Boundless Page 4

  With a charming smile, he signed a ticket and pressed it into the waiter’s palm. By the man’s effusive response, he believed he’d been tipped well. “Ready? We need to be in the air if we’re to get home before dawn.”

  A thrill shivered through her. “Yes. Please.”

  Much later, she lay beside him in her narrow bed, and when he asked to hold her, she whispered, “Yes.” They pressed close to banish the chill. If she shut her eyes, she could still feel the wind on her face.

  Her lashes drifted down. “Kurt Vonnegut said, ‘Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be.’ So maybe you’re not a demon pretending to be a dragon anymore. Perhaps you’re a dragon pretending to be a demon.”

  He shuddered against her. “Teresa. Why do you say such things?”

  “Because they feel true.”

  “You terrify me.” Dev leaned his forehead against hers.

  As the first fingers of light stole over the windowsill she had to ask. “Why?”

  “Because you may mean the end of me.”

  Day Four

  Teresa slept the day away.

  When she stirred she felt a warm body beside her, but it didn’t rattle her anymore. She might even miss it. Shadows bathed the plain walls, telling her it was nearly dark again. As she raised her head, she saw Dev propped up on an elbow, gazing down.

  “You don’t sleep?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his beautiful mouth. “No rest for the wicked.”

  Despite herself she laughed softly. “Everything all right?”

  “Your Mother Superior peeked in a short while ago and saw you praying like a good girl. Who knows what she would’ve thought to find you still asleep at this hour? Perhaps that you were out carousing all right.”

  “Shocking, isn’t it?”

  Her gaze ran over the planes of his face, lean cheekbones curving to a sharp jaw. His brows slashed in fierce gold lines over wide set eyes. In profile his nose jutted like a blade, a little stronger than his chin, which held the most interesting dimple. Not a full cleft, just a tiny divot. A woman wanted to rest her thumbs there while her fingers framed his face for a kiss.

  “Let me get you something to eat. No apples, right?”

  Teresa wasn’t using to anyone waiting on her. She’d been looking after herself since she was thirteen, more or less. She hesitated, and then her stomach growled.

  “You can get me an apple.” Her eyes said she accepted the symbolism and the risk. “Cheese too if you don’t mind, maybe some bread.”

  He sketched a bow as he headed for the kitchen. “I’m here to serve.”

  No, you’re here to steal my soul. But her heart might be in greater danger.

  After finishing the meal, she rubbed her fingers across her lap. “I need a shower.”

  “There are limits to what I can do,” he said. “I can’t make a steamy bathroom look empty, but we could travel. Get a room somewhere, a posh place, and you could take a long bath.”

  That sounded heavenly. “Where would you like to go?”

  “I’d love to fly all night with you, but that wouldn’t get you into a warm tub. Vancouver is closest.”

  While she considered, she fretted her lower lip with her teeth, and as she glanced up, she saw Dev fix on that small motion. “Does it bother you?”

  “What?”

  “Being close to me and not…” How she hoped he wouldn’t make her spell it out.

  “Oh.” He thought about it, and his voice dropped, deepened. “Not in the way you mean, but I am hungry, Teresa.”

  “Then I’d better get moving. Don’t want to anger a hungry dragon.”

  “Before we go, can I ask a boon?”

  “You can ask,” she said. “But I don’t promise to acquiesce.”

  “May I unbind your hair? I want to brush it for you.”

  She remembered him asking that on the first day and gave the answer before she thought better of it. “Yes. I need to wash it anyway.”

  Dev knelt behind her on the bed, working gently at the plaits. Nobody had touched her hair since her mother died, but she would not think of that, no more than she’d permitted him to mention it yesterday. Without asking he found the plain wood brush in the top drawer of her bedside table. The long strokes sent shivers through her, and she sat quiet, eyes half-closed. Despite her best intentions a soft sound escaped her as he ran the brush beneath, skimming the nape of her neck.

