He opened his eyes, and even though they were clouded, I got the impression he was looking into my soul, and the urge to touch him, to run my fingers down his cheek and brush my thumb across his bottom lip was a sudden, sharp ache in my chest. Would his mouth soften at my touch? Would it part on a sigh?

His gaze branded my mouth, making it tingle and swell in anticipation. “When we feed from a demon, it’s always sexual.” His voice dropped an octave, thrumming through me. “Always …”

I fisted my hands and pressed them to my thighs. Fuck, what was this? This wave of need, this poignant urge to press myself to his body and lick him? The mark on my chest throbbed in time to my pulse as if egging me to make the move. To turn my head to the side and offer him my neck. To offer him the wetness that was blooming between my thighs.

As if sensing how close I was to breaking an invisible boundary, Azazel took a step away from me.

“Which is why I never do.”

I was dead, barely clinging to the wall, and he was back to stone-cold, unaffected Azazel. There had to be a switch somewhere. Where was it, and where could I get one because my body was in meltdown now, cursing me for promising it a banging time and not delivering.

I licked my lips and blew out a breath. “Well … um, thank you for the information.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You should know that we have an agent tracking the Dread who attacked the Academy.” He blinked slowly. “I’ll keep you informed.”

He walked away.

I guess we were done then, but it was several seconds before I was able to peel myself off the door and slip into my room.

Cyril raised his head, flicking out his tongue. “If my brows could shoot up, they would,” he said. “You sssmell like you’re in heat.”

“I have no idea what just happened.”

“Maybe that mark of yours?” he suggested.

I rubbed the mark through the material of my shirt. “No, that’s a soulmate mark. Soulmates aren’t necessarily sexual partners.”

“But they can be.”

“Or I could just be horny after the massive adrenaline-fueled fight and all the revelations.”

“Who’s horny?” Cora sat up and stretched.

She looked better. Less drained, more … her.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

She looked down at the pillow she’d just been lying on. “I slept.” She smiled at me. “I think I even dreamed.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep.”

“I don’t. I mean …” She blinked slowly. “I go away sometimes …”

“Huh?”

“Sometimes, I’m not here. I’m somewhere else. A garden. It’s beautiful, and I feel safe there, but I don’t want to stay, and then I’m back here with you.” She frowned. “I thought it was a ghost thing. I don’t know … Like, I thought it was the Beyond calling me, but it’s not, because I’m not a ghost. There is no beyond for me. There’s only you.” Her shoulders tensed. “I don’t know if I want that. I don’t know if I like not having a choice any longer.”

My heart ached for her predicament. Maybe I could simplify it a little. “Do you love me?”

She waved a dismissive hand my way. “Pfft, course I do, you dick.”

“Are you happy, I mean, before you found out about the tulpa bollocks?”

She shook her head slightly. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’ve made friends in Senki, and I like hanging at the tavern. Bartok, the owner, even offered me a job the other day. I was actually thinking of taking him up on it and giving up Soul Savers, but I was worried I’d be forced back into the system and have to move on, and …” Her eyes widened in revelation. “And now I don’t. I’m not a ghost.”

I smiled at her. “You’re not dead, Cora. You’re alive. You’re a tulpa. You’re fucking alive, and there is no shame in being different.”

She took a moment to process that. “Fuck it. You’re right. I slept, and I dreamed. I’m alive.”

And she also looked more solid than she had when she’d lain down.

I nodded firmly. “And tomorrow night, we’re going out.”

“We are?” She looked surprised and then instantly suspicious. “You hate going out.”

“Not anymore. Not if we go out in the Underealm. You and me, down to Senki. We’re gonna hit the tavern and have a great time. Cyril, too.”

“You promised ratsss,” Cyril said, eyes glinting in anticipation.

“And rats you shall have.”

A full moon ran its silvery fingers over my skin as I lay in bed. It was late, and Cora and Cyril had retired to their room hours ago. Just as well I hadn’t pressed her to stay with me.

It was hot, too hot, and the fact that Azazel kept entering my thoughts didn’t help my discomfort. His rumbly voice, his warm breath on my cheek, his scent, and the way he’d branded me with a look.

I kicked off the sheets and pressed my thighs together to quell the ache that begged me to touch myself. I was swollen with need, and the only way I was going to get any sleep was to release the sweet tension that was gathering at my core.

