Devil to Pay (Night Huntress 3.5)

Blake couldn't reply, too occupied with gulping oxygen to try to form words. A dark head leaned over him, black hair falling around his shoulders.

"I can't save him," Mencheres stated flatly. "The demon inside him is too strong."

Chapter Seven

The sun had set an hour ago. Elise was tired, lack of sleep from this morning starting to catch up with her. Still, she didn't take Mencheres up on his offer to have someone else guard Blake while she rested. It seemed too cruel to pass Blake off to a stranger just so she could sleep, especially since people were acting like Blake was already dead.

She took Blake to the kitchen, knowing there would be plenty for him to eat. The humans who lived with Mencheres as willing blood donors for him and his entourage meant that the kitchen was stocked. Blake was ravenous, wolfing down three plates of food before looking embarrassed at his excess. Elise's stomach growled as well, but not for what Blake was eating. She pushed down her hunger with the same ruthlessness she'd used to forgo sleep. Blake didn't have long to live. The least Elise could do was to make these last days as comfortable as possible.

With that in mind, she'd refused to pack Blake up and start the journey to the salt flats tonight. There'd be time enough after Blake was fed and rested, she'd insisted to Mencheres, and he didn't argue. Bones was less agreeable, muttering that every minute they hesitated, the demon had a chance to possess someone else, continuing its carnage through a new person.

Elise could see Bones's logic. Even a couple days ago, she'd have agreed with it, but a lot had changed in the last twenty-four hours. Blake's first thought ever since she'd met him had been about what was best for other people. Well, Elise would be the one to think about what was best for him, and tonight, that wasn't loading him up in a car to drive to his death. Death would come soon enough for Blake, and that knowledge gnawed at Elise worse than her hunger or lack of sleep. It wasn't right. Long ago, Elise had been given a second chance. Why couldn't one be found for Blake?

Mencheres walked into the kitchen, silent as a shadow. Elise was sitting next to Blake on a barstool by the counter-top, close enough that she could feel and see Blake tense when he noticed the other vampire.

"What did you do to me before, in the other room?" Blake asked Mencheres, his voice almost casual.

"I suffocated you until you were between life and death. It was my hope that I could use your weakened condition to force the demon out and send it into the dog," was Mencheres's equally calm reply. "It didn't work. I'm sorry"

"And you did all that without even touching me." Blake sounded bemused. "You must be one powerful vampire."

For a second, Mencheres looked weary. "Not powerful enough. The demon in you is ancient and strong. It will grow stronger with each person it destroys, so I can't let it go free."

"No, you can't," Blake agreed, his jaw tightening. "I know better than anyone about the horrible things it will do. This needs to end."

Mencheres stared at Blake. "You're a very brave young man. I do regret what must be done."

Elise glanced away. She felt a stinging in her eyes, even if it had been longer than she could remember since the last time that happened.

"Mencheres, I need a razor," Elise said abruptly. "After Blake showers, he can shave."

Blake gave her a surprised look, but Mencheres's expression was grim.

"You can't leave him alone with the razor," Mencheres said. "The demon will know what we've planned. Xaphan will try very hard to kill Blake, so he can escape into an unknown host before Blake reaches the salt flats."

Blake snorted. "Before, the demon wouldn't let me kill myself. Now he wants to do the honors? And what are these salt flats I keep hearing about?"

Mencheres opened his mouth, but Elise answered, unable to keep the huskiness from her voice.

"Demons can jump into any living thing once their host dies, even an animal that's several miles away. So when we... when you die, there can't be anything alive nearby for miles."

"Wouldn't it be okay if the demon were to possess an animal?" Blake asked. "I mean, a possessed armadillo couldn't do much damage."

"Animal possession is very temporary," Mencheres replied. "The demon's goal is to get back into a person. It's easy to compel an animal to kill itself once people are around. Haven't you ever noticed that some animals seem to throw themselves into traffic? The driver of the first car to strike a possessed animal would, by virtue of closest contact, then become the next person the demon possessed."

