Free Seduced by Crimson by Jade Lee Page A

just because of this."
    It took her a moment to understand. Her tattoo was so much a part of her that she'd forgotten it was there. She'd had it her whole life. She was no more conscious of it than she was her hand or leg. But normal people didn't have a large Chinese phoenix tattooed on their chests dripping tears down their arms. That tattoo marked her as a Phoenix Tear. It proclaimed to the world exactly what she was.
    "That's how we found you, you know," Patrick said, still tracing the elegant bird's outline. "It was listed on your adoption papers."
    Her sealed adoption papers. Patrick's mother must have been quite the hacker to find that.
    "You had no right—," she began, but he cut her off with his touch. He was stroking the phoenix tattoo. He caressed the bird's head, right at the ball of her shoulder. The beak curled toward her armpit so that the dripping trail of phoenix tears slid one by one down her brachial artery. Each tear perfectly outlined her best bleeding spots.
    But he didn't move his hand down her arm. Instead, his fingertips danced over the bird's head and across its shimmering neck and back. The line traced the dip and curve of her collarbone, and to those who knew, each tattooed feather circled more dangerous incision points along her neck. But Patrick didn't stop with those either.
    Instead, he stretched out his fingers to touch more and more of the phoenix's body, the tail feathers blossoming and curling around her breast. Objectively speaking, the art was incredible. The monks had taken a great deal of joy in their work. Apparently, Patrick did too. He stroked the red feathers and brought her nipple to a tight, hungry peak.
    She hated that she responded to him, but how could she not? His touch was gentle. Reverent even. But…
    "I'm not your thing!" she snapped, contorting away from his hand. "I'm not a tool or a sacred vessel or any damn religious artifact. I'm just a girl, Patrick. One who doesn't go for bondage."
    His hand froze a scant millimeter above her breast. Her traitorous body ached for its return. She had to force herself to breathe normally and not inhale deeply just so her breast would graze him again.
    "Have I touched a nerve?" he asked.
    She glared at him. "You were touching a whole fat lot of them. Damn it, Patrick, I'm done with this game. If you have to boink some girl, then go get some druid chick. I'm not playing." He straightened, his hand dropping into his lap. Once again, her body betrayed her. She felt disappointment at his withdrawal.
    "It has to be you, Xiao Fei." Then he huffed out a breath. "Come on, this can't be a surprise to you. You must have participated in the Cambodian gate closing we read about. How else did you get that tattoo?"
    She swallowed, the low burning in her gut spreading heat into her body. "It didn't work," she ground out. "They all died."
    "It did work," he argued softly. "The gate closed."
    "But they all died!"
    He nodded, his green eyes inexpressibly sad. Then: "Not all of them. You survived."
    "I was small, and quiet—and damn lucky. The… They thought I was dead. And they got disoriented when the gate closed. That's why they overlooked me."
    "The demons?" he asked.
    She nodded.
    "They killed the others, and yet the gate still closed."
    She nodded. There was nothing to say.
    "But we aren't going to do it that way. This way, you'll be safe."
    She blinked. It took a moment for his words to penetrate her thoughts, but when they did, she rolled her eyes in disgust. "The whole druidic sex thing?" she mocked.
    "Yeah. The whole druidic sex thing."
    "You're delusional. You know that, don't you?"
    He shrugged. "Maybe." It wasn't the most reassuring statement she'd ever heard. "But I'll make you a deal," he went on. "I'll know if it's working or not. I'll feel…" He shook his head. "I can't describe it, but trust me. I'll know."
    "Oh, right," she drawled. "And do I get to see your etchings, too?"
    His lips curved in a smile. "No etchings. But if it's not