Stone Cold Touch

Ice trickled into my veins. “Do you know how upset I was? I felt lost without—”

“You were not lost without me,” he cut in, his gaze suddenly fixed on me once more. “You had Zayne.”

“Yes, but that’s not—”

“You had him,” he repeated, drawing in a deep breath. “Why do you think I took his place in that trap? So you could have him.”

Maybe I was slower than normal, but I wasn’t following where this was heading. “I know you did that for me and I can never express how truly grateful I am for it, but I didn’t want to lose you. I never wanted to.” The words kept spilling out in the worst case of verbal diarrhea known to humankind, angels or demons. “I don’t know what we had, but we had something—something that meant a lot to me.”

He stared at me a moment and an array of emotions played over his striking face before he shook his head. “You’ve been through a lot recently. I get that you’re upset, but like I said, you don’t need me.”

Frustration burned like acid in my blood. “Roth, I—”

“Don’t say it.” He held up a hand. “Don’t say it.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Hell, I didn’t know what was going to come out of my mouth.

“I don’t want to know.” Roth thrust his fingers through his hair in a quick, jerky manner. “This is why we needed to talk. I’m back. I’m going to be around because of the Lilin, but that’s the only reason I’m here. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

A part of my brain totally got what he was saying, but my heart was another story. His words didn’t make sense to the stupid muscle. Things didn’t add up. “No. I don’t.”

His lashes lowered as he muttered a curse. “Look, when I was topside before, with you? It was...” He gave a little shake of his head and then seemed to force out the rest. “It was fun, shortie.”

“Fun?” I repeated dumbly.

He nodded stiffly. “And that was all. It was just fun while it was happening.”

I jerked back as if I’d been slapped in the face. “It wasn’t just fun to me.”

“Of course it wasn’t.” Roth turned away, appearing to inspect a tree trunk as though it held the answers to life. “You had no experience in any of that. You’d never even kissed anyone before. It was only natural for you to catch feelings.”

A lick of pain lit up my chest. “But not natural for you?”

“No. Not at all. For several reasons. Many of them boring, but logical. I’m the Crown Prince of Hell, not like your Stony.”

“You’re not just the next Crown Prince! You’re more than that. So let’s not start that crap again.” Roth had never seen himself as anything but another prince out of the hundreds of princes that had come before him. He was even a little insecure about it, and I wanted to be more careful with those feelings, but I was losing control, anger and hurt giving way to a level of needy desperation that was embarrassing. I held out the ring. “This proves it was more than just fun to you. You fixed the necklace and you left it there for me to find.”

“And that proves something?” he queried softly.

“Yes!” The cool metal bit into my palm. “Why would you do that if you didn’t care?”

His shoulders stiffened. “I didn’t say I didn’t care, shortie.”

“Then what the Hell are you saying?”

“I’m saying that what we did isn’t going to happen again. That’s what I’m saying.”

I sucked in a breath, but it got stuck. “But the necklace—”

He twisted around so quickly I stumbled back. There was something dark about his face, the way his skin thinned over his bones. “Does it matter why, Layla? It’s just a stupid necklace.”

“That’s bullshit! You knew how much this necklace meant to me.” It was the only thing that linked me to my mother—to who I really was, and he knew that.

“It doesn’t matter.” He stalked forward, and I had to force myself not to move away. His pupils started to dilate. “I’m not interested in rekindling a pointless infatuation. Does that break it down enough for you? Do you understand now? I’m a demon, Layla. A full-blooded one who isn’t ashamed of what my kind does. And you are only half demon. You want to be like your precious Wardens and Stony. Being in my presence should fill you with disgust. Why would you want to be standing here, let alone be with me?”

The pain spread from my chest, settling in my bones. “So this has been, what—a game to you? I don’t believe that!” I held my ground, hand shaking around the ring. “You want me to believe that you’re nothing more than a demon, but the way you kissed me, what you said to me before you were taken in that trap, proves otherwise.”

