City of Gods and Monsters (House of Devils, #1)

by Kayla Edwards

“Don’t do that, sweetheart,” he said softly. He pressed a kiss to her temple, making her heart skip a beat, and kept his mouth there

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathed. Her skin flushed at the declaration. “You’re making me want to take you into the back rooms myself and forget about this whole thing.”

“Why don’t you?” she challenged. She tipped back her head to look at him. “Are you going to make me beg?” “That’s tempting,” Darien murmured. “Why don’t you start by telling me what you want?”

She dragged a hand up his thigh, feeling the hard muscle beneath her pa...

“You’re not the only one enjoying yourself,” Darien said. He brushed a strand of her hair aside and leaned in close to whisper in her ear, “And you’re not wearing any panties.”

“Why don’t you try me?” she urged. Leaning forward slightly, she caught his lower lip between her teeth—before he could pull away, before he could realize what she was doing—and sucked on it. The taste of him—of that mouth she hadn’t been able to look away from since that fateful day in Rook and Redding’s—was enough to nearly undo her. She let go, pulling back just far enough to assess him.

She would let him. Gods, she would let him if she had the chance, and she didn’t care if everyone in here watched as he laid her back on this table and fucked her with his tongue.

“Try me, Darien Cassel,” she urged. He slid his hand lower as she pressed herself into his touch, and he cupped her, the heat from his body and hers fusing until they were one and the same. “See if I can handle it.”

“When I make you come, you will be all mine. And no one, except me, will have the pleasure of hearing those little sounds you make.”

Darien gave a dark laugh. “Easy,” he mumbled against Loren’s neck. He pressed his mouth against her skin, his tongue sweeping out to taste her. “If you keep rubbing up against my cock, I might have to lay you back on this table and give all these people the performance of a lifetime.”

“Who are you, her boyfriend?” “I’m Darien fucking Cassel.”

HOT. HOT. 🥵

“Yeah, I’m his,” Loren slurred, teetering in her heels. “And he’s Darien fucking Cassel.”

Loren i love u

“I don’t care what I have to do to keep this girl safe, but you’d better learn to listen to me or we’re going to have a fucking problem. If you get her killed, I will be the one to slaughter you and every one of the wolves in your Silverwood District so fast, you’ll wish Calanthe had been the one to do it.”

She tried to answer him, but she only retched again. Darien held her hair with one hand, his other rubbing comforting patterns over her back. She was shaking, and her skin was cold and covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Darien,” she croaked. He loved the way she said his name, as if it was a light she walked toward through darkness. “What is it, sweetheart?” “Will you stay with me tonight?” Her eyes were fully closed now, her body limp. She had asked him that question nearly ten times since he’d brought her home from the club; it was why they were currently in his suite instead of hers. “I’ll stay with you, Loren,”

Her lungs tightening, she started to panic— Until she caught sight of the shirtless Devil sound asleep on the king-sized bed beside her.

“How much of last night was pretending for you?” Concern deepened his features, the corner of his distracting mouth tilting downward. “None of it,” he said. “None of it, Loren. All of that was real for me—every single thing.”

“How much—” “None of it,” she whispered. His expression smoothed. “I meant everything I said and did.” An impish smile ghosted across his lips. “So you do want me.” Loren fought her own smile. “I meant everything I said,” she repeated.

That smile on Darien’s face grew. “Quit fussing, Rookie,” he said. “You’re beautiful.” “Says the perfect god with no shirt on,” she joked, every word breathless. He really was a perfect god, and the way the light streaming in through the slats in the blinds illuminated his body…

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” Loren turned to face him, and when their gazes locked, that adorable smile on his face grew. One hand resting on the door handle, she snickered, though her heart was skipping in her chest—with delight and nerves. “I thought dating wasn’t in your vocabulary, Darien Cassel.”

Sorry I’m late, Darien had written. She glanced at the clock; she wasn’t sure two minutes counted as being late, but the message had her smiling. I’m in the usual spot.

“I have a confession to make.” Loren sucked on her spoon. Darien tracked the movement with a predatory gaze that sent a thrill down her spine. “Uh-oh,” she crooned. “Don’t tell me you can’t afford the bill either and we’re going to have to make a run for it.”

