by Lisa Kessler
Gabe shrugged. “But you’re not. You’re a survivor, and you’ll get through this too.”
“How does it work when he turns them into demons?”
He stared at her for a second. Probably trying to gauge just how freaked out she would be. Finally he replied, keeping his voice down. “Hingo demons reproduce by ingesting the flesh of females and then regurgitating it back into the wounds.” He paused. “Her body becomes a cocoon of sorts. They bury the female for a few hours and the new Hingo demon digs its way free.”
She shivered in spite of the warm sun on her skin. “We need to stop him.”
His rough voice was heavy with conviction. “We will.”
Tegan turned toward him, the wind pulling at her hair. “That demon in my parking lot. He said his master was looking for me. You were right—it is me he wants…”
Gabe watched the waves and then stared at his hands.
“Damn it.” Her fingers tingled, her lungs constricting. Tegan closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe, slow and steady.
“You okay?”
She shrugged without opening her eyes. “I forget what okay feels like. Just give me a second to shake this off.”
His large hand rested on her back, and for a moment she tensed, ready to bolt. Slowly his touch moved up a couple of inches and then back down, and gradually she realized she found it almost soothing.
Once the anxiety dissipated, she sat up watching the waves. “Sorry about that. The anxiety attacks still dog me when things start feeling out of my control.”
“Nothing to apologize for.”
“The day we met, when you took me to get a burger.” Her gaze met his. “Now I get what you were saying about taking the time to watch a sunset. If I accept these demons are real, that the one who attacked me is still out there, who knows which sunset could be my last?” Her voice drifted off as she swallowed her emotions and turned to watch the waves. “I’m going to my parents’ tonight.” She let out a humorless chuckle. “Might not get another birthday with them.”
He took her hand in his, and the awareness of him reassured her, calming some of the panic that welled in her chest. “I never said that. We’re going to find this thing and kick its ass all the way back to hell.” His voice softened. “But there’s strength in family. You’re going to need all you can get.”
She glanced over at him. “You sound pretty confident.”
His gaze connected with hers again. “If you lose hope, it’s too easy for fear to settle in.”
Her mouth tugged at the corner as she nodded. “That’s pretty Zen for a guy who killed a demon in my parking lot this morning.”
His smile warmed her all over until her toes curled in her shoes.
“I’m full of surprises.” He glanced down at his jeans, stained with green demon blood. “I’m also in need of a clean pair of pants.”
“There’s a mall not far from here.” Tegan stood up, grateful that her legs were stable again. “But you’re still not coming with me tonight.”
…
Gabe wandered through the H&M men’s section in search of new jeans. No sense spending more money than he had to on clothes. Most of them were ruined within a couple weeks anyway.
Tegan had barely spoken on the drive to the Forum Carlsbad shops other than to complain about not having her car. It was probably for the best, but he had to fight to keep from trying to get her to smile. Seeing her unhappy chafed him.
I shouldn’t give a shit.
But apparently he did.
He grabbed a pair of blue and a pair of black jeans. “How dressy is this party?”
“You’re not coming.” She kept scanning the men’s shirts.
“Well if I were going with you, would either of these be all right?” He held up both pairs.
She shrugged, but he thought she might be holding back a smile. This woman left him hungry for more. “The black ones would be all right, if you were going.”
He tucked the jeans under his arm and made his way to the table of shirts. He stood behind her, trying not to notice the spicy sandalwood scent of her hair. The temptation to get closer ate at him. Memories of seeing his past girlfriend’s eviscerated body outweighed the temptation, though, and he kept his distance.
“Think I should wear one of those button-downs?” Before she could correct him, he added, “If I were going with you.”
She lifted a dark brick-red shirt from the rack and held it up to his chest, her fingers so close to his neck he could feel the warmth of her skin. Electricity zipped through him, but neither of them closed the distance to touch.
“This one would look great on you.” She hung it back on the rack. “Too bad you won’t be going.”
He reached over to grab the shirt, his hand covering hers on the hanger. The touch jolted him. “Why don’t I get it just in case?”
She slipped her hand out from under his and shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He watched her hips sway as she walked away. She didn’t swing them like most of the beach chicks he hooked up with. Those women were a distraction, a way to scratch an itch. Tegan was more his type. Not that he had a type, not anymore.
She walked with purpose and strength, inherently feminine, but she buried it, tempting him to entice it out of her. Seeing her in nothing but a towel today multiplied the unwelcome attraction. Her soft skin begged to be touched. Thinking about it shot heat to his groin.
Not helping. Gabe ground his teeth, pulled out his wallet, and made his purchases.
