Page 8 of White Hot Kiss

Zayne tapped his fingers along his stomach. “That’s strange. You’re normally whining to have a later curfew, but it’s not even nine yet.”

I bit my lip. “So? I told you what happened.”

“So, I know you’re not telling me everything.” Something in the way he said that made me turn my head toward him. “Why would you lie to me?”

Our faces were close, but not close enough that it would become dangerous. And Zayne trusted me, believed I was more Warden than demon. I thought about the snake...and the boy who really wasn’t a boy but a high-ranking demon.

I shuddered.

Zayne reached across the tiny space between us, placing his hand atop mine. My heart missed a beat. “Tell me the truth, Layla-bug.”

I could easily recall the first time he’d called me that.

It was the night they’d brought me to this house. At seven years old, I’d been terrified of the winged creatures with jagged teeth and red eyes that had taken me from the foster home. The moment they had set me down in the foyer of this very home, I’d torn through the house and tucked myself into a tiny ball in the back of the first closet I’d found. Hours later, Zayne had coaxed me out of my hidey-hole, holding a pristine teddy bear and calling me Layla-bug. Even at eleven, he’d seemed larger than life to me, and from that moment on I’d been attached to his hip. Something the older Wardens relished giving him a hard time about.

“Layla?” he murmured, tightening his hold on my hand.

Words tumbled out. “Do you think I’m evil?”

His brows furrowed. “Why would you ask that?”

I stared at him pointedly. “Zayne, I’m half-demon—”

“You are a Warden, Layla.”

“And you always say that, but it’s not the truth. I’m more like a...like a mule.”

“A mule?” he repeated slowly, brows furrowing.

“Yeah, a mule. You know, half horse, half donkey—”

“I know what a mule is, Layla. And I really hope you’re not comparing yourself to one.”

I didn’t say anything, because I was. Like a mule, I was a strange hybrid—half demon and half Warden. And because of that, I would never be mated with another Warden. Even demons, if they knew what I was, wouldn’t claim me. So, yeah, I thought the comparison was accurate.

Zayne sighed. “Just because your mother was what she was doesn’t make you a bad person, and it sure as Hell doesn’t make you a mule.”

Turning my head, I resumed staring into space. The fan spun dizzily, creating odd shadows across the ceiling. A demonic mother I’d never met and a father I didn’t remember. And Stacey thought her single-parent household was messed up. I reached down, toying nervously with the ring.

“You know that, right?” Zayne continued earnestly. “You know you’re not an evil person, Layla. You’re a good, smart and—” He stopped, sitting up and hovering over me like a guardian angel. “You...you didn’t take a soul tonight? Layla, if you did you need to tell me right now. We’ll figure something out. I’d never let my father know, but you have to tell me.”

Of course Abbot could never know if I did something like that—not even by accident. As much as he cared for me, he’d still turn me out. Taking a soul was forbidden for a ton of moral reasons.

“No. I didn’t take a soul.”

He stared at me and then his shoulders squared. “Don’t scare me like that, Layla-bug.”

I suddenly wanted to hold Mr. Snotty closer. “I’m sorry.”

Zayne reached down, prying my hand off the bear. “You’ve made mistakes, but you’ve learned from them. You’re not evil. That’s what you need to remember. And what’s in the past is in the past.”

I worried my lower lip, thinking of those “mistakes.” There’d been more than one. The earliest incident had been what brought the Wardens to the foster home. I’d accidentally taken a soul from one of the caregivers—not all of it, but enough that the woman had to be hospitalized. Somehow the Wardens had learned about it through their connections and had tracked me down.

To this day, I didn’t understand why Abbot had kept me. Demons were a matter of black-and-white to the Wardens. There was no such thing as a good or innocent demon. Being part demon meant I should’ve fallen under the old “the only good demon is a dead demon” adage, but for some reason, I’d been different to them.

You know why, whispered an ugly voice in my head, and I closed my eyes. My ability to see souls and the lack thereof, a product of my demonic blood, was a valuable tool in the battle against evil, but Wardens could sense demons when they got close enough to them. Without me, their job would be harder, but not impossible.

At least that was what I told myself.