Chapter One

Come on, come on. You can do it.

Tamara’s breath caught, painfully constricting inside her chest. She stopped, pressed the back of her head against the brick wall and tried to release shallow breaths without hyperventilating. Her burning lungs resisted, and her sprained ankle throbbed with pain. She’d been running for so long. The stench coming off the dumpsters made her want to gag, but if she did, she’d give herself away. They’d hear her.

“Where the hell did she go?” the familiar male voice of one of her captors called from near the mouth of the alley.

“She’s got to be around here somewhere. We both saw her race into the alley, did we not? She might have the power to do a great many things with that body of hers, but disappearing isn’t one of them.” The second voice sounded cultured and British. Unlike the first man, she’d never heard this one before. Not until she’d made her escape under the watchful eye of the moon on this cold night.

Footsteps echoed around the concrete alley. The beat of her heart thumped so hard and fast, the sound almost drowned out everything else. Any second now, they’d find her again. When they did, Tamara would be forced to endure another bout of conjuring and imprisonment inside a mansion she’d wanted to escape for years.

Her skin crawled at the thought.

I can’t let them take me back there this time. This wasn’t her first attempt at running away. But it would be her last.

She turned to her right, ready to jump out from her hiding spot. If she raced back up the alley, maybe she could still get away. The element of surprise would be on her side. She might even be able to push her pursuers out of the way before they had a chance to react. As she sucked in another breath and lifted her right leg to run, a vice-like grip wrapped around her waist, dragging her back.

“What the hell?” How had either of the men managed to sneak up on her this quickly? She tried to look around but the arms around her were so secure, she couldn’t move an inch. Her feet lifted off the ground for a second before she was hauled into a doorway she hadn’t even noticed. The door shut silently.

“Shut up and they won’t hear or see you,” a male voice whispered in her ear.

She shivered at the proximity of his smooth tone. If she wasn’t so confused, Tamara was positive she’d be consumed with fear. Having a complete stranger holding her in the darkened interior of a decrepit building was enough to have her heart thumping out of control. Again.

Footsteps rebounded off the brick walls outside, forcing her attention back to the men’s consistent approach.

“Damn! She’s not in here,” Burt or Burke called just outside the door. She couldn’t remember his name as she’d never made any attempt to learn much about her captors. They’d stolen her life and didn’t deserve her interest in any of their personal details.

“Are you sure?” asked the man with the British accent.

“Positive.” He retreated, but her heart didn’t slow down. She’d slipped from one bad situation into another. Whoever had saved her probably had an ulterior motive. They always did. No one ever wanted a witch, unless it was to get something out of them.

Tamara made a move to turn around but the firm grip around her body tightened. Masculine, hard muscle pressed into the curve of her spine. His chin rested on the top of her head. His breath stirred the sweaty strands of her hair and roused another shiver.

The man holding her shifted his stance, keeping his grip on her so tight she could feel every inch of his hard body against hers. A strand of his hair tickled her cheek. “Don’t move. They haven’t left yet,” he whispered.

The door in front of her snapped open, and she sucked in a breath. An unfamiliar warlock glared into the darkness, his dark eyes glowing like that of a cat. His gaze swept right over them, but he didn’t seem to register that they were standing right in front of him.

Sweat trickled down her spine as it collected on the waistband of her jeans.

“Okay, she’s not here. But we’re not giving up. If we can’t find her before midnight tomorrow, every one of our plans will have been in vain.” He released the door, and this time it slammed with a thump that made her heart jump.

“You can let me go now,” she whispered, straining against the man still gripping onto her. Although, the ordeal was far from over and she now had to deal with whomever this person was, Tamara felt a strange sense of ease. Almost as if the biggest threat to her life had faded into the shadows and for the first time in years, she could take a deep breath without constantly being watched.

“Maybe I don’t want to let you go. I think this is kind of cozy, don’t you?” He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through her body in a way that reached deep inside her tapping into the depths of a power and desire she’d given up on during her captivity. If she lost total control now after denying the need for so long, she wasn’t sure how her body would betray her. Physical attraction and satisfaction always risked rousing the darkness that threatened to consume her. Especially when it involved someone who was more than human, and something told her this man was a lot more than she was ready to deal with at the moment. How else had he been able to shroud them from powerful warlocks?

She released a breath in hopes of sounding calm. “Being chased and dragged into a dirty, dark stairwell is not cozy. Where the hell do you come from, that you’d think such a thing?”

He released her with a jerk.

When she turned to face him, she instantly noticed the flash of red inside his iris. It disappeared, flicking back to blue in an instant, but she’d seen it. Tamara knew what he was, and he definitely wasn’t human. Not that she’d spent much time around humans anyway, unless it involved random passionate encounters to soothe away the ache of desire. Before the warlocks had taken her five years ago, she’d been surrounded by witches. Her heart ached at the thought. Did her coven still look for her, or had they cut their losses and now pretended she’d never existed? They’d always held a degree of shame towards her.

She took a step back, releasing the strained thoughts. “You get the hell away from me, you hear me!”

The man lifted both his palms out in front of him. “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.”

She stepped back into the door.

