His Darkest Salvation (Jaguar Warriors 3)

After he’d left the jet and driven back to his condo, his mind had been all over the place, but one thing had become clear. Jaden was the key to everything. It was no accident they’d met three years earlier. He didn’t believe that for one second.

Just as it was no accident that she’d been at his place the night he returned to the human realm. She’d also been in the jungle the night he’d been banished to hell. As far as he was concerned, she was up to her ass in the entire mess. He needed answers, and he needed them yesterday.

His eyes drifted back to the lobby, over to a young couple waiting to check in. Their children laughed and played hide-and-seek while they held on to each other and watched, their faces full of love.

They had no fucking clue what walked the earth and what waited beneath. He gritted his teeth and drained the glass.

No fucking clue at all.

“I’ll buy you another.”

Julian turned to the blonde. She’d moved closer and was smiling at him. Her eyes were unnaturally green, her generous breasts on display, pert and firm. Her overlarge lips were wet as she ran her tongue over them in an open invitation for a quick fuck.

She was all kinds of plastic.

His sensitive nostrils flared. He smelled her interest.

He smiled at her, then glanced up at the clock perched above the bar. It was early. He had more than enough time to ease the ache that had taken hold the night before.

She moved closer and signaled to the bartender.

“Two more of what he’s drinking.”

Christ, even her voice was controlled, the accent in her words uncomfortable, as if she were trying desperately to be something other than what she was. The woman was the total opposite of Jaden.

A vision of the dark-eyed witch burned behind his eyes. She’d been magnificent fighting the demons, and as he let his mind settle on an image of her, with her hair flying everywhere in the heat of battle, he was instantly hard. The blonde giggled as she slid up against him.

“You ready to go, tiger?” She opened her mouth and laughed. A practiced line to be sure. “I have an hour before the bus arrives.”

Julian looked down at her, and even though his body was aching and unfulfilled, he knew she wouldn’t cut it. There was no way in hell the woman could satisfy what he needed.

She wouldn’

t even come close.

Julian stared down into the empty tumbler and frowned viciously. He was pissed off. He had no time for this shit. No time for complications.

No time for emotion. He much preferred the blank canvas that had draped his soul for the last six months.

“My name is—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck if your name is Cleopatra; it ain’t gonna happen.” The words were ripped from his throat, and it gave him perverse pleasure to watch her green eyes fade, her smile fall.

“Are you for real?” she retorted, embarrassed, confused, as her long lacquered nails fluffed the blond strands of hair that fell around her shoulders. She looked around as if afraid they’d been overheard.

Julian couldn’t explain the fury, the rage that flushed through him. It left him panting as he struggled to control the darkness that sank into his head.

“Lady,” he whispered hoarsely, “you should go.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“He’s been called worse.”

They both turned as Declan O’Hara slid up against the bar. “He wouldn’t be any good anyways.” The tall Irishman smiled at the blonde and winked. “Trust me, he hasn’t had sex in a seriously long time; I doubt he’d last more than two minutes.”

The woman’s mouth fell open, and she stuttered, but no words came from within. She shook her head and turned on her heel, disappearing into the crowd within seconds.

“Nice,” Declan murmured.