the seam of her mouth with this tongue, stroked inside where she met him with her own. Lights flared behind his closed eyelids. Damn! She made him lose all sense of where they were.
With one last kiss he dunked them both beneath the water. She came up sputtering before turning and diving under the water. They spent the next hour or so swimming and playing. Vin couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, he’d just…played.
* * * *
Rafe watched from a safe distance. The elephant trunk was a nice touch, if Rafe did say so himself. He wanted to go and join them.
A flash of silver, like that of a rifle reflecting off the sun, caught his attention, and he zeroed in on the area it came from. He acted before he could think better of it, eliminating the space separating them. He reached out, gripped the man by the back of the neck, and squeezed.
He wanted to snap the douche’s neck, and then the smell of sulfur hit him. The unmistakable scent of Hades hit his nostrils. He knew this was the man who his Tamara had a run-in with. It was a miracle she made it out alive. “Why are you following Tamara?”
“What’s it to you?” His neck rotated around on his body.
Yeah, definitely not human. “She’s mine,” Rafe forced out between clenched teeth. He hated the way the minions of the devil himself had no sense of humanity.
Carl’s hands clenched into fists. When his little hat trick didn’t scare Rafe the way it probably did most men, his beady eyes bled to red. Rafe tossed him back against the rock, and only then did he remember Carl’s head was turned around wrong. “Fuck, man, that’s just wrong on so many fucking levels.”
“What the hell are you?” Carl’s voice had gone rough.
The demons that made their way up from the depths of Hell were made up of different factions. This one was obviously one of the lazier ones. Rafe still wasn’t sure what he wanted, only knew he couldn’t allow him to live.
At one time this man had been just that, a man. Even then he wasn’t a good person. Rafe saw the things he’d done that landed him in Hell in the first place. For those deeds alone, he deserved to die a slow, painful death. Staring into vacant eyes, Rafe followed the not-so-delicate trail back to what led him to the path that ended with him finding Tamara.
Rafe didn’t believe in coincidences.
She had a marker on her. Seemed every demon who wanted to get back into the good graces of Hades himself had a chance. All they had to do was hand over one Tamara Mejia, dead or alive. Carl decided he wanted to enjoy her before giving her over to the devil.
“Get the fuck outta my head.” Carl spat.
He pulled back. The depraved images of all the lost souls the bastard had consumed up and down the coast made bile rise in Rafe’s throat. “No problem.” Rafe stood straight and jerked Carl’s head from his pudgy body, which had grown fat from all the lives he’d consumed. Tossing the head to one side, he blew fire on each body part until nothing was left but ashes. He called down a brisk wind to disperse the particles and cleanse the area.
His soul may have been dark, but the Forsaken still answered his call to cleanse the world. In a blink, he had all the evidence of what used to be Carl washed from his clothes and body—however, the dark stain would forever be on his heart.
* * * *
Tamara saw a bright orange glow, like a bonfire in the middle of the afternoon. Then she saw Rafe walking down the rocky hill. Her eyes flashed to the erect way he carried himself. She’d had so much fun playing with Vin but had missed Rafe. They were so much alike, yet so very different.
After they had tired of swimming, or at least she had tired of swimming, they’d left the water and toweled off. The things he did with his very talented tongue in the middle of the sea should be illegal. She bet he could stay under water for hours without coming up for air.
She giggled. The sound was so foreign to her own
With one last kiss he dunked them both beneath the water. She came up sputtering before turning and diving under the water. They spent the next hour or so swimming and playing. Vin couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, he’d just…played.
* * * *
Rafe watched from a safe distance. The elephant trunk was a nice touch, if Rafe did say so himself. He wanted to go and join them.
A flash of silver, like that of a rifle reflecting off the sun, caught his attention, and he zeroed in on the area it came from. He acted before he could think better of it, eliminating the space separating them. He reached out, gripped the man by the back of the neck, and squeezed.
He wanted to snap the douche’s neck, and then the smell of sulfur hit him. The unmistakable scent of Hades hit his nostrils. He knew this was the man who his Tamara had a run-in with. It was a miracle she made it out alive. “Why are you following Tamara?”
“What’s it to you?” His neck rotated around on his body.
Yeah, definitely not human. “She’s mine,” Rafe forced out between clenched teeth. He hated the way the minions of the devil himself had no sense of humanity.
Carl’s hands clenched into fists. When his little hat trick didn’t scare Rafe the way it probably did most men, his beady eyes bled to red. Rafe tossed him back against the rock, and only then did he remember Carl’s head was turned around wrong. “Fuck, man, that’s just wrong on so many fucking levels.”
“What the hell are you?” Carl’s voice had gone rough.
The demons that made their way up from the depths of Hell were made up of different factions. This one was obviously one of the lazier ones. Rafe still wasn’t sure what he wanted, only knew he couldn’t allow him to live.
At one time this man had been just that, a man. Even then he wasn’t a good person. Rafe saw the things he’d done that landed him in Hell in the first place. For those deeds alone, he deserved to die a slow, painful death. Staring into vacant eyes, Rafe followed the not-so-delicate trail back to what led him to the path that ended with him finding Tamara.
Rafe didn’t believe in coincidences.
She had a marker on her. Seemed every demon who wanted to get back into the good graces of Hades himself had a chance. All they had to do was hand over one Tamara Mejia, dead or alive. Carl decided he wanted to enjoy her before giving her over to the devil.
“Get the fuck outta my head.” Carl spat.
He pulled back. The depraved images of all the lost souls the bastard had consumed up and down the coast made bile rise in Rafe’s throat. “No problem.” Rafe stood straight and jerked Carl’s head from his pudgy body, which had grown fat from all the lives he’d consumed. Tossing the head to one side, he blew fire on each body part until nothing was left but ashes. He called down a brisk wind to disperse the particles and cleanse the area.
His soul may have been dark, but the Forsaken still answered his call to cleanse the world. In a blink, he had all the evidence of what used to be Carl washed from his clothes and body—however, the dark stain would forever be on his heart.
* * * *
Tamara saw a bright orange glow, like a bonfire in the middle of the afternoon. Then she saw Rafe walking down the rocky hill. Her eyes flashed to the erect way he carried himself. She’d had so much fun playing with Vin but had missed Rafe. They were so much alike, yet so very different.
After they had tired of swimming, or at least she had tired of swimming, they’d left the water and toweled off. The things he did with his very talented tongue in the middle of the sea should be illegal. She bet he could stay under water for hours without coming up for air.
She giggled. The sound was so foreign to her own
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