  He smoothed his palms down the wavy length once he finished. “You have the look of a Medici princess. Long face, hooded eyes and such glorious hair…”

  Teresa started to argue and then she realized he might well have met one to validate the comparison. She contented herself with a simple, “Thank you.”

  “You don’t look like Teresa this way.” Leaning in, he tilted her face into the waning light. “Tess.” From his lips it sounded like an endearment and fell as a kiss.

  She regarded him gravely. “Not of the d’Urbervilles, I hope.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Dragons—demons?—aren’t big readers. Noted. She didn’t know how she saw him anymore. Things had become tangled in her head, but she’d seen true evil, and she didn’t receive that feeling from him, though that instinct ran counter to every religious teaching. Then again, she didn’t agree with everything written in His name. If it came from a human hand, it could be wrong.

  “Nothing.” Teresa shook her head, acutely conscious of his fingers on her face.

  “You don’t belong here. Don’t you want to know what it’s like to have a man come home to you as the brightest part of his day and put his face in your hair? Whisper your name?”

  She withdrew, determined she would give him no more ammunition. “Let’s go.”

  “In your nightdress?”

  “Oh. You want to turn around again?” She didn’t hold out much hope he’d act the gentleman for the second night in a row.

  Dev flashed a wicked grin. “Not especially.”

  His amusement faded, as he appeared to realize she could dress underneath her nightgown while flashing minimal bits of skin. Oh, she knew he’d already seen her from head to toe, but that was before. Before she believed in him completely.

  This time she knew what to expect as their feet flew over the green field toward the trees. She sensed his yearning, not for her but the wide, open sky. The shift didn’t startle her, but her sense of awe increased. Why did she deserve such a gift? This test began to seem like an honor, for she would treasure these memories once he went away. Teresa shied away from naming the place he must return to, even in her own mind. She ached because it seemed wickedly unfair.

  He should be free.

  When he bent his neck, it resembled an invitation to dance. Teresa grinned and dropped a curtsey before scrambling up. The last scale on his neck crest showed hollow, so she could hold on easier.

  “A handle! Thank you.”

  Dev bared his teeth. “I don’t want to lose you. Hang on. Vancouver is just a hop away.”

  He spoke the truth. It seemed they had no more taken off and soared a moment or two before the city lights appeared beneath them. They set down in a vacant lot in an industrial area, near some construction sites. Machines threw hulking shadows and skeletons of unfinished buildings made the spot feel like a necropolis. Under other circumstances she would have been frightened, but she doubted they’d meet anything worse than Dev.

  Teresa arched a brow. “You don’t know a park downtown?”

  Looking sheepish he shook his head. “I’ve never been here. We’ll take the bus.”

  “The bus,” she repeated in amusement.

  “Yes, so let’s look for a stop.”

  As she fell in step, Teresa said, “Okay, I have to ask. Why?”

  “Taxi drivers are a suspicious, cynical lot. It’s pretty hard to get them to accept anything but cold, hard cash.” His smile flickered in the dark. “I have better luck fudging technology, particularly that which run
s on energy. The credit machine from last night, for instance—the bus should have a pass reader and I can trick that pretty easily too. Plus the driver won’t be paying attention to my hands.”

  “If it’s a woman she’ll probably orgasm on the spot.”

  Dev ducked his head but he didn’t deny it. That was what an incubus did, after all.

  When he held out his hand, she clasped it in hers. A small spark lit the dark as they touched. Static. Not magic. Each time the contact grew a little easier. She even liked it, and maybe he wanted it that way, but she wouldn’t trade away her soul for it.

  The air smelled faintly of the sea. To the west lay the Georgia Strait, and past it, Vancouver Island. They walked about six blocks before coming to a Trans Link stop. That didn’t improve the area, however. Prostitutes stood in twos and threes, beggars lay wrapped in newspaper, and a man cooked chemicals on a spoon. In her old jeans and baggy sweatshirt, she fit the scene better than Dev; even her wind-tangled hair helped.

  “Stay close.” After glancing down for permission, which she gave with a nod, he put an arm around her.