Bag in hand, he convinced Tegan to have lunch with him. She surprised him by choosing Buca di Beppo. He didn’t take her for the loud, crowded restaurant kind of woman. Seated in their booth, with a pizza and linguine on order, he poured her a glass of wine from the carafe while an old recording of Frank Sinatra serenaded them in the background.
“You come here often?” He glanced over at an alcove dedicated to the pope, complete with pictures and a bust of the holy man in the corner.
“Nope.” She swirled the wine in her glass. “Just thought it might be loud enough to cover the awkward silence.”
He took a swallow of his beer. “Are you telling me you want me to shut up?”
“I’m telling you it’s been four years since I’ve been out to a meal with a guy I’m not related to. It’s going to be awkward.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
The waiter stopped by with their food and Tegan shot him a relieved smile.
Once they both had plates full of Italian food, Gabe caught her eyes. “Ask me something.”
She pondered for a moment, swallowing her pasta. “Okay, when did you find out you were a slayer?”
The chunk of pizza he swallowed turned into a garlic-dipped rock in his stomach. “When I turned eighteen. Next question.”
“That’s it?” She tore off a piece of garlic bread. “Did you just get a notice in the mail?”
“I came home and found my parents’ bodies torn apart and ‘slayer’ written in blood on the wall.” He chugged the rest of his beer, wishing it were whiskey. He needed something to numb the emotions brewing. The mug thunked against the table, and he noticed that her smile was gone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Tegan shifted in her seat, her gaze falling to the food in front of her. “I thought I was going to die the night he attacked me. It was my birthday.”
He wasn’t sure why she finally decided to open up about her attack. He had bared a scar; maybe this was her way of evening the score. Seeing the distant look in her eyes, he kept quiet and waited for her to go on. Frank Sinatra kept crooning about witchcraft, shielding their conversation from the sparse lunch crowd seated randomly throughout the restaurant.
Her lashes fluttered, and her gaze lifted and locked on his. “I met him in a club. I was out celebrating, dancing with a group of girls from college. He seemed polite, not grab-assing any of us on the dance floor.” She reached for her wine and knocked it back. When she set her glass on the table her
hands trembled. “He said he wanted to talk. It was too loud in the club so we went outside.” She gnawed at her lower lip, turning her attention to the table. “He dragged me down the alley behind the club chanting something, and his eyes…”
Gabe poured her another glass of wine. Tegan took a sip and shook her head. “You probably need to know more, but I’m not ready. It’s too…”
“Yeah, I get it.” Gabe sat across from her seething with rage, and he took a swig of his beer, trying to cover the emotion. “This isn’t really the right venue for secret-sharing anyway.”
When he found the Hingo demon who did this to her he was going to enjoy killing him. He’d witnessed firsthand that the woman across from him was tough, a warrior, but that demon had left her shaken, her eyes veiled in fear. He’d make sure he died a slow, painful death.
“Let’s talk about something else.” The H&M bag sat on the seat next to him, and he grinned. “Like what time we’re supposed to be at the party.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
He shook his head, relieved to see color return to her cheeks again. “Never.”
She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “If I agree to this—and that’s a huge if—then we need some ground rules.”
He rested his forearms on the edge of the table, leaning toward her. “Go for it.”
“First,” she said, holding up a finger with a rebellious sparkle to her eyes. This was the warrior he was growing too fond of. “If my mom asks how we met, I’m your karate instructor. My mom still lacks faith in my business, so if nothing else, she’ll realize I do have real students. She doesn’t need to know most of them are under ten years old.”
He nodded. “You got it.”
“Two: my mother will connect the dots herself, so we don’t need to outright lie to her or shock her with a public display of affection, okay? If she jumps to the wrong conclusion that we’re dating, then it’s her problem.”
“And no mentioning I’m a PI and currently under your employ, I gather?”
“Exactly.” She took a bite of pizza.
“So I guess calling you ‘pumpkin’ is out of the question?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Definitely!” She shook her head. “In fact, even after the party, you never get to call me ‘pumpkin.’”
“Deal.” He offered his hand across the table to shake on it, but she hesitated. When she finally did take his hand, her gaze met his. For the first time since he met this woman, he noticed a hint of trust in her eyes.
“Thanks for letting me come with you.”
She set her fork down. “Just doing your job, right?”
She slid out of the booth, leaving him behind, wishing it could be more.
Chapter Five
To say Gabe cleaned up nice would be a huge understatement. Tegan came out of her bathroom to find him wearing his new black jeans—which fit him just right in all the right places—with a tight black T-shirt. He reached for the brick-red button-down, every muscle in his arm tense, making it tough to pry her gaze off of him.