I slipped a hand into my panties and dipped my fingers into my wetness. Oh, fuck that felt … Mmm. I circled my clit and then rubbed downward, hissing at the pleasurable sensations. My hips began to move into my hand. I rolled onto my back and opened my legs wider, pushing my hips up as I slid two fingers deep inside me. I should get up and grab Errol, but this felt too good to stop.

Just give in, just let it take you. Azazel’s breath on my mouth, his milky gaze on my throat, his tongue in my mouth, his lips sliding over mine, and his hands kneading my breasts. He’d suck on my nipples and then slide down my body to plant himself between my thighs and run his tongue up my slit and—I cried out as my body spasmed and rippled with a violent orgasm that had me rocking desperately into my hand as I rode the wave and crested again and again.

Fuck. I lay back, chest heaving, and then shame stung my cheeks. What the fuck was I doing? Shit. Had anyone heard? How loud was I?

I rolled onto my side and pulled the covers up over me. I’d just wanked off to Azazel, and honestly, I wasn’t even embarrassed.

I’d told Cora I was okay being single, and at the time, that was true, but my recent higher-than-usual horny drive was accompanied by the desire to be intimate, not just sexually but emotionally. I needed a man of my own. Someone to be there for me for once.

I closed my eyes, and Azazel’s face filled my vision. Urgh. Several minutes passed, but sleep refused to come.

Dammit.

I threw back the covers and pulled on some sweats. Back in Necro, there was only one cure for sleeplessness.

Some Chaos Dimensions. I’d kick some cript ass in the game and wind down that way. I needed to level my character up anyway. I hesitated outside Cora’s room. She usually kept me company while I played, but she was asleep. Really asleep, and I was loath to wake her.

I grabbed a snack from the kitchen—some crisps I’d had Mal pick up from Necro—and then made myself comfortable in the second lounge.

Unlike the main lounge, this one had cushy sofas made for comfort, not looks. It was a chill-out room with a surround-sound music system, and a huge flat-screen TV bolted to the wall. Although I rarely saw the guys in here.

My gaming system was set up on a table under the TV. The game disc was already in. I’d played a week ago with Cora to cheer me on, so it was just a matter of loading up my saved game.

The TV came on, and I entered the world of the mutated creatures called cripts and huge saber wolves and bloodbeasts. Wait, when had I gotten to this part of the map? I’d been in the marshes last I’d played … hadn’t I?

“Mind if I play?” The sofa dipped as Mal joined me.

I masked my surprise with a shrug and slid a quick glance his way. Bare torso as usual, so his abs were on display. I was still pissed at him and Conah. I opened my mouth to tell him to piss off then changed my mind.

Some company would be nice. “Only if you put on a shirt.”

“Spoilsport. Come on. Unless you’re scared I’ll beat you.”

“It’s co-op.” I kept my eyes on the screen as I cast a spell that melted a cript’s insides.

“Then let me be on your team.”

“Fine. But you’ll be level one, so don’t go running into the—”

But he was already in, appearing by my side as a tank character and charging the horde. Level forty. What the fuck?

“I may have played this before,” he said.

He’d imported his character into my game, which explained why I didn’t recognize the level.

I healed his ass when his health dropped, and we finished off the cripts in companionable silence. I snuck a look at him as we played. His profile was lit by the flickering light from the TV, and his tongue peeked out the side of his mouth as he concentrated. His hair was mussed, and he looked young and unguarded and fucking adorable.

Yeah, it was impossible to stay mad at Mal.

Chapter Twenty-One

My stomach rumbled as I headed quickly for the kitchens. It was just after dawn, but my body was wide awake and ready for whatever the day would bring despite only four hours of sleep.

I needed to check in with my team and Dayna at Deadside just as soon as I got a new comm, but right now, I needed to eat.

Cora was fast asleep, snoring softly under her duvet when I’d checked on her. Our long chat the night before and real sleep seemed to be working wonders for her. There was no sign of Cyril, though. He was probably exploring the nooks and crannies of this place, spying on the imps as they went about their duties. So far, I’d barely bumped into them. I knew Conah had one, Polyindra or something, but I hadn’t met her, and Azazel … Did he have one? There was someone who cleaned, but the only evidence was the dust-free lounge and the dish-free sink.

They didn’t cook, though, that was up to us. Eggs and toast. That was the ticket. Even though the eggs here were twice the size they were in the human world and a funny green color, they tasted fine.