Omens (The Dark in You #6) - Suzanne Wright Page 0,103
beings that are without sin. I wouldn’t even consider that shit.”
He closed his eyes and cursed. “It makes me an evil bastard that my mind didn’t immediately recoil at that idea. I just—”
“You don’t want me to die, I know. There’s a lot of things I’d be willing to try in the hope of combating the death essence, but never the sacrifice of a newborn baby. You’d never be able to go through with it either.”
He bit out another curse. “Blood magick can often backfire anyway.”
Very true. “Vivian also managed to speak with the angel who frequents the hospital where she works. He claimed that only an archangel could heal me. Grams is having no luck getting in touch with one.”
“Levi’s had no success with that either.” Keenan squeezed her hand. “There are other preternatural creatures out there with various gifts—dragons, elementals, fey. The list goes on and on. I’m not buying that the only being in existence that can fight death essence is an archangel.”
“Same here.” She twisted her mouth. “Do you think it’s possible that Enoch could somehow undo what he did to me? That he could call the death essence out of my system or something?”
Keenan’s brow hiked up slightly. He hadn’t considered that. “Maybe. We’ll ask him that very question when we get ahold of him. It won’t be long until we do.”
“So I shouldn’t kill him with the blade if I come across him?”
“If it seems like you have no choice but to kill him to survive a confrontation with him, then don’t hesitate. There will be another way to save you. We just have to find it.”
“And we will.”
Keenan curved his hand around the side of her neck. She was fucking amazing. Other people might have wallowed, given up hope of being healed, and drowned in self-pity. Not Khloé. She remained sturdy and strong, refusing to give in to whatever worries she might have. His demon loved that spine of steel she had.
Needing to be closer to her, Keenan gripped her by the waist, lifted her, and then sat her on his lap so that she straddled him. “That’s better.” Locking his arms tight around her, he took her mouth, needing and relishing the taste of her, loving how she melted into him.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “Missed you today.”
“Missed you right back. Which kind of annoyed me. It was very distracting.”
“I know what you mean. But you’ve been distracting me for years, so I’m used to it.”
She toyed with the collar of his tee. “Devon said I wear your scent now.”
A smile quirked his mouth. “Tanner said I wear yours.” If two demons were intimate on more than one level, their skin often became embedded with each other’s scent. “Does it bother you?”
“No. You?”
“Not at all. I like it.” He took her mouth again, feasting and consuming her. Hunger crawled through him, thick and hot and carnal. He embraced it, desperate to forget for just a short time that she was getting closer to death every single day; desperate to drown out the clawing fear that rode him day and night.
He snaked his hand beneath her tank top and slid it up her back, wanting—no, needing—the skin-to-skin contact. More, he needed to be inside her; needed to lose himself in her; needed the glorious oblivion that only Khloé had ever been able to give him.
She tore her mouth free and raked her fingers through his hair. “I’m curious. Do you have anything against the idea of bending me over the kitchen island while you shove your delightfully large schlong in me?”
He felt one side of his mouth tip up. “My what?”
*
As a deep male voice made an announcement over the racing stadium’s intercom, Khloé smiled. “Teague’s horse is up next,” she said without turning away from the wall of glass that overlooked the dirt track.
Beams of bright light slashed through the air and illuminated both the track and artificial grass, courtesy of the rows of high-powered floodlights. Spectators were everywhere—the tiered grandstand, the indoor cafeteria, the outdoor picnic area, and some even stood near the white fence that bordered the track.
Khloé took another bite of her hotdog, despite the fact that her stomach kept doing annoying little flips. She loved watching Teague’s stallion race. It was, without a doubt, the fastest of its kind, which was why it was a favorite among the gambling addicts. She wasn’t really nervous on its behalf—she never doubted that it would