Sweet Ruin

THIRTY-NINE

Rune’s harried thoughts weren’t enough to keep his mind off the yawning drop beneath his feet.

He and Josephine had navigated carved steps to reach the Plankway in the Sky—a wooden path thousands of feet in the air, affixed to the side of the sheer mountain, one of the steepest on this world.

Strangely, the lift that would’ve saved them hours of ascent was out of order.

Senseless thrill-seeking humans were about, so he and Josephine couldn’t trace to the top. Besides, he couldn’t see where to land, and he’d never been there before.

He sidled along the narrow path, cobbled-together from scrap boards. The plankway had no railing, just a length of chain stretched across the rock face for a handhold. He gripped it with clammy palms. The sun beat down on them, and sweat dripped from his forehead, burning his eyes.

Rune had few true fears; acrophobia, the fear of heights, was one of them.

Ahead, Josephine bounded along, utterly fearless.

Utterly surprising.

Rune’s determination to bed her had only deepened. Her show of strength fueled his desire, but sex would also bind her to him—and therefore to the Møriør.

His mission had expanded: kill Nïx and recruit Josephine. And once Rune did, would the brother follow his sister to their side?

The Møriør could have two hybrids of unimaginable power.

He lost sight of her around a sharp bend. Not far behind him, adrenaline-pumped mortals laughed and yelled to each other.

He transferred his sweating grip from one chain to another. He was seven feet tall; these boards weren’t intended to hold someone of his size.

When Josephine skipped back to him, the planks vibrated just from her scant weight. The rusted bolts attaching wood to stone squeaked.

Perspiration dotted her forehead and misted her thin T-shirt. Tendrils of her shining hair were damp. Sun struck her face, and he marveled anew that she was a day-walker. In the light, she seemed as delicate as gossamer, her pale skin slightly pinkened. She was exhilarated, her eyes appearing even brighter against those seductive shadows.

He was glad she wore no glamour. Her looks were forever unique to her. He could stare at her spectral face for hours.

“Up ahead, the view is sick! You can see miles down.” She’d discovered his discomfort and delighted in giving him grief. “There’re no more planks. It’s just little foot holes carved into the rock. Hmm. Your feet are really big. I wonder if they’ll even fit.”

Josephine could float or ghost or whatever she called it. She could all but fly.

When she casually leaned a shoulder against the rock and crossed her arms over her chest, he wanted to snag her close.

“Why are you afraid? If you fall, you can trace right back here.”

“I’m not afraid. I’m . . . cautious. I’ve told you I didn’t grow up with the ability to teleport. My cautiousness developed during my childhood.”

“But you can trace now.”

He knew that. Yet phobias weren’t rational. “This is not my natural element.” He’d been born and raised to labor in the fens, assassinate Magh’s enemies, and fuck her political targets. He was never supposed to climb mountains.

“Your natural element seems to be on top of nymphs. Starting to realize how limiting that is?” She gave him an exaggerated frown.

Despite his unease, he yearned to kiss her quiet. “I want to be on top of you.”

She shimmied around him, holding on to the chain with the crook of a finger. “All you have to do is whisper promises in my ear.”

She made no secret she wanted more from Rune—talking about love and commitments—but he suspected this was merely the infatuation of a very young female. “I’ll have you eventually. I know you crave sex with me.”

“I crave a lot of things I don’t get. Them’s the breaks.”

“It’s not possible for me to be exclusive.”

“Possible?” She snorted. “Because you’re such a lady-killer? Because your big swinging dick says, ‘Baby, I gotta be free’?”

“Maybe it’s not that I would desire other women. As a secrets master, I use sex to get information. That’s my job—but you’d expect me to quit it right at the Accession?” What in the gods’ names would it take for someone to accept him as is?

She nodded with understanding. “One day you’ll find a nice female who’ll put up with your ‘job’. Listen to my words, Rune: I am not that woman. If you stepped out on me, I’d kick your ass to the curb.”

“You think I couldn’t seduce you to see things my way?”

“Never. Your best bet is to forget all this”—she gestured at her body—“and find that dark fey you had a lead on.”

He frowned at the reminder. During the two days he’d held vigil over Josephine, he could’ve returned to Loa’s, enjoying the shopkeeper and getting that lead. In the past, he would’ve hounded Loa.

Now, he had difficulty picturing himself with any female other than Josephine. “Perhaps I could be persuaded to try an open relationship with you—a long-term commitment that allows us to stray, but always to return to the bed we share.”

“That’s your idea of a commitment? Maybe we call it something different where I come from.” The little wench winked at him. “In any case, why would I settle for less than I need when I’m only twenty-five?”

“Because you aren’t fixed in your ways.”

“Says who? I want promises that my guy’ll be in one bed: mine.”

