Page 127 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

“Oh fuck off,” she blurts out, too loud, and he laughs, something genuine and real in the sound, before his hands come up and grip her wrists, holding her in place.

It’s another spark of danger, this one delicious.

Cause she knows him now. Knows what he’s capable of, knows the depth of his devotion in her. Knows what it means fora Half Demon to hold her down like this, how much power is in his hands.

He thrusts again, carrying all thoughts away from her, and she arches her back.

“Because all you have to do,” he says, still low and close, “is merely ask and I will do whatever you want.”

And she knows that now, too.

35

After, she lets herself rest her head against his chest, hearing the strong beating of his heart, as the afternoon sun fills the barren apartment with warmth.

There comes a point, where she can practically feel Maison’s mind kick in, and while he doesn’t really tense, he sighs, his arms restless around her.

“What?” she murmurs, not willing to let herself get uncomfy.

“Someone just broke the confusion spell on the cabin,” he says, and she blinks up to him. “I put an alarm on it, so I could tell.”

“So they know we’re not there?” Delina asks, stretching out against him. She should be more scared, she knows that, but right now she…can’t.

“Or they will, soon. We should probably get up,” he says, his hand tracing shapes on her bare back. “Figure out the next move, the next stop in this.”

He’s right, but she just snuggles harder against him.

“I don’t know how many of the properties they know about, just Gurlien does, but we should…not stay in place.”

She draws away, sitting upright, and a frown tugs on his lips at the lack of contact. “They’re not awake yet,” she says, finger combing through her hair with a nod to the door. “We’ll need to get food.”

He sits up as well, still bare chested, completely derailing Delina’s train of thought for a few moments, before he obviously steels himself up.

Delina raises an eyebrow at him.

“When we have a break, when we get a chance, I want you to practice tying me with the death again,” he says, and he’s so handsome in the late afternoon sun through the slatted blinds. “If they catch up with us on the road, I want us to be prepared.”

“That’ll be your choice,” Delina says, and the ghost of a smile traces over his lips, barely there. “I meant what I said about your wants.”

“And I,” he says, letting his hands fall to Delina’s hips, the skin there still sensitive, “want to have the best chance at keeping you safe.”

“Then we’ll find a way to practice.” She rolls out of the bed, and he gazes up at her with hunger in his eyes, as she rummages through her bag for a top and some jeans. “Think we can safely sneak out for breakfast?”

“Without waking them? Unlikely,” Maison replies, pulling his shirt on, before his face twists, suddenly, and he jerks the closet door open.

Inside, glowing softly, is a safe.

Delina peers at it, halfway through wiggling into her jeans. “Is that gonna be dangerous?”

Maison sighs, rubbing his face and sitting back down on the bed. “It’s another biotrap. I’m gonna assume it’s for you again.”

“What?” Delina asks. It’s a normal looking jewelry safe, as much as safes could be normal, the strange glownotwithstanding. “But I already went through the one, why would there—”

“I have to assume she left more than one, I guess,” Maison says, then sighs again. “She was insane.”

“Right,” Delina says, then takes a cautious step towards the safe before Maison stops her.

“Don’t touch it until I can get Chloe and Gurlien’s opinion,” he mutters, all trace of the softness gone. “I don’t want to be wrong and set off traps your mom left behind.”

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