Blake sighed. "It just keeps getting more twisted, doesn't it?"

"There's only one type of place where it's safe to force out a demon," Mencheres went on, filling the loaded silence. "The salt flats. Salt is a natural element for containing a demon. Once the host dies, the salt limits a demon's range to only a mile in every direction, and there are no humans or wildlife living on the salt flats."

Elise wished she knew what Blake was thinking so she could... what? Tell him things would work out? They wouldn't. There were so few things she could do to help him, and that knowledge made her feel worse than useless. Not only had she failed to save him, she'd be one of his executioners.

"Okay." Blake nodded briskly. "That makes sense. I'm glad you guys know how to stop it. I wish I had found you sooner."

"It seems like fate that you found us at all," Mencheres said, staring at Elise. "Demons feed on rage, hatred, jealously-all our lesser emotions. Once they've consumed everything they can out of a person, they move on. Elise tells me you were possessed when a woman ran in front of your car several months ago. You understand now what happened. The demon used her up, then it let her kill herself to find a new body. It would have eventually done the same to you."

Mencheres paused, his gaze flicking back to Blake. "You must be very strong. As a rule, humans don't last long before the demon controls them completely. For you to still have periods of control against a demon of Xaphan's caliber-remarkable."

Blake shoved his plate away and held out his hands. "Do you see the blood still staining these?" he asked, intensity pouring off each syllable. "There is nothing remarkable about being a murderer, and that's what this thing has made me."

Elise wanted to tell Blake that no, he wasn't the killer. He was the weapon, and weapons didn't have a choice. But even though she believed that, the words eluded her.

She stood. She might not be able to say anything to ease Blake's guilt, but she could still do something.

"Let's clean the blood off you, for a start."

Chapter Eight

Blake stood under the hot spray of the shower and closed his eyes. This felt good. Normal. It used to be his routine every morning and night. Now he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a hot shower. The stall was big, too. One of those upscale versions where there were multiple heads and two entrances to it. These vampires sure lived in style.

He was lathering his hair for a second time when Elise stepped into the shower. Blake froze so completely that he didn't even wipe his eyes when the suds trickled down to them.

She was na**d, her body slender and sleek and so unbelievably beautiful that Blake wondered for a moment if he were hallucinating. Elise took the shampoo off the alcove in a nonchalant fashion, pausing to let her gaze sweep over him.

"Without all that dirt, you're younger than I thought you were," she said, sounding faintly surprised. Her hand swiped his face, brushing the soap from his eyes and flicking his sudsy hair back. "You look completely different."

I could say the same thing about you, Blake thought, unable to tear his eyes away from her pale skin, long legs, petite round br**sts, and tight cluster of hair between her thighs. His c*ck noticed, too, waking up and stretching as if to get a better look.

Blake spun around. Despite everything he'd been through, it looked like embarrassment wasn't beyond him after all.

"Uh, Elise, I don't think you should be showering with me," Blake managed.

He heard the water hit her as she moved closer. God, the thought of how Elise would look with rivers of water streaking down her skin made him harder. All at once, the shower stall felt far too small.

"Why not? I have to keep watch over you, and I needed to shower. I left you alone to relieve your bodily functions, but it's more efficient for us to shower together."

She sounded utterly clinical, as if discussing carpooling versus taking a bus. Obviously, being na**d in the shower with him meant nothing to Elise. Was it the demon in him that made her consider him as less than a man? Or was it the fact that he was human, and she was a vampire?

Either way, Elise's complete dismissal made anger flare in Blake. He turned around, his erection jutting out and almost hitting her in the stomach.

"As you can see," Blake began, "there's a problem with your efficiency strategy."

Startled, her gaze traveled over Blake in an entirely different manner than it had before, pausing at his chest and stomach before moving lower. With her mouth half-open and the water clinging to her just as sensuously as Blake had imagined, his c*ck jumped, like it was begging for her touch.

