The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel Book 1)(12)

The pain had to be terrible, yet she managed to remain upright. Not only did she not give up, two wicked looking blades in her hands gleamed in the weak moonlight.

He shifted slightly, then narrowed his eyes when she countered his move. The inky blackness didn't restrict his vision, but it should have left a human virtually blind.

Another mystery to add to the growing stack that made her all the more of a delicious riddle to solve.

Sensing his distraction, she attacked. He lurched backwards, stumbled over a footstool and barely managed to dodge out of the way as her blades sliced through the air. The restricted way she moved her left arm told him her ribs hurt more than she wanted to let him know. A surprising dart of remorse tightened his lips.

Liquid dripped from his brow. When he reached up, a bead of blood coated his fingers. He smeared the evidence with his thumb, stunned since neither demons nor angels bleed.

Another damn test. It had to be. One he would not fail. He had a feeling all the changes this time around were her fault.

Ruman focused on his opponent, determined to disarm her without further injury to either of them. The questions were a distraction he didn't need if he wanted them both to survive.

He examined her in the moonlight, searching for weakness, but quickly became lost in the study of her. Layers of hair escaped from her braid, softening her face. Her chest moved with each short gasp, but it was her eyes that drew him. Deep and green as the outdoors, they were alive with emotions he could almost taste. And he wanted a taste to fill the centuries of nothingness.

A leg shot out, almost a blur, her boot heel landing inches from his thigh. Distracted by his unruly thoughts, he scarcely had time to block and grab her ankle. She jerked back, but he held tight. Now that he knew his attacker, he refused to ruin his chance at redemption.

He couldn't start over again.

He couldn't take the years of solitude.

"Cease." His voice had once commanded thousands of souls. The compulsion should have been sufficient to control any human.

Instead of obeying, her eyes narrowed.

How could he not even control a woman?

Instead of defeat or even rational reaction, she jumped and swung her other leg around, connecting with his shoulder hard enough to knock him from his crouch.

Refusing to release his hold on her, they landed together in a jumble of arms and legs. His temple cracked against the base of the fireplace, sending shock waves through his system. Black dots danced before his eyes. Pain made his stomach clench against the urge to heave.

He couldn't fail. Not now, not here, and not in front of her. Blinking to clear his gaze, he saw her blade descend in a quick arc toward his neck. Ruman arched his back, unbalancing her from her seated position straddling his hips.

She tumbled and landed on her ass with a grunt. Though winded and slow, she was on her feet in a matter of seconds, crouched, ready for battle with those blasted knives clutched in both fists.

Taking advantage of her slight hesitation, Ruman lashed out. A hard chop of his hand to her forearm sent one knife clattering across the room. The other sliced at him. The area she hit stung. All that saved him from a nasty wound was his leather jacket.

The few emotions his kind dealt with were never so wildly uncontrolled. The longer he stayed in close proximity to this woman, the faster his protective barriers fell. If he didn't nip this in the bud, he'd lose this chance for redemption.

A chill like cold fingers curled itself around his back and crept across his chest. His stomach bottomed out at the unpleasant sensation at the thought of going back into that statue.

Like hell.

In a move too fast for a human to track, he launched himself at her. Even so, the blasted woman managed to leap partially out of range. His arms ended looped around her hips.

As they sailed through the air, he twisted to land on top this time.                       
       
           



       

Even then it was a stretch.

Her quick, agile body almost slipped out of his grip. It was only by the grace of angels that he'd managed to hold her.

He blocked the knife she twisted his way. His fingers encircled her wrists, her bones so delicate his fingers overlapped. The wickedly sharp blade stopped inches from his heart.

Increasing the pressure, he waited for the metal to drop. The chit winced, but she refused to release the weapon. Her hand should be numb. People were so fragile, any more pressure and he'd risked permanently damaging her.

Unbelievably, her legs shifted as she tried to twist from beneath him. Flat on her back, pinned to the floor, she still fought.