“You’re so naive. A kiss? A few sentimental words uttered before I thought I’d spend eternity being tortured? You can’t judge me for a couple of momentary lapses, Layla. It’s who I am that matters.” He was an inch from me, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I am the Crown Prince, whether you want to hear it or not.”

“That means nothing,” I cried, squeezing the ring—the proof that there was something in him. Evidence he had a conscience...and a heart. “You’re lying and there has to be a reason.”

He turned his head, dragging both his hands through his hair this time. “You know what I am. I told you. I covet pretty things. I like to take things that aren’t mine to have.” Then he looked at me and smiled. The chill of it sent shivers dancing over my skin. “You really thought I cared for you, didn’t you? I wanted you, Layla. You eased my boredom. That’s all.”

I staggered back, wanting to stop his words from meaning anything to me, from hurting, but there was no stopping it. In an instant, I realized I should’ve known better. This whole time, I should’ve known better. After all, he was right. I had no experience with these things—with guys and relationships. If I...if I had meant something to him, he would’ve come to me before tonight: because if it was the other way around, his would’ve been the first place I went.

And that was just sad.

“I really don’t know what I was thinking. I usually don’t go for virgins. They are so very messy. Someone like your classmate Eva is far more entertaining and skilled in that department. Is she still around?” He sighed, shrugging casually, but a muscle ticked along his jaw. “Like I said, I should’ve realized you’d catch feelings, shortie. My bad.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. His endearment seemed unnecessarily cruel, paired with what he was saying. “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say.” Roth spun away. The line of his spine was unnaturally stiff. “Bambi will remain with you.”

I blinked back the tears, refusing to let them fall. “I don’t—”

“I don’t care if that’s not what you want. She stays with you.”

I stared at his back, feeling choked from the inside out. “You’re a bastard.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me, expression stark in the moonlight. “Goodbye, Layla.”

And then he was gone.

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_a64c2ffa-25a2-5bc4-a155-37bcea339714)

I didn’t remember much of the short walk back to the house. There was an ache in my chest that rivaled what I’d felt when I’d seen Roth in the devil’s trap. It was cold and hot at the same time, burning and icing over my insides. A knot had formed in the back of my throat and the dampness behind my eyes increased with every step.

What Roth had said did more than just sting, and the horrible weight of the pressure settling between my breasts warned that something might have been broken in there, even if I hadn’t acknowledged how deep my feelings for him had run.

I usually don’t go for virgins.

God, had I been that foolish, that wrong about him? My cheeks felt scalded as his words replayed themselves. Each one had been barb-tipped, spoken with the intent to maim, and they had. My hands trembled as I folded my arms across my chest, ignoring the pain of my stitches pulling. But that hug...the way he’d held me close? It had meant nothing to him? I couldn’t easily accept that. Or the fact that those tortured words he’d cast at me before the trap had taken him—words I’d held on to—had been spoken so carelessly. But maybe I was just that naive. Catch feelings? He’d been right. I’d caught them and I had hugged them close. And now look.

Under the pain, a different kind of anguish formed in the back of my throat—a scorching thirst took root. I could feel it in every cell, even in the ends of my teeth. The need to feed rose swiftly and without hesitation. My emotions were all over the place, fueling the illicit desire.

I wiped at my cheeks angrily as I reached the driveway. Wardens were milling around the entrance, in their true forms with their wings tucked close to their backs, but none paid me any attention as I hurried past them. I couldn’t see their souls, but I could taste their pureness on the tip of my tongue. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to feel that warmth slipping down my throat, easing the coldness and ache Roth had left behind. It wouldn’t be hard either. They didn’t trust me, but they didn’t expect me to outright attack one of them. And once I had a hold of a soul, there would be no stopping—

I cut the thought off, horrified to find that I’d stopped walking. I was just standing there, staring at Zayne’s bowed, golden head, and my mouth was watering. The voracious need to follow through with the fantasy caused my stomach to cramp.