Lora Leigh - Primal

Daughter of Earth. Scorpion-souled. Protector of her people and the world that gave birth to her. Enemy to those not of this world: the angels who battled in front of her as well as the vampires the scions behind her would one day become.

The need to slay her enemies blossomed like a black rose in her chest, thorns of hate piercing her, as if they’d anchor themselves in her soul. But almost immediately came thoughts of Addai, the memories they’d created in the short time they were together. Tenderness and sacrifice. Pleasure and pain.

Those memories were followed by equally powerful ones. Of the humans who’d made her part of their family, though now she understood there was no true genetic link to them. Of the still-human Corinne, in ways like a younger sister.

The thorns of hate found no place to reside in Sajia’s spirit. Fiery, elemental passion filled her, hot and intense, like a sandstorm sweeping across the desert and bringing with it the need to protect, to love, to live.

She thought to turn long enough to place the knives in the scions’ hands so they could protect themselves and she could change form and join Addai. But before she could do it, he cut his brother so deeply that Caphriel’s sword hand hung from cleaved muscle and severed bone, blood gushing as his free hand gripped the near stump, fingers clamping down like a tourniquet.

The tip of Addai’s sword lodged itself in Caphriel’s chest, piercing skin but not yet ending life. And even then, Caphriel laughed, taunted, “Do you dare, brother? My death might just turn our father’s gaze back to this forsaken world. Will you risk it? Are you ready for his wrath? Are your allies ready? Peace, brother. For today. And tomorrow. For thirty days and then we will begin our games again.”

Sajia went to Addai’s side, her own blades sheathed. With the illusion of being human stripped away, her doubts about him fled. For a being whose existence spanned eternity, only the essence of who someone was mattered, the soul without regard to form, and hers called out to his just as his did to hers.

She placed her hand on Addai’s arm. “Let him go.”

“And have him make a game of trying to kill you?”

In his voice she heard a willingness to damn them all because of his love for her. And despite the threat of it, tenderness welled inside her, bringing with it an understanding that delivering death came far easier to him than trusting in life.

Stroking her hand along the edge of Addai’s wing, she said, “I believe I’ve told you several times now that I am not the same woman I once was. I won’t be so easy to kill this time.”

Emotion clogged Addai’s throat. So intense it would have taken him to his knees had they been alone.

The desire to return to the chalet with Sajia overpowered him, pushing him to hurry and be done with Caphriel and his games. “Ninety days,” he said, bargaining as he had with Rimmon.

“Sixty. Beyond that, death would be a sweet release from the ennui.”

“Sixty,” Addai agreed, pulling his sword from Caphriel’s chest.

Caphriel’s form faded away in a weak shimmer, but his voice was strong in Addai’s mind. Enjoy her for the time she’s yours. The next victory will be mine, brother.

Addai sheathed his sword, and with its disappearance his wings also vanished. He turned, hardly daring to believe what he saw in Sajia’s eyes, what he’d heard in her voice moments earlier. Acceptance rather than repudiation. Love rather than hate.

I have never desired another as I do you . There has been no other for me since that day we first met. “I feared—”

She touched her fingertips to his lips, silencing him. “You should if you intend to keep secrets from me or treat me as a prisoner.”

His heart was light, filled with such joy that he smiled against her fingers, teased, Not a prisoner, but a love slave.

He accompanied the words with an image projected into her mind, the recent past overlaid onto a far more distant one, of her naked on her knees before him, eyes pleading and hands placed in supplication on his thighs as she both waited for his command to pleasure him and pleaded for him to give it.

Sajia laughed, a sultry sound that had him hardening regardless of the blood pouring from his wounds. But then she grew somber, “You’re not healing.”

“I will with our return to the chalet.”

In her need to get to Addai’s side, concern for the teens had fled Sajia’s thoughts completely. They remained near the cabin doorway.

Neither seemed shocked or awed at having witnessed a battle between angels. They knew of the existence of such beings, she realized, guessing it was part of the history lessons reserved for scions.

The vampires of this world are the pale remains of beings fought elsewhere by my kind , Addai said, a shadow in her mind or anticipating her thoughts.

The noise of fast, powerful engines had them all looking toward San Francisco. And within minutes a swarm of speedboats had surrounded them.

Guards armed with machine guns boarded, efficiently clearing it of danger, their last duties to search the dead men then flip the bodies into the water.

A man who could only be a Tassone High Servant joined them on the deck of the fishing boat then. He was lethal beauty and deadly charm, his graceful movements making Sajia think of a cobra.

She suppressed a shiver when storm gray eyes became smooth steel, the change in them pronounced, arriving with the alien presence of the Tassone master as he took possession of his servant’s body. This was a vampire’s ultimate escape—if they were willing to sacrifice power for continued life—to be able to completely abandon their own body, leaving it behind to burn or rot or sink to the depths of the ocean while they lived on in another’s.

His gaze flickered over her, taking note of the Tucci marks on her arm before settling on Addai. “Apparently I am in your debt. What do you require to discharge it?”

“It can be accomplished easily enough. Arrange a betrothal between Sebastian and Corinne, and as part of your terms to the Tucci, Sajia is to be freed from her oath.”

“And why would I want to do that, when apparently her service would also bring me yours?”

A trap neatly laid and neatly sprung , Addai thought, the message Irial carried, reminding him that Sajia’s return was part of the weave creating alliance, now just another part of the pattern. And yet with Sajia beside him, he could muster no rage at the maneuverings that would result in him being tethered to vampires.

“For you to call on me as an ally, then you would also have to offer protection to Sajia’s family and safe harbor for the Constellation .”

“Done. Thane will see to matters until sunset, then I’ll send for the Tucci master and make arrangements.”

A blink and the vampire’s presence vanished, allowing his servant’s soul to escape whatever dark prison it’d been banished to.

Addai led Sajia into the cabin and closed the door. The wings he’d hidden after defeating Caphriel materialized as he took her into his arms.

“Home now,” he said, willing his clothes away in the same thought that took them to the chalet.

He unbound her hair as she stood in his embrace. Its silky length trailed down her back and the enticing curve of her buttocks.

“I could command you to disrobe,” he murmured. “And return to your lessons of submission.”

“Or you could make love to me,” she countered. “And we could continue creating new memories together.”

He laughed and quickly tugged her clothing from her body, a flash of possessiveness making him say, “Shift. Rid yourself of the Tucci marks.”

Sajia changed, taking the scorpion’s form in reminder and warning that he’d feel the sting of her ire if he thought to make her into something she wasn’t. Returning to his arms when she became woman again, her skin free of scarring.