“Yes. Put your charm away. I’ve got to refill you. You drained the rest of your remaining energy in your foolish attempt at fighting me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but she was too tired for an argument. “How do you refill me?”

He crossed to her, holding out his hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her up. As she stood, dizziness fogged her mind, and he slipped an arm around her back to steady her. “I will imbue you with Emerazel’s fire.”

She was suddenly acutely aware of his bare skin and the heat radiating from his body. She looked down at the slow rise and fall of his chest, drinking in his delicious, earthy smell. Oh, God. I don’t have the hots for this guy, do I? “Will that be painful?”

“No.” His gaze slid down to her shoulder. “I’m just going to put my hand on your scar. My heat will flow into you.”

“Okay.” She couldn’t take her eyes off his stunning face. No wonder he’s full of himself.

Kester pulled down the strap of her gown, then her pink bra strap. The cool cabin air tickled her skin. He pressed his palm flat against her shoulder. He closed his eyes, chanting in his strange language. A glorious, tingling heat pulsed from his fingertips over her skin, caressing her neck. The heat moved slowly, whispering around her throat, slipping lower over her breasts before pulsing down her abdomen. Was it her imagination, or was his thumb moving slowly up and down on her lower back, lazily stroking her skin through her silk dress? A hot, euphoric thrill seeped into her body, blazing through her core, and she fought the urge to press herself against his strong body. Molten power ignited her veins, and she felt a smile curl her lips. I’m back.

Kester opened his eyes, gazing down at her. “Better?” His thumb still languidly stroked her lower back, and she could feel herself arching into him.

Her eyes lingered on his perfect lips, and for just a moment, she considered kissing him—before she reminded herself that a) he was an entitled wanker most of the time, b) Zee’s unconscious body lay just a few feet away, and c) his nickname was “the Headsman.” Probably not a good idea to kiss someone named for an executioner.

She rolled her neck. “I feel amazing. I’m ready to find this incubus.”

Chapter 27

Kester crossed his room, pulling open a drawer in a small, wooden dresser. He took out a black sweater, slipped it over his chiseled torso. “There’s a little problem with our plan.”

“What?”

“I have no idea where to find Abrax. He’s an ancient and powerful incubus. He dwells in Nyxobas’s Manhattan lair, and I have no idea—”

“I know where he was going.”

Pulling on a pair of grey trousers, he shot her a sharp look. “He told you?”