Page 61 of Torn Between Two Worlds

He bent down in front of him, hands on his knees. “Next time, stay the fuck away from my female, and her world.”

Standing, he yanked the knife out and turned. His vision was spinning more than he had realized. His focus on his kill had been the driving need to continue, but he couldn't do it anymore. He saw the shimmering doorway to his Ciara open just as his eyes closed, and he faded into darkness one last time.

31

Her hands flitted nervouslyin her lap, playing with the ring as she watched him sleep. It had been three days since the fight. Three days, and he hadn't so much as twitched. “Stryder, please. Wake up.” Tears slipped and fell onto her hands, and she sniffled, trying to rein them back.

They'd found Stryder close to Jonathan's body. He'd been stabbed, shot, scratched and anything else possible with angel's blood. It was toxic to demons on lower levels of power and damn near fatal to the Horsemen, their seconds and Lucifer.

Dizzy from thinking about that night, the tears fell faster. She had sworn he was dead. The minute she couldn't tell, she had fought for control to open a doorway and had raced through the open doorway. Reaching him, she had felt for a pulse and found it weak, barely a heartbeat. She'd fallen over his body, crying and cursing. Her powers had ricocheted over the cave so badly, it had taken down any remaining Initiative soldiers. Not to mention, they had kept his brothers from being able to feed him, the only cure.

She'd run away, run home to her own world when she had learned she'd almost killed him. She'd wanted to get away from him. Let his brothers heal him, and then never leave his side again. Jameson had had other ideas. While Demarcus had fed Stryder, Fasheem had gone looking for any left alive from the fight, and Jameson had gone after her. All three had been successful in their mission.

Successful to the extent that, after a hysterical breakdown over a doorway because he wasn't interested in stepping into her apartment and getting his ass kicked for it later, Jameson had convinced her to come back. Fasheem had sent about two dozen men to hell to be questioned, and Demarcus had fed Stryder enough to ensure his safety. But he wouldn't wake up, and to her, that was a failure.

So she'd sat there thinking. She knew she wanted to be with him. Then not later. But she wasn't certain how she would feel about his world. Her parents had been dead for a few years from an accident, one she never thought of, so he didn't know she had no ties. There was a lot to know, but they had a lot of time. She'd finally finished Demarcus' book and had learned that the mate business meant a tied life force.

She'd wanted to come to his world. She couldn't bear asking him to leave his growing family. There might be danger there, but there was also that. Family, which she couldn't help but love as well as she got to know them. She only hoped he wouldn't mind sharing his world with her after how many times she'd told him she didn't want his demon or his world in hers. She knew she was being stupid, but still, anything to focus on him not being awake.

“Hey, chin up. We've all sat here, cursing the dumb sod because he got so close to death, we had to miss his ass. Promise, he'll be up and probably fry my ass for sitting so close to you.” Jameson offered her a smile and coffee before sitting on the couch next to her.

They'd dragged it in so she could sleep, but she'd climbed into bed with him each night when everyone else had retired. “If only. But how long will it take?” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she squeezed them shut. “I made him so mad, Jameson. So mad. What if I can't take it back?”

His eyes were solemn for his playful personality, but he grabbed her hand and tugged it toward Stryder's still form. “Hey, ya’ big lug. There's an absolutely beautiful female sitting her crying over you. Seems to be wearing one gaudy little trinket on her finger too. So how bout you stop with the selfish act and wake up?”

It did make her laugh and jostle the coffee, spilling the smallest amount onto Stryder's arm. “Jameson, you know that only works in the movies?”

“Or books,” he said with a wicked grin.

She laughed again, tucking some hair behind her ear.

“He's right you know. Or books,” his voice was gravely and punctuated by coughs.

The tears that sprang to her eyes were of happiness. “Stryder!”

She leaped up, throwing the coffee cup onto Jameson, who cursed rather loudly before excusing himself.

“Sorry.”

She turned to look down at Stryder, who was trying to push his way to sit up.

“Nope. Not a chance, demon. You stay lying down.”

“Give me a minute, sweetheart. I have something I need to do.”

She laughed, thinking he surely meant the bathroom, but he surprised her by flipping them, his weight pressing into her before his mouth captured hers.

It felt like forever since they'd touched, and she allowed herself to melt into the kiss, and forget everything until he coughed again. She pushed him off, and his eyes flashed. Scrambling out from under him, she stood next to the bed so he couldn't do it again and over exert himself.

“You ass. You will listen to me, so you don't become a vegetable on me!”

His grin lit up both his face and her heart. He was okay, and just like in the books, it hadn't taken so long after all.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. Glad you're up,” Fasheem's voice floated into the room from the doorway.

“Hey, Bro. Glad to be awake.” He snaked an arm out and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her onto the bed with a plop.

“You take nearly half my damn blood and all it took to heal you was a pretty girl warming your bed?” Demarcus growled playfully.

---