Page 26 of Try As I Smite
Alasdair’s eyes glittered with an anticipation she could almost feel gathering in his muscles. He opened his mouth to speak but paused, an emotion skittering across his face that she wasn’t sure of. Not hesitation exactly. Almost…determination.
Which was, of course, when her world went black.
Chapter Six
“Fuck,” Alasdair muttered into Delilah’s hair, pulling her closer as they waited to land.
Damnable timing.
“I’m really getting sick of this blinding business and not knowing where we’re going next,” he grumbled.
Especially when he was still hard as a fucking rock.
Grumbling was not a thing for him. Not to others at least. Not even in his head, usually. Grumbling was a sign of weakness, and a leader couldn’t show any of that.
And yet, here he was…grumbling.
Her chuckle tickled against his skin and expanded inside his chest like a balloon filling with helium. For the first time in his life he was tempted to tighten his arms around her, when cuddling was the last thing he did with women.
He didn’t want a quick fuck in dreamworld. He wanted more. Only what could more possibly look like? This was Delilah. He still had no idea what powers she held. Hell, she’d refused to help him with this demon problem beyond embroiling him in this Dickensian misadventure. As the leader of the Covens Syndicate, he knew it was expected that he would find a partner from among his own kind. A partner as dedicated to his people as he.
That word—partner—pinged around in his head like a pinball, lighting up different spots in his mind in rapid succession.
Before he could even begin to unravel his thoughts, hampered by his pulsing dick demanding release and short-circuiting his brain, the darkness lifted. They were back in her office.
Swinging out of his arms, Delilah quickly rearranged her clothing, though her panties hadn’t come with them and her hair had to stay down because the pins were on the floor somewhere else. Mental note, whatever wasn’t attached to them apparently didn’t move with them from place to place.
Alasdair allowed himself a small second to admire the rumpled, sexy version of this woman. He’d done that. He’d unraveled her.
He wanted to do it again, but he had bigger responsibilities. Bigger needs. He needed to stop letting this alternate universe distract him from that.
He glanced around, wondering what vision was next. Another trip to her past, probably. Except…the scene was too familiar, as though they’d just left it. The papers were still scattered on the floor from when Hazah had sent him back.
Maybe they were in the present now?
The landscape outside the windows showed night had fallen. The Denver city lights had cast a pink glow across the sky, mountains no longer in view, Christmas lights strung up all across the tops of buildings in an array of twinkling colors, stars doing their best to compete with the ambient light.
Night already?
That reality jerked him out of the fantasy he’d allowed himself to stray into.
Dammit. They’d been in Hazah’s lessons too long. His people—
“Something’s wrong,” Delilah said, urgency in her voice.
“Wrong?” he asked. “How?”
“This isn’t—” She shook her head. “This doesn’t feel the same. Like it’s not part of the visions, or it’s warped somehow. Can’t you feel it?”
Alasdair focused his senses outward, frowning. She was right. The air felt…damp, heavy here in a way it hadn’t anywhere else in the memories they’d been sent to witness.
“You certainly took your sweet time.” An odd voice sounded from the darkness, similar to the dark rumble of a dragon shifter. By the windows, the shadows twitched. Then twitched again until the darkness seemed to writhe as a form appeared and solidified.
A man, or something the shape of a man, stepped into the soft glow of the lamp on the corner of Delilah’s desk.
Demon.
Not one inhabiting a human body. It was beautiful in a way most humans couldn’t stand to be around, driven to heights of jealousy by features both bold and perfectly balanced. The ultimate physical specimen. Except for the pitch-black eyes.
