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I drew the t-shirt to my hips to reveal more of myself to him. “I’m done begging. Give me what I want.”
His gaze locked between my legs, and the husky moan that slithered out of his mouth sent a hot bolt of energy right to my center. “There will be more begging later.” He dragged his hand up my thigh, his thumb brushing my entrance.
ChapterThirty-Nine
I squirmedas Fane teased me with his thumb, a grin spreading his wet, swollen lips. If he didn’t stop the torment, I’d shove him off and bolt out of this room.
As if the sexy prick snatched that thought right out of my head, his low, husky laugh echoed. “You’re not going anywhere, Teague. Not until I do all those dirty things you’ve been fantasizing about.”
My brows slammed together even as my veins hummed at his words. “What dirty things, Maverick?”
He leaned into me, his mouth brushing mine. “Just a little—”
His words cut off as a strange, electric scent spilled into the room, and then a small piece of paper fluttered out of nowhere.
Fane snatched it out of the air, and as he read the message scrawled across the note sent through magic, his eyes hardened, and the fires within winked out. A wall slammed between us, closing him off again.
“What is that?” Before I could grab it, the paper burst into flames and disintegrated into ash, fluttering away.
Fane shook his head and stepped away. “Just a reminder.” He dragged his hand through his mussed locks, his gaze avoiding mine. “I need to check the house, and make sure it’s safe.”
My pulse spiked. “Did Karn’s demons find us?”
“Everything’s fine. I just want to make sure.” Fane grabbed my hips and lowered me to the ground, yanking his hands away as if I burned him. “Get some sleep.”
My jaw almost hit the ground. Was this asshole messing with me again? Did he purposely turn me on until I wanted to combust only to walk away?
As if he heard my thoughts, his head snapped around, and he finally met my eyes. “I’m not screwing with you, Tate. I just forgot how much danger we’re in, and I can’t be distracted right now.” His stare scorched as it dipped down my body. “And you’re a big fucking distraction.”
The demon shifter pivoted and stormed out of the room, leaving me hot and wanting.
My lips thinned, and the urge to throw something at him consumed me. I wanted to stomp after him and yell, but part of me knew he was right. I lost all sense as soon as he kissed me. Karn’s underlings would have no problem sneaking up on us while we were messing around.
Still, something was off with Fane. Something else in that note spooked him.
* * *
The electric sensationof magic crackled over my body as Fane and I stepped into the Underworld gateway that led to Savannah. Within the tunnel, flashes of purple and magenta zoomed over my vision, and the wind twisted my long hair around.
When the entrance to the other side appeared, Fane tugged me, and we entered Bonaventure Cemetery through an enormous, patinaed marble archway with Greek columns framing the sides. He dropped my hand like I’d electrocuted him and ignored my scowl as he scanned the shadows between twisting oaks, macabre statues, and headstones.
I brushed my hair out of my face and tried to tame the tangles. Deep hues of navy and purple stretched over the sky, bringing the faintest pinpricks of lights as the stars woke from their slumber. The tourists were gone now, but this part of the historic cemetery remained hidden beyond a magic veil anyway.
Icy tingles slinked over my scalp as the oak tree next to the archway creaked in the wind, calling attention to the odd, face-like knots in its trunk. Some claimed that ancient nightworlders who tried to harness a potent magic became trapped when it backfired. And now they were forever stuck in that tree to power the gateway to the Underworld.
Or maybe that was just a rumor. No one really knew how this access point between realms formed.
“We’re clear. Come on.” Fane marched away from the door as it reformed, and the portal deactivated.
I swallowed back a groan against the aches and pains that throbbed through me and followed him past the Grim Reaper statue standing guard at the curtain of magic concealing this area.
That statue reallydidexist in Bonaventure Cemetery, but humans usually couldn’t see it. Decades ago, during Halloween when the veil between worlds wore thin, some guy was lucky enough to capture a picture of the Grim Reaper statue. Of course, when visitors came for the spooky sculpture, they realized it didn’t exist—at least not for them.
Twisting oak branches reached over our heads like clawed hands, and a low limb tried to snag the t-shirt I’d borrowed from Fane. I found a few pairs of leggings and sports bras in the other guest room, so I didn’t have to don my torn, bloodied clothes.
“Why does Logan have women's clothing?” I asked, stepping over a root.
Fane gave a noncommittal shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”