  On cue someone stepped out of the alley behind them. Teresa sensed more than the saw the movement, but as she turned, the knife in the man’s hand rippled with reflected light. She stilled, hardly daring to breathe.

  “Wallets, watches, jewelry. Now!”

  She raised her arms to unfasten the tiny silver cross from around her throat, but Dev stilled her with a touch, speaking in a warning tone. “We’ve nothing to interest you.”

  The mugger scoffed. “Guy like you winds up lost in Gastown and you tell me you got nothing? Fuck you, pal. I got nothing. Now hand that shit over before I cut your girlfriend’s throat.”

  Dev’s voice dropped to a growl, gained dual sub-harmonic notes. “Walk away or you’ll never touch a woman again. Remember the problem you had on January 12th? That could become permanent. Your pride and joy will shrivel into a miserable little worm that rots away by inches until you die, screaming in agony. I repeat. Walk away.”

  “Dude, you are nuts.” Their would-be assailant didn’t walk, he ran.

  Letting out a slow breath, she asked, “Could you really do that?”

  He didn’t seem proud as he nodded. “I have power over human sexuality, Tess. I can drive lovers together and keep them apart. I can give them endless orgasms or render them unable to perform. I can inflict hideous incurable venereal plague…”

  “Uh, that’s good. I don’t need to know more.” Thankfully the bus arrived.

  Just as he’d said, he slid his fingers over the reader, which beamed as if he’d scanned a pass. The lady driver kept gazing at him in the rearview mirror until Teresa worried they might crash. She watched the lights passing in a colored blur through the tinted window. The neighborhoods improved, and by the time they got off, she felt quite out of place.

  All this trouble for a hot bath. She shook her head in wonder.

  “What?”

  “Just seems like an incredible amount of effort just so I can soak.”

  “You’re worth it,” he said quietly.

  Her hand tightened on his. Five minutes later, she stood gazing up at the hotel in all its many-storied glory. Shiny with chrome and glass, it wasn’t a place she would have chosen on her own but that didn’t matter.

  “There’s no way they’re letting us in,” she predicted.

  Dev grinned. “Have a little faith.”

  Following him, Teresa smiled at the unlikelihood of him asking that of her. What a luxurious place—she loved the marble floors, the spiral staircase and the huge chandelier. Instead of heading to the front desk, Dev strode toward the elevators as if he knew precisely where he was going. She hurried after him, and they rode up to seven.

  She shot him a questioning look. “What, Hell rents an apartment here?”

  “Wait and see.” He went along the hall, pausing briefly outside each door, until at last he ran his fingers over the card reader lock. It promptly flashed green. “After you. If they haven’t rented this room by now, they won’t need it tonight. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. But flip the safety catch just in case.”

  The room held up better than the ultramodern exterior. First, she’d never seen such a huge bed in her life, a four-poster done in rich cherry wood. The gold damask covers looked incredibly opulent. From the beige and white striped wallpaper to the twenty-seven inch TV, this wasn’t a room; it was a suite.

  Delighted, she ran to check out the bathroom: gilded fixtures, marble counters, mosaic tile floor, and a huge sunken tub with spa jets. She’d never been in such a thing, so she tore off her clothes. Though she wouldn’t know a five star hotel from experience, she bounced a little when she saw the selection of bath products and decided on the honey milk bubble bath. The monastery offered nothing more than a narrow shower stall, and university housing wasn’t known for luxury.

  Getting the water just right took some doing. Teresa spent an hour in the bathroom, all told, and didn’t spare a thought to how Dev might be entertaining himself. For about thirty seconds she felt guilty about how little praying she’d done over the past three days, but she trusted God knew what he was doing. No matter what the demon said about a wager, He wouldn’t have sent Dev without a good reason.

  And then the spa jets kicked in.

  By the time she emerged, pink-skinned and smelling of honey, she felt like a new woman. Steam whispered out the bathroom door as she opened it. The white terry robe enveloped her, making her feel cozy and warm. She laughed when she saw him sitting cross-legged on the bed, playing a race game on TV.

