Page 35 of Hell Gate

Matthias’ smile tightens at the corners of his mouth, his golden eyes shifting over my shoulder. “I’ll go get you one. We’ll split up, cover more junk food bases. Sound good?” I nod and he plants a quick kiss on my forehead. “Remember, anything you want.”

I laugh, my heart swelling. “Got it.”

A shadow moves into my peripheral vision when I go to the next aisle. I angle my head to look back at Valerian lurking behind me.

“Still a stalker,” I joke.

His lips twitch. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

The amused expression drops off his face as quickly as it appeared. I smirk. He must have realized I made him show a sign of humor before he shut it down.

With a growl, he pins me to a pillar halfway down the aisle. It effectively tucks us between the shelves, hiding us somewhat from anyone passing by unless they came down this aisle. His sharp, narrowed gaze cuts back and forth, searching for something. His guard is up.

“Wh—? Vale,” I breathe. “They found us?”

“No, different scent,” he clips out. “Definitely demon, though. There are too many people in here to fight them. Play along. We need to blend in.”

“People don’t really, uh, do this in convenience stores.” I grip the lapels of his trench coat so I don’t wrap my arms around his neck.

“They won’t know that.”

“What about the people here who do?” I hiss.

“Christ, Lily.” His grasp on my waist flexes.

I hold back a shocked cry as he leans in, gaze intent like he might kiss me. He diverts at the last second, burying his face in my neck. It could appear like we’re kissing to anyone that spots us.

He speaks against my neck in a gravelly voice that shoots heat straight to my core. “For once, just do as I say without arguing about every little thing.”

“You’re infuriating,” I shoot back hoarsely.

“Likewise, little flower.” He nips my neck, the prick of his fangs teasing my skin. A strangled noise tries to escape me. “If I could be rid of you, reject you somehow, I would.” I flinch, the sentiment of rejection cutting me deep. He soothes me with a rumble, petting my sides, pressing us closer together in contradiction to what he’s saying. “Then I could kill you, perhaps. Rip this pretty throat out with my teeth and enjoy the sweet taste of your blood on my fangs. Maybe that would end this obsessive need to keep you near, to keep you for myself.”

I forget why he pinned me to the pillar in the first place, too overcome by the needy ache pulsing between my legs. A faint groan sounds from him, his fingers sinking into my hair. I crave the feel of him crushed against me, but he keeps some distance between our bodies.

Warm, smooth hickory twines around me, the same as I picked up on in the motel room near New York. Is this his scent when he’s aroused? I know the threat is empty since they admitted they’re unable to kill me. Instead of fear, I’m captivated by his dark allure, wanting to learn if his touch would be as rough and intense as his callous words.

“Don’t move.” His fingers dig into me. “Sell it.”

Oh. Demons, right. My head swims. Focusing is nearly impossible when everything in me is screaming to wrap my legs around the tall, brooding bastard and beg him to fuck me in the middle of a rest stop. The fact that sounds so wrong doesn’t even register to my clouded brain.

Then I smell it—sulfur. Brimstone.

I strain my ears, squeezing the material of Valerian’s jacket. He moves his head like we’re locked in a passionate kiss. I mimic him with stilted, clumsy finesse. For good measure, I fake a moan. His grip turns bruising, a deep, sexy rumble vibrating against my neck.

My eyelashes flutter. Oh, shit. Okay, moaning was too much. We’re both dancing on the precarious edge of control as it is from our close proximity. Faking intimacy is only fanning the flames.

The unpleasant scent drifts closer. Shit, it’s not working! The demon’s on to our act.

“Hey! The machine is on the fritz back here. It’s spitting frozen drink everywhere, man.” Matthias’ voice sounds from the back corner. The demon changes course. “Is anyone around to fix this?”

“Move.” Valerian nudges me in the opposite direction, toward the exit.

Seconds after we exit, Alder pulls the car up. Valerian herds me into the back seat, keeping his grip on my nape. Matthias bursts out of the store, whipping off his blue-stained hoodie. He takes shotgun.

“Floor it. Blue raspberry isn’t going to distract him for long,” he says. “Too many humans around to kill him. I just made it look like he slipped and hit his head.”

“Was it another hellhound?” I ask.

---