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hardwood floor for a moment, a faint gleam in his eye. His hand blurred as he raised it over his head, then plunged it into the floor.
    The oak planks shattered at his touch, but his hand splashed back, burning with more of the blue sparks. “Damn."
    "It isn't that easy to escape your fate,” Sara told him. “I'm resolved to bear up to mine. Maybe you should do the same."
    "Don't get philosophical on me. Just let me go."
    "I've heard that demons make great lovers. Why don't you show me."
    Jack shook his head. Could his sapphire-blue eyes actually hold regret? “Demons do not make good lovers."
    "How come?” With a body like his and the male equipment barely hidden under his leather pants, Jack would turn female heads in a convent.
    "We make lousy lovers because we hurt our partners. Not just emotionally. Physically."
    A little physical pain went a long way for Sara. “Are you just saying that?"
    "I told you I couldn't lie."
    "But why?"
    "We lose control.” He cast his eyes around the room, searching for something. Finally he spotted a quartz crystal she had picked up during a visit to Arkansas. “Is that rock important to you?"
    "Not particularly."
    "May I have it?"
    She picked it up and started to hand it to him, then stopped. “You want me to reach inside the wards, don't you?"
    "Let's just say I have mixed feelings."
    She tossed him the crystal. It passed through the glowing ward without slowing.
    Jack caught the stone, stared at it, then squeezed his hand together.
    Powdered crystal sifted through his fingers, the dust sprinkling onto the floor.
    "That was not difficult,” he explained. “Imagine what would happen to your body if I lost control, even for a moment. Do you dare trust me to stay in control of myself?"
    "Hum?” Sara stared at the small mound of sand on the floor of Jack's star-shaped cage. Even if she wasn't looking for forever, could a demon who couldn't be sexual without ripping her to shreds really be her perfect mate? But was Jack right about his control? Could he be exaggerating the danger?
    "I'm not exaggerating,” he told her.
    She started, then glared at him. She'd have to get used to the mind-reading thing.
    "I have a low tolerance for emotion,” he continued. “I get drunk on it."
    Sara wanted to run but the smallest sag in Jack's shoulders stopped her. He looked like he hated this part of himself as much as she did. She wracked her brain, hoping for a storm. “Maybe you need to build up your resistance. How long has it been between lovers?"
    "Hundreds of years,” Jack admitted. “I didn't like the cleanup afterwards. Even if you're right though, how many women would you want to sacrifice until I have built up enough resistance to control my urges? Do you have any friends you want to volunteer?"
    The wards glowed a brighter, paler blue as he leaned toward her. His eyes pierced into her soul, daring her to answer the question he must be thinking was as difficult as the riddle of the sphinx.
    "Hum?” The seeds of a terribly enticing idea started percolating through Sara's brain. “Perhaps you need assistance in keeping your control."
    "I'm not—” Jack broke off when he caught her eyes. “No. That's impossible."
    "It really isn't that different from where you are now."
    "Tying me down to your bed and having your way with my body is a very bad idea."
* * * *
    The wards pinned Jack's arms and legs to the four corners of the bed, their strength holding the bed together, preventing him from using his strength to simply rip the iron headboard into scrap metal.
    "Are you comfortable?” Sara's voice was soft and throaty.
    "Demons are never comfortable."
    She reached into a bowl and removed a large chunk of ice. “I thought you might want to cool down."
    The fires that burned him came from inside rather than without, but he didn't protest when she brought the fist-sized ice crystal to his chest.
    "I'm a little afraid of what we're doing,” Sara confessed.
    He read her, learning that