“No doubt a vow to the Lore? You’re power-mad for those vows. What if we committed, and you realized your feelings for me were just an infatuation? A schoolgirl crush? We’ve known each other for such a short time.”

Instead of reassuring him she felt more, Josephine said, “I bet I could get Desh to make me a pledge.”

Rune’s eyes narrowed. “By the way, a male demon’s horns are considered sexual organs. Your asking to touch them was as good as offering a hand job. You probably didn’t know that, since you’re mentally the equivalent of a human. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re right. I didn’t know that.” She tapped a black claw to her chin. “But I will the next time I ask him.”

Rune clenched his jaw. She could proposition Deshazior—doing anything she pleased with the demon—and Rune couldn’t say a word about it.

Whatever she read in his expression made hers light up. “My old man’s jealous of Desh! I’ll bring you around.”

“Or maybe I’m furious that a fledgling storm demon disrespected me. He was only a twinkle in his sire’s eyes when I was six thousand years old!”

In a singsong tone, she said, “Jea-hel-lous.” She floated higher to nip the tip of his sensitive ear!

He didn’t know if that made him want to fuck her, spank her, or hug her. “Perhaps I’ll run into some Orea up here, nymphs who live on high mountaintops. Then we’ll see who’s jealous.”

She alighted on the plank again. “And what would you do with them? Bone them? When you’re so scared?”

“I’m not scared. I’m just not overjoyed.”

“My man is old and jealous and scared too.” The sun hit her dazzling smile.

Gods, she was stunning. “I’d simply rather be somewhere else. Now, shut up, child.”

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I did this?” She jumped up and down, bouncing the plank. “Will the Orea come and save their favorite stud?”

“You’ll pay for this when we get to solid ground.”

“What if I did this?” She inched closer to him. Closer. She didn’t stop when she reached him, just proceeded—into his body.

“Josephine, no.” Chills skittered up his spine. Yet at the same time, having her inside him was curiously . . . erotic.

They began to dematerialize. “What are you doing?” Dread overwhelmed him when his fingers passed through the chain.

She stepped off the fucking ledge; they hovered in the air.

He peered straight down at the drop. His lungs seized, his heart about to explode. Trace away! Would she move with him? Or would he throw her off? What if she lost control and fell? Mind in chaos, he yelled, “Enough!”

She floated him back to the plank, then disentangled herself. Once she’d solidified beside him, his phobia kicked in with a vengeance, applying to her as well. “Stay on this godsdamned plank.” He shoved her between him and the mountain—leaving room only for his toes to remain on the board.

“What’d you do that for? You’re hanging off the edge now.”

He bit out, “I don’t know. You need to be kept close. But not bloody inside me.” In this position, he could see straight down her shirt to her pale cleavage. Just to distract him, a bead of perspiration trickled past her necklace, down between those alabaster mounds. When he focused on that view, he found this situation wasn’t as troubling. In fact, he was hard. He wanted to lick the sweat from every inch of her skin.

She walked her fingers up his chest, twining her hands behind his neck. “My dark fey’s protecting me again?”

He dragged his gaze to her face. “It wouldn’t be the first time. I did try to safeguard you below.”

“You were so fast against Desh! And you’re a lot stronger than I thought. Which is saying something since I saw you drop a building when I spied on you.”

He’d never scented her when she’d watched him—because she’d been air. “My strength comes with age. In the Lore, old man means strong man.”

“I feel your strength when I’m inside you. Possessing you gives me a high.”

“You’ve done it to me more than once?” It struck him. “In Tortua.”

She nodded. “I wanted to make sure I had an out if you tried to gank me or something. So I found an in.”

“Why would you ever materialize? You’re invincible as long as you’re intangible. Why not go twenty-four hours a day?”

“I like having a body.”

He would like having her body as well. “Have you possessed others when they have sex?”

She grinned. “Oh, yeah.”

He clutched her closer. “Do you make them do things?”

“I’m a voyeur only. I try not to make shells move. Messes with their minds.”

“You don’t say.” His jaw was sore from his own hits. “I had no idea why I was punching myself in the face. And then to step off the ledge?”

“I usually can’t sense anything inside a shell, but I tasted your fear and felt your heart thundering. Sorry I scared you.” Just as her delicate fingertips had climbed up, they began to trail back down.

“What’re you doing, Josephine?” He barely recognized his voice. Gods, she made him feel reckless. And exhilarated.

Young.

“It’s like I’ve got you cuffed. You can’t escape my clutches.” Her hand dipped to the waist of his trews, then inside. She gasped to find his cock erect and aching for her attention.

“Why would I ever want to escape?” he asked, hissing in a breath when she thumbed the crown in a mind-numbing circle.

She moaned, her nipples hardening against her shirt. He needed to touch her too! Battling his fear, he released the chain and rewarded his palms with plump flesh.