She turned and walked out of the shower without another word. Blake closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh. Then he began to attack his hair with the shampoo again.

Elise was shaken by her reaction to Blake in the shower. Seeing a na**d man shouldn't have had any effect on her. Becoming a vampire tended to kill modesty along with a heartbeat, so the sight of bare flesh didn't hold the same provocative taboo that it did for humans. Plus, she was used to showering in front of strangers, considering she took the majority of her showers at the fitness club.

So the wave of need that hit Elise when she saw Blake na**d was a complete surprise. Blake was long-limbed and muscular, his thinness making his body look chiseled instead of gaunt. The dark, crisp hair that covered Blake's chest narrowed when it reached his stomach, then led in a trail to his groin before lightly dusting his thighs. Looking at Blake, Elise had been overwhelmed by an urge to touch him. She'd stroked his face and flicked her fingers through his hair before she could even stop herself.

It never occurred to Elise that Blake would want her. She was a vampire, he was human. Plus, she was participating in his death, a fact Blake was well aware of. For all his agreement over why he had to die, still, Elise's position as one of his executioners would hardly warrant affectionate feelings.

Of course, maybe that desire was Blake's natural reaction to a na**d woman-any woman, even her, cold lifeless thing that she was. The thought relieved and saddened Elise. Just stop, she told herself. It was one thing when you were forcing yourself to care about Blake to keep from killing him. Now you're caring too much. Why can't you feel things like a normal person, instead of it constantly being all or nothing?

Blake's coming out of the bathroom interrupted her mental chastisement. He had a towel around his hips, his black hair touching his shoulders and curling from moisture.

"Sorry," he said, blue eyes steady. "Maybe group showers are just what vampires do, but they're more than I can handle."

Elise had to look away. Blake's earnestness made her heart give an odd lurch, like something was yanking at it.

"I'm the one who's sorry," she replied, fighting to keep her voice cool. "It won't happen again."

Blake cleared his throat like he was about to say something, then stopped. Elise glanced up, waiting, but his mouth was set in a tight line. Whatever it was he'd been about to say, he'd decided against it.

"Here." Elise indicated the chair across from her. "Sit. I'll shave you."

Mencheres had dropped off those essentials along with some clothes for Blake, since they were close to the same size. Blake didn't argue about shaving himself. He just sat in the chair and tilted his head back.

Elise approached, her gaze fastened on the long line of Blake's throat where his pulse throbbed so temptingly. She licked her lips. What would it be like to taste him?

Stop it, she rebuked herself at once. He needs your help, not your selfishness.

She lathered Blake's neck, working quickly with the razor so she didn't have to be so near to him. Blake's scent was a mixture of nervousness, weariness, and something else. Something spicy Elise couldn't name since she hadn't been able to determine Blake's natural scent underneath the camouflaging odors of blood and death before. His pulse increased every time she made a stroke with the razor. Was he worried about a vampire holding a sharp object to his throat? Wondering whether she'd be overcome with bloodlust if she accidentally nicked his skin?

"You're in no danger of my feeding from you," Elise told him after he twitched when she leaned in close to shave under his jaw. Even with the dabs of shaving cream clinging to his face, without his former shaggy beard, he was more handsome than Elise first realized.

"Do I still smell too bad?" he teased.

No. You smell wonderful, and I'd like to bury my fangs in your throat and hear you moan while I suck your blood.

"I'm not, ah, hungry," Elise stuttered. Where had her icy aloofness gone? Why was he affecting her so much?

She finished with a last upward stroke of the razor, jumping back to gesture to the clothes on the bed.

"These are for you. I'll leave while you change."

Elise almost ran from the room, slamming the door and leaning against it while clutching the razor in her hand.

Chapter Nine

The largest salt flats in the United States were in Utah. Flying would have been the quickest way to get there, but even though Mencheres had a private plane, he didn't choose that option. Maybe he was trying to give Blake a couple days to prepare for his death.