He rolled his eyes and took a step forward. “I just saved you from those warlocks, didn’t I? Why would I do that if my intention is to hurt you?”

“But you’re a—”

“Yeah, I’m of the demonic kind, so what?” He crossed his arms over his chest. The bulging biceps and triceps caught her attention. Even in the dim light around them inside this shabby doorway, she could make out every alluring detail about this tall man. His broad shoulders strained against the black T-shirt wrapped around his torso. His angular face shadowed by a sprinkle of dark stubble ended in a perfect jaw. The dark hair was mussed and longish with red highlights.

She tried not to think about how soft it felt when it had tickled her cheek. Stop it, she thought. He’s a demon. He can take on any guise he wants. But deep down inside, they’re all the same—ugly and deranged, with horns, a tail and leathery skin. She’d seen it enough times. It wasn’t fantasy. While other children had feared fictional monsters on TV, she’d been forced to learn about the real ones—demons.

Her spine sizzled with a spark of energy, tracing around the circular source of magic beneath her top. The buzz singed her skin, and she squirmed uncomfortably. It was his power reacting to hers. Either from his arrogance or frustration, maybe even anger. But it felt like a surge of heat that filled the space between them in seconds, almost suffocating.

She wanted to go to him, but resisted.

Tamara struggled to suck in a breath. “Don’t.” She leaned over, her hands pressed against her thighs as she took one small breath after another. A soft caress along her spine made her shake, just as the heat subsided. She couldn’t understand this raw attraction burning her up from the inside. Her studies in magic had never mentioned anything about a witch feeling this way in the presence of a demon. The demonic were great manipulators, as this one was proving now. Yet, it didn’t explain why she could still feel his touch on her body and wanted more of it. Or why she found his current guise so alluring.

“I’m sorry about that. Sometimes the energy still gets the best of me.” He stepped back, giving her enough room to straighten.

She stared at him, wishing she didn’t feel an instant spark toward him, but magic called to magic. No matter if one was black and the other white. She couldn’t resist this suffocating attraction to his underlining energy anymore than she could lie about what she really was. It had been a long time since she’d been out in the world and experienced life without restrictions, and he looked oh-so-good. She had a hard time removing her gaze from this man.

“What do you want from me?” There, she’d gotten the question out of the way. Now she could face the disappointment instantly, get it over with. The sooner she found out what his price for concealing her from the warlocks was, the quicker she could attempt to make her escape. She had a feeling he’d be harder to flee from than the warlocks.

He lifted a dark eyebrow. “What makes you think I want anything from you?”

She snickered. “No one would help another without expecting some sort of payment.”

“I don’t want any payment from you. I’d just like to make sure those warlocks don’t get their hands on you again.”

“Who are you?”

“Tyler. You can call me Tyler.”

“Yeah, and I suppose that’s not your real name.” She shook her head, waiting for the inevitable. Demons always plucked a human name out of thin air, to keep their true one hidden. Too much power and knowledge could be taken from a demon’s real name.

“It is now. I’ve walked amongst the humans long enough to have earned the name.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest again. “Now, are we going to stand here all night while you fire questions my way, or will you allow me to get you to safety first?”

“I can get myself to safety, thanks.” Tamara turned away and reached for the door handle. If he didn’t want anything in return, he’d let her walk away. Right? He caught her forearm, long fingers wrapped tight around her skin leaving an imprint of heat that stemmed from desire more than pain. She knew he’d been lying. “Let go of me.”

“Is it déjà vu or have we already had this discussion?” He sidled up closer. “You don’t have anywhere to go.”

She avoided his eyes. “How would you know?”

“Tamara, you’ve been living in Warlock Central for five years now. There’s nowhere else.”

“I’ve got a family…” Her voice failed. The pain of realizing she hadn’t seen or heard from any of them for over five years made her chest feel heavy, burdened. What would they do or say if she turned up on their doorstep? Would they welcome her with open arms or stare at her with suspicion? She’d heard the stories of witches being taken by the warlocks for their power and then being dumped back at the coven’s doorstep in hopes of infiltration. Her fellow witches would look at her with doubt and never really welcome her back. Even her mother.

“It’s been a long time since you saw them. Things have changed a lot.”

She turned to point an accusing finger at his hard chest, keeping a tight grip on the door handle with her other hand. “Who the hell are you, and how do you know so much about me?”

“I’ve already told you, I’m here to help you get away from those brutes.” He gently pulled her hand back and away from the handle. Her grip loosened until his hand engulfed hers, and she stared dumbfounded at this tall man. His fingertips brushed her cheek. “I’ve been sent here to help you. I’m now your protector, so allow me to do my job. It’s all I want, to ensure your safety.”

“Did the coven send you?”

He didn’t answer her question, just stared down at her with those bright blue eyes. This demon, like all the others, hid so much, yet she could still see the desire she felt mirrored in there. Tamara was sure of it. Her intuition had been acute since the day she could speak. Whatever confusing attraction she felt, he suffered from it too, but just like her, he wouldn’t want to show it.