Inside was a charm bracelet of rose gold. Every charm was carved to perfection with the smallest details—and the charms, she realized with heart-stopping clarity, were miniature versions of the shops and restaurants on the Avenue of the Scarlet Star.

One of those reasons was that Darien wasn’t wearing a shirt again; the sight of his bare upper body had her blushing tomato-red. He had more tattoos than the numerals on his knuckles and the mark of the Devils below his ear; along with the full sleeves on both of his arms, he had a back-piece of detailed black flames that swept across his broad shoulders and down to his hips, the fire encasing a hauntingly beautiful masterpiece of the monstrous, three-headed watchdog of hell.

“They’re from a belt,” Darien said of the strange ridges on his back. When she looked at him, his face betrayed no emotion. “My father had a bad temper.”

Something about Loren sitting before Darien with her hand in his, and Darien gazing down at her the way that he was, had the old man smiling as he dried his hands with paper towel.

Randal Slade was Darien’s father.

Loren thought she finally understood why Darien had offered to help her that day in the alley. Because she was human and fresh out of luck, just like his mother.

“But if you want my opinion, you’re the only girl who’s ever had the right to ask me that question.” Her lips curved upward with a smile. “He really likes you, Loren.”

“Though I wouldn’t exactly say it tickled my fancy to hunt it down and gut it.” He set down the glass, stepped up to where Loren was sitting, and smiled down at her as he gave her ponytail a playful tug. “Not in the way you tickle my fancy.”

Whether he called himself a Devil or not, he had quickly turned into her angel. Perhaps she was becoming his, too.

“This is amazing,” Loren whispered as she marveled again at the colorful stars. “Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” “At the risk of sounding corny as hell, I’d say it holds a firm second for me.” There was a smile in his voice that confirmed exactly what Loren thought he meant by making that statement. “Darien Cassel,” Loren crooned, her tone teasing as she sat up and braced a hand on the truck bed behind her, “are you meaning to tell me that I hold first place in your mind? Over the galaxy of all things?”

“I’m beginning to think you’re trying to date me, Darien Cassel.” That hand cupped her chin softly, the rough pad of his thumb tracing the shape of her lips, over and over again. Her skin tingled as blood rushed to the area, and her head turned weightless. She couldn’t breathe. “What would you say if I told you that you’re right?”

She was his, she realized. Perhaps she had been since the moment she met him.

wish I could go back to that night and never pull away from you like I did. I wish…I wish you would come home.”

The dog had died. Singer was dead.

FUCKING BAWLING

She’d lost a friend. A dog, of all things—the one creature in the world that would never do anything to hurt the person they loved.

“Tell me, Liliana Sophronia, what it is that you wish to bargain for.”

She really was an angel. An angel in a house of devils.

“Loren, I’m crazy about you. Since the moment I pulled away from you—like an idiot, might I add—I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. You’re all I think about.” He drew in a ragged breath. “You’re all I want.”

You are the kindest thing that has ever happened to me. You are…you are my home. And I think it’s safe to say that my life would be a whole lot darker without you in it. You light up my life, Loren Calla.”

“I think,” she began in a breathy voice that had him looking up at her again, “that you are what’s best for me, Darien Cassel. Where you are is where I belong. And I don’t think you could ever convince me otherwise.”

“You are beautiful, Loren Calla,” he told her. “And you are special.” Tears pooled in her eyes, and her mouth wobbled. “Don’t you ever doubt it—not for one second.”

“I’m afraid of plenty. But my greatest fear is losing you. I’ve always been afraid of losing you.”

“You had us going for a second there, Calla,” Maximus said. “It would be nice if you stopped trying to die once in a while.”

as he created a sound barrier that would stop anyone from hearing him, Loren realized.

As he threw his head back and screamed. Tears welled in Loren’s eyes as she watched him break. There wasn’t a hint of the man she’d come to know these past few months. There was no strength left in the way he held himself in that moment, none of the cocky and cool-headed killer she’d gotten so used to. Whatever had happened in that house had reduced him to a shell of his former self; had stripped him down to this raw and vulnerable being.

“We’re going to need more firepower,” Darien said. And then he smiled a little, and it was the smile of a true devil, as he added, “And maybe some more teeth.”

He opened his mouth to say it—to say those three words, the three he’d never said to anyone before, except to his mother, sister, and occasionally his Devils.

“I love you.” The words—the only three that mattered—were a strangled gasp.