and how I had looked out the peephole and seen the innocent looking little cherub boy. I didn’t tell him about how the little blond boy had brought back my shoe—in retrospect believing that he had gone to get it back for me out of the goodness of his little heart made me seem even stupider than I already was. Instead, I told Laish, truthfully enough, how hungry the devilkin child had looked.

“I didn’t think it could hurt to open the door to him,” I said. “He looked so hungry and I thought I could give him a sandwich—give him a lot of them to take back to the other kids.”

He sighed, his broad chest moving against my back.

“And so you opened the door out of compassion. Wanting to feed him, not knowing that what he hungered for was your flesh.”

“How could I know?” I asked, a little defensively. “I mean, I know you told me that their appetites might surprise me but I just thought you meant they would eat anything because food was so scarce. You could have been a little more specific.”

“Yes, I should have,” he agreed with me, to my surprise. “But I didn’t want to frighten you, mon petit chat.”

“I’m not your little cat,” I said in irritation. “And you should have told me. I thought you were just being a bastard when you said we should ignore them.”

“Should I tell you then, every time we are near someone or something that can kill you?” He turned me around so that I was facing him, still wrapped in his arms. “Should I explain in detail exactly how each threat wishes to maim, devour, or despoil you? How they all desire to drink your blood, violate your body, or steal your soul?”

He was looking at me earnestly, honestly seeking an answer to his question. He really wanted to know if I cared to have the dirty details of exactly what or who wanted to kill or rape me and how they planned to do it everywhere we went. Except we were in Hell which meant at any given time just about anyone we met would be wanting to do those things.

I felt like my eyes had been opened by the devilkin incident. It was like being in a room full of people you know aren’t very nice but don’t think are awful. Then you suddenly find out that every single one of them is a serial killer and they all have a knife with your name on it. Horrible.

As the realization sank in, I felt sick to my stomach.

“No,” I whispered at last. “No, I guess not.”

“You’re in danger every minute, mon ange,” he murmured, stroking my cheek lightly with the back of his hand. “I thought you would be safe in the room but I underestimated Druaga’s determination to get to you. Forgive me.”

“I’m the one who ought to be asking forgiveness, I guess,” I said, trying to look away from that steady, ruby red gaze and failing. “I should have listened to you. I should have known you wouldn’t tell me not to open the door to anyone without good reason.”

“That is correct but I think you may have learned your lesson.” He cupped my cheek. “From now on remember—you are only safe when I am with you. I will try not to leave you alone again but if it is ever necessary, you must trust no one.”

“All right,” I whispered, my mouth feeling dry. “I believe you. I mean, really believe you now, Laish. I…don’t think I really got it before.”

“I am glad you ‘get it’ now,” he murmured. “Are you feeling better?”

I realized that I was. And then I further realized that I was sitting naked, except for my soaking wet panties, on his lap in the huge marble tub. I had felt too sick and weak for the situation to seem sexual before. But now, sitting as we were with my legs straddling his lean hips and my bare breasts almost brushing his broad chest, I began to feel warm all over for a reason that had nothing at all to do with the hot water surrounding us.

“I’m fine now,” I said, trying to make my voice sound normal. “A lot better—really.”

“Good,” he murmured and those burning ruby eyes of his were suddenly half-lidded with desire. “Because I think it’s time to get out of the tub and dry off now, Gwendolyn. And then it’s time to pay the tax.”


“The Sin Tax you mean?” My voice was much higher than I liked. “I mean…can’t we wait until tomorrow morning? I just had a near death experience and I’m not exactly feeling very, uh, sexy right now.”

“Is that right? These would seem to tell a different tale.” Cupping my breasts in his big hands, he thumbed my erect nipples, sending a shiver of desire straight from my tender peaks to my *.

“Laish!” I protested breathlessly, shifting against him. “Please…you shouldn’t.”