A thousand questions whirled around inside her head. Tamara wanted to ask all of them, needed to know how he’d found her. Should be pushing to find out why and who’d sent him. So many things she should be asking, but nothing left her mouth. Not when he lowered his lips near hers and breathed along them. She closed her eyes, anticipating a connection she hadn’t felt for so long.

She needed it, wanted it.

His lips lightly connected with hers before the voices outside the door multiplied as the people after her returned in greater numbers. The bastards wouldn’t give up. Not until she delivered what they wanted.

“Damn, they won’t leave me alone.” Her eyes snapped open and met his.

His pupils were dilated when he said, “I won’t let them hurt you. Now, come on, I know my way around here. We can get out undetected.”

“You would know your way around a shithole like this, wouldn’t you?” She didn’t get the opportunity to dwell on it when Tyler dragged her by the hand and led her up the shaky, metal stairwell inside the decrepit building.

* * * * *

This isn’t how I imagined her, Tyler thought to himself as they stood on the rooftop of the short building. They’d escaped her pursuers, only temporarily. The warlocks were pathetic, power hungry beings but they weren’t stupid and although he’d masked the door through which he’d dragged this beauty, the illusion would shatter soon enough…especially with so many of them down there.

Warlock magic was dirty and destructive. Anything else cast around it literally crumbled after their presence touched it.

But he had strict instructions to ensure the safety of this woman. Sure, they weren’t instructions handed down for her benefit as much as for his master. If Tyler failed him on this important mission, his brother—who also happened to be his biggest rival—Abalam, would reap the rewards. His brother had already accrued enough votes in his direction after Tyler had failed so many missions. But not this one. Now that he’d met the woman he was sworn to protect, he would not fail, and his dear brother would be forced to back off.

There was enough room for both of them beneath the rule of their master, but sibling rivalry had always dominated Abalam’s actions.

The connection he’d felt towards this witch stirred deep inside him, toying with his power. Tyler had almost malfunctioned and hurt her with a surge of heat from having her pressed so tight against his body. If a small amount of time had that much of an effect on him, he could only imagine what would happen if they were to connect intimately. This wasn’t just about witch magic calling to that of a demon’s. Tamara was special.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Her voice behind him scattered the insane thoughts invading his brain. He really had to focus. Get them off this building and safely into the place he’d rented just for this occasion.

It wasn’t far. He’d hoped to get them there via the human way of walking, but it looked like he’d have no choice but to pull out his demonic transportation. Usually, he avoided the inhuman way of getting around whenever he could, but now wasn’t the time to think about the self-imposed morals he’d adopted once he’d started to reside in the human world. It still amazed him, how the goodness of humanity could change even the darkest heart of a demon. Not that he’d ever been all that dark anyway. He was just a humble servant and any wicked ways he’d exuded had been mostly for show.

Hell was a hard and big place. With so many legions, it was easy to become just another statistic, but being one of Paymon’s right hand men helped his survival and status.

“I asked you a question, demon.”

His breath misted in front of him when he sighed. Frustration wove its way into his system. He hadn’t expected her to be so feisty. Usually, a witch—just like humans—kept captive for any amount of time lost their spark. She should have been defeated, broken. Instead, Tamara seemed confused but determined.

“Calm down, I’m just waiting for the right time to make our escape,” he said over his shoulder. She stood a few steps behind him. The light breeze at this height whipped her dark hair over her face. She attempted to swipe it away but several strands managed to escape every time. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Is the right time when they’ve recaptured me and taken me back to that jail they like to call a home?” She turned around to face the roof door they’d only just walked through themselves.

Tyler couldn’t hear the scum from this height, but he sensed the moment the doorway below was breached. Snippets of rapid conversation surged around him, but he couldn’t catch a single word. They’d advanced faster than he’d anticipated. The door to the rooftop wasn’t masked, making it easier for them to appear at any second.

He turned sideways and extended a hand out toward her. Their gazes met when she turned back to face him. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“What do you mean, leaving? We’re on a rooftop!”

“Don’t get hysterical on me now. Take my hand, and I’ll get you off this roof safely so those warlocks can’t grab you.” He didn’t remove his extended hand.

“This is insane,” she whispered as she slid her small hand into his.

Tyler jerked her hand until she lost her footing and stumbled against his chest. He lifted her into his arms and took a step forward, holding on tight. He cradled her in an embrace as he stood on the edge of the building.

“Don’t look down and relax. I won’t let you go.”

“What do you mean by that?” The panic in her eyes forced a twitch on the corner of his mouth.

“Because we’re going to jump,” he said with a smile.

“What the hell? We can’t jump, we’re—”

He didn’t give her the chance to finish, instead stepped out and over the edge of the rooftop seconds before lightning bolts were thrown their way. One of them caught him in the back of the shoulder but it didn’t slow him down.

Airborne and enjoying the feel of the wind as they fell, Tyler held her closer, ignoring the burning sting on his skin. It would take more than one pathetic bolt strike to cause him any permanent damage. His healing abilities were already working at mending the wound.

Tamara tensed in his grip, hiding her face against his chest as they fell.

Tyler released the glamour keeping his wings hidden from human eyes and gained control of their fall. They swooped out behind him, helping them glide from the rooftop towards safety like a giant bird in the night sky.

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