was for him and him alone.
He lifted his head. And stopped.
Everyone around them was motionless. No. Not just motionless. Frozen. Like the population of Kings Cross had been replaced with statues. So lifelike one could almost swear they were once real. He straightened slowly, staring about himself in stunned disbelief, his grip on Death’s hair and arse dropping away. “What the fuck?”
Death gazed up at him, her breath shallow and rapid, her eyes shimmering white, radiant light. “It’s how I get my work done,” she said, voice shaky. Her arms still wrapped his body, a confused frown pulling at her eyebrows. “I’m not governed by human and earthly temporal laws.” Expression growing more puzzled, she pulled away from him, by a fraction. “You try claiming five souls at the exact same moment and see how well you can do it without stepping out of the time phase.” Her hips still pressed to him, she studied his face, her frown growing deeper. “Why…how…how are you making me feel…?” Her eyes shimmered white light and a soft hitching breath caught in her throat. “I…?”
A surge of unadulterated hunger roared through Ven at the somehow primitive sound, so forceful and heady he almost sank his fangs into her jugular immediately. He was so fucking hungry on every level, and she was so fucking delicious and potent and willing…
Fresh saliva flooded his mouth and he almost moved. Almost.
White eyes flickered to pale, ice blue. “Steven?”
He sucked in a deep breath, forcing the intoxicating taste of her scent from his mind as he stared down into her face. Hell, he’d thought he’d wanted her in the strip joint, but that was nothing compared to this. He’d never wanted a woman so bad, but she wasn’t just a woman. She was Death and he’d found her with his only brother in the middle of the night.
No matter how much he wanted her, how ferociously he hungered for her, he still couldn’t betray Patrick. Death had come to his kid brother in the middle of the night and Ven still didn’t believe it wasn’t to take his soul.
Staring into her face, his body screaming in denied pleasure, his demon screaming in denied release, he slowly lifted his arms and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Return me to real time, Reaper,” he growled, removing her hands from his hair and lowering her arms to her side. “Now.”
She studied him, her frown fading, her forehead smoothing. A strange, ambiguous expression crossed her flawless face and then she stepped backward, eyes unreadable, chin tilted. “I’m beginning to wish I’d never met the Watkins brothers,” she stated before, with a soft sigh and a shake of her head, she vanished.
Ven blinked.
People walked and pushed and hurried past him, hookers and tourists and businessmen alike. Pushing past him as if they’d never been frozen in time. Darlinghurst Road was once again a living, breathing strip of sin. He looked about himself, doing everything in his power to remain calm. He was hungry and confused and angry as all hell and Death had just played him for a fool.
He glared at the pedestrians before lifting his head to the sky. Shit. It was almost day break. He needed to get home, no matter how hungry he was, no matter how horny he was, before he became a charred hunk of ash.
He began to draw an image of his home high on the Bondi Beach hills into his mind when a voice almost tore his head apart. Patrick’s voice.
Fuck! It’s trying to tear me in two!
Chapter Five
The creature swung its massive head, staring at him with pupiless eyes. Its maw stretched wide, revealing jagged teeth formed by tiny grains of sand, glistening with moisture in the rising sun’s faint light. Teeth, Patrick didn’t doubt, more than capable of tearing into his flesh with hideous ease.
He didn’t halt his sprint. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fully formed yet. That meant it was vulnerable. He hoped.
He smashed into it, driving his shoulder into its gut.
He lifted his head. And stopped.
Everyone around them was motionless. No. Not just motionless. Frozen. Like the population of Kings Cross had been replaced with statues. So lifelike one could almost swear they were once real. He straightened slowly, staring about himself in stunned disbelief, his grip on Death’s hair and arse dropping away. “What the fuck?”
Death gazed up at him, her breath shallow and rapid, her eyes shimmering white, radiant light. “It’s how I get my work done,” she said, voice shaky. Her arms still wrapped his body, a confused frown pulling at her eyebrows. “I’m not governed by human and earthly temporal laws.” Expression growing more puzzled, she pulled away from him, by a fraction. “You try claiming five souls at the exact same moment and see how well you can do it without stepping out of the time phase.” Her hips still pressed to him, she studied his face, her frown growing deeper. “Why…how…how are you making me feel…?” Her eyes shimmered white light and a soft hitching breath caught in her throat. “I…?”
A surge of unadulterated hunger roared through Ven at the somehow primitive sound, so forceful and heady he almost sank his fangs into her jugular immediately. He was so fucking hungry on every level, and she was so fucking delicious and potent and willing…
Fresh saliva flooded his mouth and he almost moved. Almost.
White eyes flickered to pale, ice blue. “Steven?”
He sucked in a deep breath, forcing the intoxicating taste of her scent from his mind as he stared down into her face. Hell, he’d thought he’d wanted her in the strip joint, but that was nothing compared to this. He’d never wanted a woman so bad, but she wasn’t just a woman. She was Death and he’d found her with his only brother in the middle of the night.
No matter how much he wanted her, how ferociously he hungered for her, he still couldn’t betray Patrick. Death had come to his kid brother in the middle of the night and Ven still didn’t believe it wasn’t to take his soul.
Staring into her face, his body screaming in denied pleasure, his demon screaming in denied release, he slowly lifted his arms and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Return me to real time, Reaper,” he growled, removing her hands from his hair and lowering her arms to her side. “Now.”
She studied him, her frown fading, her forehead smoothing. A strange, ambiguous expression crossed her flawless face and then she stepped backward, eyes unreadable, chin tilted. “I’m beginning to wish I’d never met the Watkins brothers,” she stated before, with a soft sigh and a shake of her head, she vanished.
Ven blinked.
People walked and pushed and hurried past him, hookers and tourists and businessmen alike. Pushing past him as if they’d never been frozen in time. Darlinghurst Road was once again a living, breathing strip of sin. He looked about himself, doing everything in his power to remain calm. He was hungry and confused and angry as all hell and Death had just played him for a fool.
He glared at the pedestrians before lifting his head to the sky. Shit. It was almost day break. He needed to get home, no matter how hungry he was, no matter how horny he was, before he became a charred hunk of ash.
He began to draw an image of his home high on the Bondi Beach hills into his mind when a voice almost tore his head apart. Patrick’s voice.
Fuck! It’s trying to tear me in two!
Chapter Five
The creature swung its massive head, staring at him with pupiless eyes. Its maw stretched wide, revealing jagged teeth formed by tiny grains of sand, glistening with moisture in the rising sun’s faint light. Teeth, Patrick didn’t doubt, more than capable of tearing into his flesh with hideous ease.
He didn’t halt his sprint. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fully formed yet. That meant it was vulnerable. He hoped.
He smashed into it, driving his shoulder into its gut.
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