Brimstone Prince. Barbara Hancock J.

Brimstone was a pleasant burn even if it shouldn’t be.

      “I defend myself and my work,” she answered. Then she sheathed her father’s sword at her back and rose slowly to meet his advance. Only at that point did he realize he’d moved toward her. He stopped. He blinked. His hands fisted at his sides.

      “Is it your command of the elements that calls me? Your command of fire?” Michael asked.

      “My kachinas are packed away,” Lily reminded him.

      “Then what? I have control over the Brimstone in my blood. I gained control as a child and I’ve never lost it. I’ve always credited the music for keeping it in check. My music soothes it. Or so I thought,” Michael said. He’d taken two more steps. He was directly in front of her now. She had to lift her chin to look up into his eyes. They glittered in the firelight. He didn’t have to tell her that his Brimstone was burning nearly out of control. She could feel it. The heat came off of him in waves and nothing could have stopped her from taking the last step between them.

      Her affinity had blossomed up and out. Her body hummed with it. No song necessary at all. She took that step and Michael sucked in a deep breath in response as her breasts touched his chest.

      “Daemons are drawn to me. It’s something bequeathed by my father’s blood,” Lily confessed.

      “Samuel’s Kiss bequeathed an affinity to my mother and her sister through their mother. A dying man saved my grandmother. Gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but he gifted her something else with those life-saving breaths,” Michael said. “She passed it to her children, and my mother passed it to me.”

      Lily hummed out loud when his hands came up to cup the sides of her face. Moisture filled her eyes. She’d never known her father was responsible for gifting the D’Arcys with affinity. Ezekiel had never told her. Michael’s human grandmother. The passage of time in the hell dimension didn’t match with the passage of time on earth.

      “My father’s name was Samuel,” she breathed out.

      “How is this possible? Samuel died before my mother was born,” Michael said. His mouth was so close to hers that his warm breath caused her lips to tingle.

      “I don’t know,” Lily lied just as Michael leaned to press his lips to hers.

      The moisture in her eyes wasn’t for the loss of her father. He’d already been gone a long time. She’d shed all the tears she could shed for him years ago. Her eyes filled because she knew in that instant that she’d been right about the daemon king’s manipulations. Michael wasn’t some random prince she’d met in the desert night. He was the reason she’d been allowed to leave the palace. And it didn’t matter that his likeness was nestled with her kachina dolls in a dusty backpack on the sand.

      He wasn’t meant for her. Her destiny might be twined with his but not for reasons of the heart. He was meant for the throne. And the daemon king expected her to help him force Michael to accept it. His Brimstone blood made him vulnerable to her powerful affinity and that made him vulnerable to the daemon king’s manipulations, if she didn’t resist them herself.

      His lips were full and warm against hers. She didn’t reject the intimacy of his moist, hot tongue. She opened for him. She eagerly met his tongue with flicks of her own. She pressed into his muscular body and his arms fell from her face to her back, where they smoothed and molded the curves of her body to fit against him. She had been forced to find haven in hell, but she tasted heaven on Michael’s lips. It was a paradise flavored with salty tears.

      She would be damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.

      Her father had made a deal with the daemon king to protect her. For Lily, it had been fifteen years ago. On earth more time had passed. Enough for a Brimstone prince to be born and grow to his majority. And now Lily could guess what price she might have to pay for Ezekiel’s protection.

      * * *

      The hellhound saved them. He leaped through the fire, scattering embers and sparks and coals in his wake as a ferocious growl erupted from his chest. They broke apart and he landed between them on stiff legs with his back hunched high.

      “What the hell, Grim?” Michael protested.

      “No. He’s right. We can’t burn so bright. It’s time to go,” Lily said. She was already finishing the job Grim had started, kicking apart the fire and burying the coals with desert sand.

      “We don’t know which direction to take yet,” Michael protested.

      “Away. First we go away and then I’ll take the time to determine specifics,” Lily said. “Rogues always find me. You found me. More will come. Especially if I don’t tamp the affinity down.” She stomped on the buried fire as if to physically illustrate her point. Then she stilled and closed her eyes. She actually knew when he took a step toward her. Lily raised her hands and held them up to ward him away.

      He might have gone to her side anyway except Grim was staring out into the desert night growling at the darkness. Something was out there stalking them. Probably more than one thing.

      “Right. Come on,” Michael said.

      It took only seconds to grab their things. His guitar. Her bag. Grim growled louder, deep in his chest, an obvious warning to whatever approached. Lily glanced one more time at her dented SUV, but it was too far away. Michael had climbed onto his motorcycle. It was a decision of the moment to hop on behind him and wrap her arms around his chest. He didn’t seem surprised. The machine roared to life beneath them as daemons appeared from the shadows.

      Michael wasted no more time. He pointed the motorcycle to the road and goosed the accelerator. Lily held on tight as they narrowly escaped dozens of daemons they couldn’t have possibly defeated even with Grim’s help. The hellhound must have been able to count. Lily saw him materialize on the road beside them, already running full speed, his legs a blur of shifting smoke.

      They drove until dawn, which arrived in a burst of russet hues from umber to golden orange, but in the hours of road-eating travel Lily failed to figure out how she could break it to Michael Turov that he’d just rescued the woman who would be forced to seal his hellish fate.

       Chapter 3

      Michael instinctively headed to the nearest redoubt he knew. Lily needed a protected place to perform her ritual and he would need to switch the motorcycle for a vehicle that could hold supplies for two. When he’d started touring the Southwest, he’d decided to travel light, but he’d also wanted safe places to crash in between gigs and inevitable clashes with Rogues. He’d found the perfect place already built by a wealthy survivalist with an environmentalist streak outside of Phoenix, Arizona.

      He pulled the motorcycle into a drive that had been created with packed earth and crushed gravel as reddish brown as the surrounding sand. He felt Lily become more alert behind him after the mind-numbing miles they’d traveled. The sun was rising, but the earth-sheltered home built into the ground of the Sonoran Desert would be a cool respite. Especially if they went to separate rooms. A glittering expanse of glass greeted them, but between the layers of glass were blinds that automatically opened and closed when necessary to keep the temperature of the home consistent. The thick cement construction was hidden by earth and the roof was covered with desert grass with only strategically placed skylights to indicate the home beneath the ground.

      Like an ordinary dog, his beloved Grim waited at the sliding glass front door. The hellhound could have morphed through in a swirl of smoky shadow. Instead, he watched and waited for them to climb off the motorcycle and walk to his side. Michael watched as Lily approached the massive, ugly creature carefully, but without trepidation. Hellhounds were rare. He wasn’t surprised she’d never seen one. He only knew of one other in existence besides Grim. His cousin, Sam, had been given a hellhound puppy when he was a baby. There was much to admire in Lily’s attitude toward the beast that was as tall as her chest. When she actually reached to place