“Do we need to drink that?” Emery asked in a low voice. He sounded unsure.
That made two of them.
Magic pumped and pulsed around them, pounding through her. It infused her blood and sank into her core. Touch. Kiss. Please. Be pleased.
“Yes, it is part of the ritual.” Darius stopped behind a sticklike creature that only came up to Penny’s chest. “I will be drinking it as well. It is pleasant and harmless, and you only need a mouthful.”
“Doesn’t that make you crave blood?” Emery asked.
“In such a small quantity, it won’t be an issue.”
“That’s good, because you won’t be getting blood from me.” Penny gripped Emery’s hands harder, her core pounding in time with the pulsing magic. It slid over her, incredibly erotic, stealing her breath. “I want to go home.”
“It’s going to be fine, Penny Bristol,” Emery whispered, his sweet breath dusting her face. “You are perfectly safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“This type of demon is completely safe, I assure you.” Darius stepped up, almost at the dais now. A crowd waited around and behind them, but no one pushed. The entire situation was orderly. “They might ask for your time, but they will not demand it, and they will not attempt to take it by force. It is forbidden. To do so would mean death.”
“Who distributes that punishment?” Emery asked, stepping up again, ever closer.
Taste. Lick. Enjoy.
“I assume you or Penny would, should it come to that. It is certainly within your power.”
Emery nodded. He’d obviously been asking if they could take matters into their own hands. Green light.
Suck. Fondle. Enjoy.
“Bugger balls,” Penny whispered, shutting her eyes and trying to block out that pounding need. She craved the kind of satisfaction only Emery could supply. The deep, hard— “It’s getting to me. Their magic is getting to me.”
Darius glanced over, a small smile playing across his lips. “Mon coeur will be incredibly angry she missed this.”
“It would be a running joke until the end of time.” Emery chuckled darkly.
Penny elbowed him. “Don’t join in with him. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Sorry,” Emery murmured.
They stepped up to the front of the line now. The demon distributing the drink on their side of the cauldron was wearing chaps. It turned around, and part of it swung down around its knees.
“Nope.” Penny tried to back up. She bumped into the creature behind her. “This is crazy. We’re not here for this.”
Darius drank out of the offered cup. “This is the best place for us right now. You need to regain your energy and strength. I do not think anyone will look for us here until they’ve exhausted more obvious ideas. After tonight, you’ll be left to your own devices. As R—my dearest would say, suck it up. Pun intended.”
“You just sound lame when you say it,” Penny groused. “Not to mention we are spreading germs…” She paused as the leader climbed up onto the dais near her, a smile on its leathery face.
“Little flenchlin.” It took a cup and looked down at her. “I am excited to see you transform.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” she mumbled as the demon turned and dipped the cup into the cauldron.
Eyes on Penny again, it gave the cup to Emery. “Your partner will go first, just this once.”
“Great gravy without a boat,” she said as Emery sniffed the contents.
“If you didn’t need us so badly,” he told Darius, shaking his head a little, “there is no way in hell I would trust you this much.”
“Understood, Mr. Westbrook. You will be able to resist the temptations of the drink, if you choose. It is more potent than the blood you had earlier, but not horribly so, I shouldn’t think.”
“Resist the temptation?” The leader shook its head and chuckled. “Why ever would you want to resist something so natural? Enjoy it. Soak it up. Revel in it.” Its light eyes flashed.
Emery drained the cup, then handed it back. He licked his lips. “Tastes…good.” He pulled his hand free of Penny’s grasp and ran it down her back. “Amazing, actually. It tastes like…” He licked his lips again.
“It tastes like carnal sin.” The demon laughed deeply as it refilled the cup.
She took the cup from it, scowling for all she was worth. The contents swished in the glass—deep purple, not more than a mouthful, as Darius had said.
“It won’t hurt you, Miss Bristol,” Darius said. “I know very well that I would be skinned alive and eternally slaughtered if I were to ever harm you. That drink is safe.”
She growled, steeled her courage, knowing that if Reagan were here, she’d be taunting Penny something awful, and then downed the liquid.
The explosion in her mouth matched the magic in the air, still pounding through her body. The complex grouping of flavors spiraled through her senses. She couldn’t even describe it—rich chocolate, subtle spices, that wine Darius served on his island, home-baked apple pie…