  “You’re not cheating, are you?”

  Dev started. “Uh, no. Certainly not.”

  “I just thought with your affinity for queering technology and all…”

  “Come here.” His blue gaze seared her as he took in damp, tousled hair and flushed skin, hinted at by the slight gap in the robe’s lapels. He put down the controller, curled his fingers, and she moved toward him as if he tugged unseen puppet strings.

  Her breathing unsteady, she sat down beside him. The satin damask felt sinful against her bare palms. “Wh-what?”

  “You look … amazing.” In his eyes she read a powerful need to touch but he only sat beside her, hands on his knees.

  “Thank you.”

  She felt amazing, and she feared such a heady sensation. Never had she known any good to come from lust. It was best suppressed and restrained, channeled and ignored. A shudder ran through her.

  “Kiss me, Tess.”

  Oh, diabolical. By putting the power in her hands it became entirely her choice how they touched, if they did. Her heart galloped. She wanted his mouth. If she trusted herself to sample that and nothing more—

  “I don’t know how,” she whispered.

  “Put your mouth on mine. I’ll show you.”

  Her lashes fluttered shut and she leaned in blind, seeking by heat and instinct until her lips glanced off his chin. He tilted his head, compensated, and his mouth felt like pressed silk beneath hers, warm and smooth. She knew nothing of what to expect but he didn’t take her in his arms.

  That was proscribed. His mouth plucked at hers, their only point of contact, not ravaging but seducing. The nutmeg and clove scent intensified as he coaxed her lips apart. Light, delicate, Dev nuzzled her top lip until it tingled. When he repeated the tease on her lower lip, heat blossomed in response, flaring to tiny, dazzling currents.

  The urge to throw herself on top of him boiled away inside her. She wanted to touch him. Feel him. To prevent yielding to that impulse, she clenched her hands into fists as he licked at her mouth. All too easily she could imagine how his tongue would feel down where she ached.

  Tempted beyond bearing, Teresa squeezed her thighs together and pulled back with a muffled moan. “Enough.”

  “Not nearly. You want me.” He licked his lips as if he could still taste her.

  “Yes,” she admitted, head bowed. “But not enough to pay t
he price. I’m sorry.”

  Dev held out a trembling hand. “I’m starving for you.”

  She felt drugged, unable to think. Impulse surged to the fore, reinforcing yesterday’s desire without the accompanying trepidation. The words spilled out before she could censor them. “I want to see you like you’ve seen me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Naked.”

  His blue eyes simmered with heat and urgency. “You’re going to toy with me? That seems cruel.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do. But fair is fair.”

  “So it is.” Dev laid back and his clothes melted away in the motion.

  Perhaps he wasn’t real but he was beautiful. Teresa admired his sculpted thighs and slightly concave stomach rippled with muscles. His chest spoke of lean strength, broadening to well-developed shoulders. To her astonishment he squirmed beneath the intensity of her gaze—doubtless he was unaccustomed to being studied so in any form.

  Quiet lightning ran between them as her hand hovered above his abdomen. When her fingers brushed him, butterfly soft, his stomach tightened. Their skin contrasted in a pretty visual, ivory and gold.

  “How does it feel?” She wondered whether his form possessed simulated nerve endings. Her curiosity stemmed less from intellectual curiosity however, and more from wanting to affect him as he did her.

  “Good.” Confusion kindled his expression as she ran her hands up his chest.

  Untouched. The word hummed in a soft refrain. He doesn’t know what will happen anymore than I do. Somehow, an even footing made it possible for her to continue.

  His skin felt smooth beneath her palms, but no pores, hair, or childhood scars marred him. If she hadn’t already believed, touching him would have convinced her. At first she caressed him in broad, sweeping movements from his thighs to his shoulders. Then she used her fingertips, dragging down over his chest with more subtle pressure.

  “Do you like it?” she asked, low.

  He wet his lips with his tongue. “Yes. In this skin I react like a man, though it’s never been tested quite like this.”