Page 77 of Touched By Darkness

My eyes collide with hers and I push down the thick, clogging emotion in my chest. I force a smirk on my lips. “You’re probably the most vicious killer I’ve ever met. I followed the trail of body parts like they were breadcrumbs.”

The tips of her ears heat, and she attempts to look away, but I tighten my grip on her chin.

“Don’t hide.”

“Daemon?”

A novel, foreign urge strikes me then, and I follow its call as I lean down to taste her lips. It’s a hesitant kiss, uncertain on my part because I’ve never kissed someone and felt my heart thud against my ribcage in response. It’s fucking terrifying, but at the same time, I’m starving for the soft moans that slip from her lips onto mine.

My fingers tangle in her damp hair, and when I deepen the kiss and reach down to remove the towel, she melts into me.

The urge to guide her back onto the bed and cover her body with mine drives me forward. Her hands are everywhere, in my hair, beneath my shirt, clawing my back, and exploring the muscles in my arms.

We only break apart to gasp for air, and even that is sheer torture. Before she can fill her oxygen-starved lungs, I’m back to stealing her breaths for myself.

We’re a clash of teeth, tangling tongues, and roaming hands.

I’ve never devoured someone so completely before. I have always frowned upon kissing—a chore—yet now I feel like I’ll die if I can’t taste her, touch her, inhale her breaths and whimpers. And my name when she whispers it with such adoration.

I mean, what the fuck is wrong with me? I haven’t attempted to fuck her yet. For some reason, I’m content ravaging her tempting siren mouth. And to lose myself in her soft hair, even softer lips, and exploring hands on my back.

But like all miracles, they’re fleeting wonders that don’t last.

All good things come to an end sooner or later.

And this moment shatters like fragile glass when her eyes flutter open and widen with fear. She breaks away from my mouth and lets out a blood-curdling scream.

I scramble back on the bed, but pain explodes between my shoulder blades before I can look behind me. The last thing I see is a robed shadow that darts through the door.

ChapterSeventeen

AURELIA

“Oh, my God, Daemon,” I cry out when he collapses forward on top of me, blood gushing from a stab wound on his back. “What do I do?” My tone is panicked, desperate.

Daemon grunts with pain as his broad, powerful shoulders shift. His skin has broken out in a cold sweat, and his dark eyes lock with mine.

“What do I do?” I blurt again, even more frantic now. Daemon lies on his front, and the blood that pours from the wound soaks the sheets. I need to stem the bleeding somehow while I get myself together. I’m freaking out, and that’s never helpful.

I wriggle out from underneath Daemon and snatch up the towel from the floor. I ball it up and use it to press down on the wound, but all it does is stain the towel red. The blood is everywhere—on my hands, beneath my nails, and streaked on my forehead after I swiped away strands of my hair.

“Please,” I beg, “Please...”

I spot Daemon’s cell peeking out through the pocket of his jeans, so I dig it out while keeping pressure on the wound. Blood coats the screen as I bring up the first number in his contact list.

Alaric answers on the third ring, “It’s about time, fucker. We were about to send out a search and rescue team—”

“Alaric.” I hold the phone in a fierce grip and try to steady my breath. “I need help. Daemon has been stabbed.”

I’m met with silence on the other end before he blurts, “Fuck... Where are you?”

I wince. “Kinsale.”

“Kinsale?”

“It’s a small town in Ireland.”

Daemon grunts and attempts to roll over, but I force him back down on his front.

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