A wave of queasiness hit me as I drove past a fried chicken stand, and I gritted my teeth against it. Sure, the cuff gave me a great deal of peace of mind, but this constant simmering nausea sucked. If pregnancy and morning sickness were anything like this, I wanted no part of it.

A cold stab of apprehension went through me. I’d been blithely assuming the nausea was because of the cuff. Was I engaging in unhealthy denial? Nausea, check. Mood swings, check. Shiiiiiit. I’d read enough novels where the woman felt sick and seemed somehow oblivious to the connection between regular booty calls and getting knocked up. I was definitely getting the former. But I’m also on the pill, I thought, almost desperately. I’d slept with Rhyzkahl the night before, but when was the last time prior to that?

At the next stoplight I retrieved my phone from my bag, and pulled up the calendar. Since I was on the pill I had a pretty good idea of my cycle. I chewed my lower lip as I looked at the dates. The pill wasn’t infallible; I knew that. And the dates could possibly work out. But it didn’t seem very likely. Still, my gut remained tight as I stopped at a drugstore and bought two pregnancy tests—just to be sure—while praying to any gods willing to listen that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. Wouldn’t that set the rumor mill spinning!

My luck held, and I made my purchases without anyone but the bored checker knowing. Even made it home without puking. But that’s where my tenuous hold on luck failed me. The crunch of gravel came from behind me as I ran up the steps. I turned, my hand on the doorknob.

The dark blue Crown Vic pulled up and parked next to my car. Ryan gave me a smile as he stepped out, and I fought to give the same in return, hyper-aware of the pregnancy tests in my messenger bag. I glanced down to make sure that the zipper on my bag was closed and spied the cuff on my wrist. Shit. I didn’t want Ryan asking about that. He’d worry, or get pissed, or something else I didn’t feel like dealing with. I knew I’d have to tell him at some point…just not right at this moment. Luckily I was inside the wards now. I hurriedly slipped it off, dropped it in the outer pocket of my bag, and shoved the velcro flap down.

The queasy feeling receded as soon as it was off my arm, and I took a deep breath of relief. Okay, maybe not pregnant after all, I thought a little shakily. At least I hoped that was the cause. Still, I planned on testing to be sure.

I yanked my thoughts away from that topic as Ryan approached. I knew too much about him now. Can he read my thoughts? Even subconsciously? I was pretty darn sure that Rhyzkahl could, which meant that—if Ryan truly was a demonic lord—he might be able to as well. Think of something innocuous, like a white wall, or a purple giraffe. Ugh, I had no experience in trying to avoid having my mind read. Purple Giraffe. Purple Giraffe!

“Hey, Kara,” he said, smile relaxed and easy as he climbed the stairs. No sign on his face that he was picking up any of my stray thoughts. Instead he cocked his head, smile widening. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

I blinked at him, only now realizing he had a pizza box in one hand and a boxed set of DVDs in the other. I grimaced. “Oh, right. You’re going to attempt to turn me into a nerd.”

He laughed. “It’s a gradual process, but I fully intend to wear you down.”

The tension eased out of me. This was familiar ground again. I entered my house and dropped my bag by the desk near the door, nudging it lightly underneath in what I hoped was a casual manner and not an obvious attempt to keep it out of sight.

He didn’t seem to notice anything and moved into what passed for my living room, setting the pizza and DVDs down on the coffee table. Curious, I picked up the DVD box and peered at the cover.

“Seriously?” I said, casting a doubtful look at him. “This spaceship looks like a chicken.”

He gave me a mock scowl. “It’s a beautiful ship.”

“Is this guy trying to look like a cowboy?” I continued, purposely needling him. “A space cowboy?”

Giving a tragic sigh, he snatched the box out of my hand. “Just watch the show.”

I chuckled and plopped onto the couch. “Fine. I’ll watch your space cowboy chicken ship show. But only because you brought pizza.” At least the nausea was pretty much gone.

Ryan shot a glance down the hallway. “Where’s your roommate?”

I shrugged. “She’s around. She doesn’t usually hang out inside. I think she feels closed in or something. Or maybe she just likes giving me space.”

“Ah. Makes sense,” he said, sliding a disc into my DVD player. “I guess it’s an adjustment for you.” He moved to the couch and sat. Friend distance, I noted. Not right next to me, but not on the other end, either. “Have you ever had a roommate?” he asked. “I mean, besides your aunt, which I figure doesn’t count.”

“Had one in college. We pretty much ignored each other.”

Ryan grinned. “The best kind.”