Admiration and something else made its way inside him. Careful so as not to hurt her or allow her to escape, Ruman relaxed in increments, shifting his weight until his body covered every inch of hers. By brute strength, he forced her arms to the floor, pinning them above her head.

They lay nose to nose. Muscles quivered beneath his, tensed, waiting for an opening. For each subtle gesture, he countered. Breathing raggedly, his body sore from the punishment this human had inflicted on him, Ruman stared as if seeing her for the first time.

A human was a human. They were born. Most lived short, insignificant lives and then died. As an angel, he had listened to their sins, recorded them since the beginning of time. And yet, only now did he wonder about their lives.

This one was resilient.

Unrelenting and fearless.

Stupidly brave and reckless in the face of danger.

And beautiful.

The thought struck him from nowhere but once there, it wouldn't go away. Face to face, less than an inch separating them, he studied her eyes. A deep green, so dark and mysterious he couldn't turn away.

So many secrets.

The way she studied him in return gave him pause. A strange heat tightened his gut, spreading through his system in a way that made him want to get away from her and gather her close at the same time.

She blinked, and the spell broke enough to allow breath back into his body again. Thoughts took a bit longer.

Hair haloed her head. The color, a rich brown chopped in careless layers, revealed different shades of red and gold. He estimated the length came to the middle of her back. Unconsciously, he shifted his hold and raised a hand to touch a strand that had landed across her throat, determined to find out if her hair would be as warm and inviting as it looked.

"My death will gain you nothing and will not go unpunished." The muscles of her neck strained to complete the sentence. It took him a moment to comprehend and shake himself out of his stupor.

"I am not the enemy, woman. If you'd given me a moment to explain, this could've been avoided."

"Ah, yes. I can't imagine why I didn't think of asking a demon half breed who broke into my house what he was doing." She spat the slur, her accusation smarting despite the truth of her words.

"I followed you-"

"From the temple."

Ruman gave her a pointed look and waited for her silence. He'd be damned if he had to fight her every step of the way. She would play by his rules now.

Her teeth clenched, and she lifted her chin defiantly in a way that made him want to run his fingers down her jaw. The smooth skin had a glow that drew him, distracted him. He followed the line of her jaw to her throat and saw her swallow.

"Then explain already. You're a little heavy for a blanket." Her huff of breath snapped his gaze to hers, and he shook his head to rid himself from his delusional desire to touch her.

"You summoned me at the temple. I am a guardian demon."

The twist of her lips was anything but humorous. "You failed miserably. The temple was destroyed."

Annoyed at her dismissive words and caustic attitude, Ruman shook his head. "Not to guard the temple. You."

"Me, what?"

With her eyes narrowed, her gaze reminded him of a predator on the hunt. "You're the one to be guarded."

A strangled sound escaped her, like her laugh caught in her throat. He almost regretted that he couldn't hear it. Until she spoke again. "You must be joking."

Ruman reared back, almost losing his hold on her wiggling form. With a flex of his body, he barely managed to subdue her when she moved, lightning fast, to escape. The brief struggle left him edgy.

Heat moved under his skin wherever they touched and spread, warming his face. Her disdain fired his temper. No one laughed at him. He was a warrior who had lived thousands of years. Even his fall from Heaven had not made him react so strongly. That punishment he deserved. This was something else.

He stared at her, exhilarated at the fight. The perverse side of him enjoyed seeing her beneath him and under his control. Raising a brow, he bared his teeth in a smile that had been known to send his opponents running.                       
       
           



       

He leaned closer, stopping a hairsbreadth away from touching his lips to hers. "And yet, here you are. Beneath me." It was only then he became aware she was more than bones and muscles.

The light scent, a smell unique only to her, wrapped around him. Head tilted, he followed the source, unaware of moving closer until she made an uncomfortable sound at the back of her throat. Warmth from her neck reached him, pulling him closer, and he located the source. Cinnamon and spice. Not a perfume but a delicious fragrance she exuded that called to him.