Page 15 of Sweet Violence
"I should go slay your enemies," I said, clearing my throat and ignoring my tingling cheeks. "Andmine," I added quickly when his red eyes went all soft and adoring. "They're my enemies, too. That's why I'm going off to slay them. Obviously."
Ah yes, so eloquent. Good job, Avie.
"Be careful," the devil said, suddenly serious. He crossed his arms over his chest, in danger of ripping the sleeves of his sleek black shirt. "If you're in danger, I'll come for you. Just reach for me through the bond."
Yeah, I totally knew how to do that.
"And I'll expect you to come home and check in with me in three days." He caught my chin with a gentle grip, lifting my face. Fuck, he was tall even in this form. I'd get a crick in my neck always looking up at him. "I'll be with you in your dreams."
"Good plan. See you in three days then."
What did you do when you were parting from your new mate who also happened to be the devil? I was hardly going to kiss him before I went out the door. A handshake was too stuffy. I settled for a nod.
A nod was respectful right? He was the devil. It was practically a bow.
I dipped my head, grabbed the bag I'd packed, turned away—and was promptly spun back by a clawed hand on my bicep.
Before I could even process his intention, a hot mouth covered mine, and the devil kissed me with enough heat and skill to make my head spin.
I curled the fingers of one hand into his shirt, wrinkling the black satin, and kissed him hard. A groan shook my throat when his tongue answered the parting of my lips, and he kissed me with a savagery and desperation that made my heartbeat kick up.
When my lips were surely bruised and my legs were a little unsteady, he let me go, a satisfied smile on his crimson lips.
"Nowyou can go," he said, fire-filled eyes heavy-lidded, my own hunger reflected in them.
Part of me considered staying here just to sleep with the devil, but I shook myself out of the horny haze and focused on the task ahead of me.
Think of the private island, Avie,I told myself and walked out the door.
Just think of the island…
5
Do you know what I hated almost as much as chocolate raisins?
Walking for miles in the godforsaken, baking wasteland that spanned between Dev's fortress and the red mountains.
Sweat trickled down my back and, paranoid to be so out in the open, I smacked my hand over my shoulder blade, spinning to stab whatever touched me with one of the sharp knives from my weapons room.
"Nothing there, paranoid bitch," I laughed at myself, rolling my eyes and dropping my hand.
The back of my neck itched because it was as hot as a damn oven out here,notbecause someone was watching me. I was an idiot.
I trudged on through the scrubland, regretting bringing a backpack even though I already needed the water and food inside it, and spare clothes werenevera bad idea. Out here, with craggy, half collapsed mountains all around me and orange-ish dust in the air, the ground liberallycoveredin the stuff? Yeah, I was gonna need a change of clothes when I stopped walking.
My poor leather jacket had been tied around my waist hours ago, and it was hardly recognisable.
"I'll clean you up later," I promised it, patting the sleeves knotted at my belly. "There won't be a single speck of dust left when I'm done, you'll be as good as new. I swear it."
And now I was talking to a jacket…
But in my defence, it was silent as fuck out here. The only thing I could hear were my crunching steps and the wind that thought it was a fun idea to blow the orange dust into a mini-tornado every now and then.
"This private island better be fancy as fuck," I muttered, ducking my head when dust blasted at my face, tiny grains scratching my cheeks and lips. "I'm not going through this shit for anything less than five star accommodation."
Not to mention, the devil had sold me on the wholeslaughter and bloodshedaspect of this mission and conveniently forgotten to mention the trekking, the sweating, and thedust. Conniving bastard owed me luxury.
When the wind blew in a different direction, I dragged a spare shirt from my backpack and used it to wipe the grit off my eyelashes, loudly blowing my nose becauseyesit was up there, too.1
