He paused, his strokes against her neck gentle compared to the murderous fury flashing in his eyes. “I’ll rip him apart. Slowly.”
White canines flashed in his dark smile … the teeth elongating as if he were shape-shifting. Jamie tilted her chin up, refusing to show fear.
“And me? What would you do with me?”
Damian’s expression shifted. The intensity of his look was strong enough to melt steel.
“What I’d do with you? I’d rip off your clothing and I’d put my mouth all over your body and make you come until you screamed for mercy. There’d never be another male for you, ever, because every time you’d try to get close to another I’d be there, my scent in your nostrils, my taste in your mouth and the feel of my cock inside you.”
He released her neck and gave her nose a light, almost affectionate tap. “Understand?"
Jamie moistened her kiss-swollen mouth. A deep, primitive urge rose at the way he stared at her lips. His muscles locked as his pupils got larger, nearly overriding the jade-green irises. Damian might have some odd sexual hold over her, but damn, she had the same over him. She had the odd feeling if she had the courage, she could wield a much greater power. But her lack of experience and inner terror of Damian’s power held her back.
“I get it. You stripped my powers to punish me. Fine. Let’s deal. I’ll make up for it if you get rid of this damn spell. If you don’t, I’ll find another way. Like a hidden book of magick, Draicon.”
Damian lightly trailed long fingertips over her cheek. “My name is Damian, not Draicon.” His voice suddenly softened. Was there a note of regret there? She couldn’t tell. “There’s no need to make up for anything, Jamie. The binding spell is there for your own protection. Trust me, it’s best.”
“I know what’s best for me. I don’t need you or anyone else.”
Torment flashed in his eyes, then he closed them. Bemused, she stared at the long sweep of dark lashes against his tanned cheeks. Damian opened his eyes, the emotion gone. “Walk with me. We need to talk. It’s urgent.”
She didn’t want to, but the warm palm he cupped on her elbow suggested otherwise. Damian began steering her toward the river.
“Let me go. I don’t trust you.”
He stopped, giving her a solemn look. “I haven’t given you good reason to trust me, either. But we must talk. We’ll go to Café du Monde. Very public, so if you feel threatened, there’s people around and you can scream for help. Okay?"
The devil offered her an irresistibly sweet deal. Hunger pulled with the image of a crisp beignet coated with layers of glistening powdered sugar.
People crowded the green-and-white-striped canopied café. Damian guided her to a quiet table outside. He pulled a chair out for her.
Torn between wanting to flee and hunger, Jamie sat. Damian took the seat beside her, so close his leg touched hers. She shuffled over; he followed. He seemed determined to stay close. Damian frowned as he examined her dejected expression. Reaching over, he cupped her chin, lifted it to his scrutinizing gaze.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Relax. It will get better. The world hasn’t collapsed.”
My world has, she wanted to say, feeling her throat constrict. Instead she offered a brave shrug that hid her emotions.
Damian gave her a long, thoughtful look. He didn’t question her further, but released his grip and gave their order to a tired-looking waitress. Barely had she left when Jamie ripped a paper napkin out of the holder and spread it over on the tabletop. She shook the glass sugar container over the napkin, then unscrewed it, dumping out the contents onto the napkin.
His green eyes widened as she dug into the snowy mountain with her spoon and gulped down mouthfuls. “Easy,” he murmured.
Ignoring him, she continued eating. The rush kicked in, giving her a flood of energy. The spoon clattered to the table. The scarred tabletop resembled a white powder explosion. Damian looked deeply troubled.
“Wow, I knew sugar was supposed to give you a rush. I’ve been so tired lately.” She wiped her fingers with a fresh napkin.
His dark, heavy brows drew together. “Jamie, why did you ask the Morphs to grant you the power of flight when there were other powers you could have received?"
“I didn’t. Kane infected me with dark magick and told me it would shift to whatever natural form I desired.”
Damian’s gaze riveted to a fly landing near the sugar on the table. With amazing speed, his palm smacked down, killed the insect. She gave him a bemused look.
“Just a fly,” he mused, flicking it away. “But you can’t be certain. Not here.”
The waitress brought over plates of beignets and steaming cups of coffee. Behind horn-rimmed glasses, her eyes widened at the empty sugar container. “Are you guys nuts? I just filled that,” the woman snapped.
His eyes narrowed. “Then get another.”
Jamie sank back, watching as he sipped his black coffee. “You wanted to talk, so talk. Then I’m gone.”
Jade-green eyes met hers. “How long have you been eating like this, Jamie?"
“Since I dropped Weight Watchers. Any more questions? Are we done?"
“Jamie, how long have you eaten sugar like this?”
Obstinate Draicon. Jamie frowned, bemused at her bizarre behavior. “Today … I guess.”
“You’re certain this is the first craving you’ve had?” His voice sounded thick.
Jamie nodded and glanced at her coffee. She stared into the blackness. Black, like her soul had been. Once she would have done anything to hurt Damian. Now the desire for revenge fled, leaving only emptiness. Something inside remained as dark as the beings she’d lived among.
“Why are you here, Draicon?” she whispered. “To make me pay for what I did to you?"
His expression was blank, but he stroked her hand with his fingers as if he couldn’t bear not to touch her. “I told you, Jamie, my name is Damian. I’m here to keep you safe.”
Doubtful. He wanted something more. She could feel it.
“But, since you’ve broached the topic, why did you try to kill me? Most women don’t kill their lovers when they walk out.”
His voice was absolutely gentle, yet his laser green gaze demanded answers. Jamie plucked out a napkin and began twisting it into the shape of a small bird.
“I’m not most women.”
“There’s something more, isn’t there? What?”
Trust no one. Jamie dodged the truth.
“You lied to me, Draicon. At least with the Morphs, I knew what they were. Dark, powerful …"
“Evil.”
“But
