Paula Altenburg - Black Widow Demon

He cursed under his breath. He’d let his own bad experiences with a Godseeker uncle cloud his interpretation of what was happening last night, and immediately assumed her stepfather was lying. He had not truly thought through what it might mean if the accusations against her were true.

He still had no idea.

He panted slightly, trying to shift his weight from his throbbing erection and calm it without giving her any room to escape. He caught a rock with one booted foot and tried to use it as leverage to help him free his arms, accidentally kicking it off the side of the ledge instead.

The blue flames in her eyes slowly died.

“Let me up,” she repeated. This time, much of the fight appeared to have left her. She looked young, weary, and more afraid than she probably wanted him to see. This appearance of vulnerability made her all the more dangerous, Blade reminded himself. She had a right to defend herself using whatever means possible, but if he were to fall into her lure, he would pay for it dearly.

Lust stabbed through him again as he studied her face. Then again, if she intended to deploy such means as this against men, she needed to know what it was that she risked. Last night had not, apparently, taught her enough of a lesson.

He dipped his head and captured her mouth with his. Her lips parted, shock filling her eyes, and he took swift advantage of her gasp. He swept his tongue lightly across hers, lingering, enjoying the taste of her.

Then, just as suddenly, everything changed again. Hot waves of desire encompassed him, stripping him of any ability to form a coherent plan of defense. But it was not his craving for her that left him reeling this time, even though that was heady enough. It was hers for him.

Her legs were tight around his waist, and in their struggle he had not noticed how her skirt had slipped almost to her hips. Little separated her warmth from the erection continuing to strain against his trousers, and she pressed more snugly against him, bringing them closer still. One small, bare foot caressed his hip, then rubbed along the length of his thigh, giving him an opening to break the physical hold she had on him. He reached beneath her and he danced his fingertips along the sensual line of her spine before deepening their kiss. He could think of nothing but a swelling, rampant need to be inside her, to join with her.

To belong to her.

Icy awareness blasted him like a fist to the face. He could finish this to their mutual satisfaction if he wished, but he was not the kind of man women approached in this manner, without any caution. Not unless sparked by desperation or money. This desire for him, although powerful, could be no more natural than the allure she used on other men as a defense, and it was obvious she had little to no control over it right now.

He broke off the kiss, his heart pounding. He did not understand how they had come to this point, nor did he trust his reaction to her. He would not take undue advantage of any woman, especially one under duress and fearing for her life, demon spawn or not.

She turned her head, exposing her neck, and at the same time released his arms. He slowly grazed his roughened chin along the sensitive flesh beneath her ear to rest his cheek in her soft curls, and he relaxed his heavier body so she could extract herself from beneath him. He was curious to see how she would retaliate.

He did not expect her to throw her head back and scream as if in sudden and excruciating pain. As she twisted to her side, he rocked back on his heels and released her completely.

She drew her knees to her chest with a shudder, and one slim hand went to her bare calf. The other covered her face as if to hide. Shock and concern immobilized him, desire forgotten.

Then he saw it. A goldthief slithered away, its quivering tail emitting a loud rattle of displeasure. A quick visual check of the ledge told Blade what had happened. The snake must have been resting beneath the rock he’d dislodged with his foot.

As he coaxed her fingers from her leg she whimpered in pain. Two angry red puncture wounds, already swelling, marred the creamy smooth skin of her calf. He sucked in a breath at the sight.

“It was only a goldthief,” he told her. “You’ll be all right.”

He captured her fingers and squeezed them, wanting to reassure her that she was not going to die, although for a few days she might wish to do so. Goldthief bites were painful, and extremely hallucinogenic because the toxin tapped into the victim’s subconscious, but rarely fatal to someone young and healthy.

She clawed at his sleeve with both hands.

“Please don’t leave me!” she begged him, her voice whisper thin as her words slurred together. Stark terror spilled from her eyes to run down her cheeks. She moaned as the venom worked its way deeper into her system.

He lifted her into his arms, feeling helpless as he held her. The heat from the sun’s rays beat against his back, and perspiration pooled beneath the heavy leather coat. This day had not gone well for him. Not one bit. He scrubbed a hand down his face. If he had not stopped to help her, none of this would have happened. How had he gone from bystander, to seducer, to protector in such a short span of time?

“I won’t leave you,” he promised finally, not knowing what else he could say.

“Thank you.” Relief filled her soft, fading voice. “My name is Raven.” Her eyelids drifted closed, those long, sooty lashes dusting her ashen cheeks. Her next words were merely a murmur, and he bent his head as she spoke. Even then, he was uncertain he heard them correctly.

Because he thought she said, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

Raven clutched at the sleeve of Blade’s coat with both hands, clinging to the one connection she had left to the mortal world, but she knew he could not help her now.

No one could.

Numbness spread from her hands and feet, inching gradually up her arms and legs. As the goldthief venom stole the feeling from her extremities, and her vision of the mortal world, she slipped from consciousness into the haven she had constructed from her childhood dreams. But its peacefulness was long gone. Now, steaming clouds of reeking sulfur thickened the air. Streaks of lightning, accompanied by deafening rumbles of thunder, cracked the heavy black sky above her, waves of residual static electricity lifting the curls away from her face. Demons had found it somehow, and changed it, and now when she came here they sensed her presence and searched it for her.

One found her now. She watched him from the edge of a boiling lake as he approached her in mortal form.

He stepped lightly across a footpath of stones embedded in red-hot lava. He wore very little, only a simple pair of breeches made of supple leather, and with curling black hair and eyes the same glittering shade of blue as hers, she had no doubt who he was. She could see why her mother had once answered his call. On the surface, he was beautiful. What her mother had not seen was the monster inside him, while Raven could see it quite clearly. It made her shiver, setting her own demon on edge.

He leaped from the last rock of the footpath to the shore of the lake, then stood before her. When he reached for the amulet around her neck, curiosity in his icy eyes, her flesh recoiled at the thought of his touch, but she did not back away. Her demon warned that to run from him would mean certain death.

He did not touch her, however. Only the amulet.

“Where did you get this?” he asked as he examined it.

She dared not lie to him. “From my mother.”

But it seemed he did dare lie to her. He released it, letting it drop to the cleft between her breasts, dismissing it as of no further interest to him, which she knew was not the truth. He searched her face, then shrugged one bare shoulder.