He started the DVD, and we lapsed into comfortable silence while we munched pizza and watched. To my chagrin I found myself intrigued by the premise and the characters, though I didn’t dare admit it. He’d be way too satisfied if I did that.

He was entranced with the show, and I found myself watching him surreptitiously. He was a damn attractive man, though with a completely different kind of look than Rhyzkahl. Where Rhyzkahl was utterly beautiful and perfect, Ryan had more of a rugged, “man’s man” thing going on. He had a great mouth, too. What would it be like to have that mouth on mine? And damn, what I’d give to run my hand down his chest. A slow flush of warmth crept through me. Why did I have to be careful around him? That was absurd. It didn’t matter who or what he was. There was nothing at stake. Ryan was sexy as all hell, and the fact that I suspected he was a demonic lord only made him hotter.

Somewhere deep in the back of my mind I knew there was a good reason to keep Ryan in the “friend zone,” but it didn’t seem terribly important right now. Why hold myself back from what I wanted?

I shifted and reached to the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair the way I’d been wanting to ever since I met him. He twitched in surprise at the touch and turned his head to look at me, brow drawing down in question and confusion.

“Kara… ?”

“I like your hair,” I murmured, sliding my other hand across his thigh. His breath caught, and I smiled, enjoying his reaction. “I like all of you.” I moved in closer, shifting to nuzzle his neck. “You smell great.”

“Jesus, Kara.” His voice was suddenly rough, and his hands tightened into fists as a shudder ran through him. The scent of him wrapped around me, and I ran my tongue lightly up the side of his neck. “Kara, wait…are you sure—?”

I didn’t let him finish the sentence. Shifting quickly to straddle his hips, I kissed him, groaning softly as my tongue found his. He tasted great too, and now I wanted more.

His hands on my shoulders gently but firmly pushed me back, breaking the kiss. I couldn’t understand the expression on his face. I knew he wanted me too, so why would he look distressed? Maybe he simply wanted to be sure. “Fuck me, Ryan,” I breathed, grinding myself against him. I gave a throaty laugh. He did want me. Some things were obvious. “Come on. Right here. I want you inside of me.”

A distant part of me clamored for attention, but it seemed terribly dim, and the desire for what I wanted overpowered it easily. I slid my hands up his chest. “You want me. I know it. You want to fuck me.” I pushed his hands away and captured his mouth again.

I heard the front door slam open, but I didn’t pay any attention. All I wanted was the feel and taste of Ryan. Something seized me by the back of my shirt, and I let out a snarl as whatever it was hauled me away from Ryan. Twisting, I tried to strike out at the interloper, but Eilahn blocked my blow easily and delivered a sharp and stinging slap across my face.

“You fucking bitch!” I howled, flailing out another attempt to strike the grim-faced syraza. She said nothing but struck me again, this time hard enough for me to see stars. I staggered and sprawled on the arm of the couch as I dimly heard Eilahn ordering Ryan to go outside. I turned to look at him and caught sight of the oddly tortured expression on his face, though I couldn’t figure out why that could be. Surely he wanted to fuck me too, right? What was wrong with that? Why the hell was Eilahn interfering? She had no right! Had Rhyzkahl ordered her to keep me away from other men? With a snarl of rage I threw myself at her, swinging a punch for her head, but she stopped me cold and seized my throat in a grip that felt like steel. She wasn’t cutting off my air—instead she had her fingers placed perfectly to cut off the blood to my brain. I clawed at her fingers, panicked as the blood roared in my ears, and my vision narrowed. Flailing, I watched the grim and worried set of her face as the blackness swept in.

“I am sworn to protect you,” I heard her say through the roaring. Then I heard nothing at all.

“What happened?”

“I do not know.”

“I wouldn’t have.…” That was Ryan’s voice. “You do know that, right?”

My head throbbed hideously, and the voices seemed to stab through my ears.

“I do.” That was Eilahn. I cracked an eye open uncertainly. The memory of the last few minutes before I lost consciousness was horribly clear. Humiliatingly so. Eilahn crouched before me, and I did my best to focus on her. I knew that Ryan was nearby, but I didn’t dare try and look at him. Oh fuck, I never wanted to look at him again.

I burst into tears instead, which, of course, only served to increase my total humiliation. To my complete shock she pulled me into an embrace. I’d been sitting on the couch with her kneeling before me, but in a graceful and impossibly strong move, she shifted so that she was the one sitting, and I was somehow cradled in her lap. Somehow it didn’t feel demeaning at all. Good thing, since I was utterly aghast at what I’d done and couldn’t stop crying. But the demon merely held me close like a child and hummed softly.