safe with me,” Agrat said to the cop.
The
cop looked down at her, his movement robotic, his eyes glazed. “You are safe
with him.”
Disbelief
flooded her body. “That’s insane. Your job is to help me. I have to get away
from this creep.”
Agrat
strode forward, disengaged her fingers from the cop's arms, put his arm around
her waist and pulled her back. She thumped down on the dark bruise where she’d
hit him with a hammer.
The
demon growled and Phoebe felt her heart plummet with fear. His grip tightened
on her.
“Open
the door, leave, and close it behind you. Protect Rachael outside. Take her
away from here,” Agrat said to the cop.
Phoebe
struggled, pushed against the demon’s rock-hard body. “Please. No. Don’t listen
to him. He's a psychopath. Don’t go.”
But
the cop backed out of her studio, saluted Agrat and left, closing the door on
his way out.
Leaving
her with the demon.
Chapter 5
Agrat held Phoebe to him to stop
her racing out of the studio and onto the crowded street. “Look at me, Phoebe.”
“Like
hell I will. Let go of me.” She bunched her fist, punched upwards and caught
him on the jaw.
Shock
made him release her, though her fist had no more power than a young soldier’s.
When had his princess learned to fight? First with the hammer, then with her
fist?
“Stop
this,” he said, gripping her by the forearms.
She
let out a scream loud enough to singe a banshee’s ears and he clamped his hand
over her mouth. Pushing her against the wall, he pressed his body against hers
to contain her. She writhed and struggled against him until eventually,
exhausted, she stilled and he held her close, fighting to control the surge of
lust that made his cock swell with need. He took his hand away from her mouth.
Instead
of submitting, she glared at him, her hands pushing hard on his chest. “You’re
crushing me with that breastplate.”
“Then
stop fighting.”
“Fuck
you!”
“Any
time,” he growled. How had the woman he’d fallen in love with become so fierce?
Sure, she’d been determined in their past life together. It was rare for a
concubine to have the courage to escape the king’s harem, but this woman, who
looked so beautiful with her blond hair and large sky-blue eyes, had courage.
She questioned everything he said with courage and determination that
infuriated him, and yet, he respected her too.
Her
look was subtly different as well. Her long blond hair had been cut with
scissors so that it draped around her face, instead of hanging straight to her
bottom. Her eyes held a steely determination as if she were used to making her
own decisions and her body, though slim like he remembered, no longer yielded
to him. Instead, when she fought him, her torso and arms were made of rock-hard
lean muscle. The once-soft hands that had caressed him were rough with calluses
from her work; even her fingernails were short and bruised in places from her
tools.
Yet,
as he eased back allowing her to take in a deep breath, the memories came
flooding back: the intensity of the love he had for her and the sensual feel of
her warm body against his that made his cock swell with wanting her.
The sheer, black pain of losing her jolted through his mind.
He
wouldn’t let it happen.
Not
again.
Summoning
his mind-melding powers he focused on calming her, putting her under his
command, but try as he might, he didn’t seem to be having the effect he
expected.
Instead,
she stiffened and glared up at him. “Damn you,” she growled, “I felt you
probing my mind. Stay out of my head. I saw what you did to that cop. You
turned him into a zombie.”
Agrat’s
image of what constituted a zombie was taken from the cop’s mind, and it confused
him. The cop had all his body parts, didn’t walk with a shuffle or have his
brains hanging out of his head. Still, there wasn’t time to clarify. Instead,
he fisted Phoebe’s layered blond hair so that he could look her in the eyes
without her
The
cop looked down at her, his movement robotic, his eyes glazed. “You are safe
with him.”
Disbelief
flooded her body. “That’s insane. Your job is to help me. I have to get away
from this creep.”
Agrat
strode forward, disengaged her fingers from the cop's arms, put his arm around
her waist and pulled her back. She thumped down on the dark bruise where she’d
hit him with a hammer.
The
demon growled and Phoebe felt her heart plummet with fear. His grip tightened
on her.
“Open
the door, leave, and close it behind you. Protect Rachael outside. Take her
away from here,” Agrat said to the cop.
Phoebe
struggled, pushed against the demon’s rock-hard body. “Please. No. Don’t listen
to him. He's a psychopath. Don’t go.”
But
the cop backed out of her studio, saluted Agrat and left, closing the door on
his way out.
Leaving
her with the demon.
Chapter 5
Agrat held Phoebe to him to stop
her racing out of the studio and onto the crowded street. “Look at me, Phoebe.”
“Like
hell I will. Let go of me.” She bunched her fist, punched upwards and caught
him on the jaw.
Shock
made him release her, though her fist had no more power than a young soldier’s.
When had his princess learned to fight? First with the hammer, then with her
fist?
“Stop
this,” he said, gripping her by the forearms.
She
let out a scream loud enough to singe a banshee’s ears and he clamped his hand
over her mouth. Pushing her against the wall, he pressed his body against hers
to contain her. She writhed and struggled against him until eventually,
exhausted, she stilled and he held her close, fighting to control the surge of
lust that made his cock swell with need. He took his hand away from her mouth.
Instead
of submitting, she glared at him, her hands pushing hard on his chest. “You’re
crushing me with that breastplate.”
“Then
stop fighting.”
“Fuck
you!”
“Any
time,” he growled. How had the woman he’d fallen in love with become so fierce?
Sure, she’d been determined in their past life together. It was rare for a
concubine to have the courage to escape the king’s harem, but this woman, who
looked so beautiful with her blond hair and large sky-blue eyes, had courage.
She questioned everything he said with courage and determination that
infuriated him, and yet, he respected her too.
Her
look was subtly different as well. Her long blond hair had been cut with
scissors so that it draped around her face, instead of hanging straight to her
bottom. Her eyes held a steely determination as if she were used to making her
own decisions and her body, though slim like he remembered, no longer yielded
to him. Instead, when she fought him, her torso and arms were made of rock-hard
lean muscle. The once-soft hands that had caressed him were rough with calluses
from her work; even her fingernails were short and bruised in places from her
tools.
Yet,
as he eased back allowing her to take in a deep breath, the memories came
flooding back: the intensity of the love he had for her and the sensual feel of
her warm body against his that made his cock swell with wanting her.
The sheer, black pain of losing her jolted through his mind.
He
wouldn’t let it happen.
Not
again.
Summoning
his mind-melding powers he focused on calming her, putting her under his
command, but try as he might, he didn’t seem to be having the effect he
expected.
Instead,
she stiffened and glared up at him. “Damn you,” she growled, “I felt you
probing my mind. Stay out of my head. I saw what you did to that cop. You
turned him into a zombie.”
Agrat’s
image of what constituted a zombie was taken from the cop’s mind, and it confused
him. The cop had all his body parts, didn’t walk with a shuffle or have his
brains hanging out of his head. Still, there wasn’t time to clarify. Instead,
he fisted Phoebe’s layered blond hair so that he could look her in the eyes
without her
Similar Books