He noticed her, then, hopefully having missed the gawking, and smiled. “You look beautiful.”
Heat flushed her cheeks. Tegan looked down at her halter dress, hoping to hide the blush. She’d never worn this one. She usually wore pants or shorts. In her line of work she didn’t usually have an occasion for anything fancier, but the moment she tried on this dress, she had to buy it. The deep teal color complemented her skin, and the wide tie that wrapped behind her neck covered her scar perfectly. She even put on a little mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss.
“Thank you.” She allowed herself to peer over at him again.
Gabe slipped the dress shirt over the tee and rolled the sleeves partway up his forearms. “What do you think, buttoned or unbuttoned?”
She imagined sliding her hands up his torso, feeling his muscles respond through the T-shirt and blurted out. “Unbuttoned.” She cleared her throat, reining in the attraction a notch, and shrugged. “But whatever you want is fine.”
He flashed her a knee-weakening smile. “Unbuttoned it is.”
He reached for his coat, and she raised a brow. “You’re bringing your coat and weapons to my parents’ house?”
“You’re what that demon is looking for. I’m not going anywhere unprepared.”
She sighed. She never imagined she’d be chatting about carrying concealed weapons to visit her folks for a birthday party. She didn’t like it, but he was right. She nodded tightly.
He started for the door and glanced back at her. “You ready?”
She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for facing her mom with a handsome man in tow. She had a very bad feeling about this….
“I guess so.” She stepped into her black flats and grabbed her purse. “I wish I had my car.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.”
“Have you even checked on it with…what’s her name?” She passed him by, careful not to allow any physical contact, and went down the stairs to the dojo.
“Martie.” He followed her downstairs. “I can call her and check on your car if that’ll make you feel better.” He pulled out his cell phone and exited the dojo.
Tegan set the alarm system and locked the building, trying not to admit she wanted to eavesdrop. It was 7:00 p.m. on a Saturday night, and he was calling his “employee” on his cell phone?
Tegan approached as he was finishing up the call.
“Thanks, Mart. See you soon, hon. Be careful.”
Hon. He hung up, and Tegan mentally slapped herself. They were probably dating. That would explain why she was available on a Saturday night. Why hadn’t she realized it sooner? Now it seemed even more foolish to take him to meet her mother. Ugh.
She replayed her one meeting with Gabe’s receptionist in her head. Martie was everything Tegan wasn’t. Martie’s hair was short and stylish while Tegan’s was usually tied back in a ponytail. His receptionist had perfect manicured nails and perfect makeup, and even though Tegan hadn’t been able to see her feet, she had no doubt Martie also wore super cute shoes. Tegan stared at her simple black flats and sighed. She used to wear cute shoes, but that was before her life became devoted to self-preservation.
She couldn’t kick the crap out of an attacker and run like hell in some strappy Betsey Johnson heels. And it made no sense to wear a bunch of makeup when she’d end up sweating it off in the dojo keeping her body in ass-kicking shape.
Not that she cared. It wasn’t as if she was available anyway. She was married to her business and keeping it afloat. Besides, trust wasn’t her strong suit. Maybe after they caught her attacker she’d be able to move on with her life.
She’d never had the desire until now.
Apparently, a sexy guy in a towel had that effect on her.
Shoving the memory of a mostly naked Gabe out of her mind, she walked over to his car. He straightened up from where he had been leaning against the chrome front fender and went to open her door.
“Your car is parked in a long-term parking lot, safe and sound.”
Tegan made no move to get in the car. “She did not hot-wire my car.”
“No.” Gabe tried to look shocked by her accusation, but she could see the corners of his eyes crinkle as a smile threatened. “I might do something like that, but Martie thinks things through more than I do.”
Of course she did. Gabe wouldn’t date a stupid woman. Tegan sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay, I give. What’d she do with my car?”
“She called a towing company we’ve worked with before and asked them to move it for her. A favor.” He gestured to the passenger seat. “Satisfied? Can we go?”
“Guess so.” Tegan got in, trying not to let her inner pout spread to her face. “Thanks.”
…
Other than telling him when to make a turn, Tegan had gone mute. Was she just nervous about taking him with her to her parents’ party or worried about the weapons hidden inside his jacket
? Or maybe she was having flashbacks of the demon who still hunted her? The damn demon.
Being near her made it too easy for him to forget his job. The moment she’d come out of the bathroom in her dress, all thoughts of demons and monsters had vanished. Her bare shoulders had teased him. He’d wanted to feel her skin.
He’d wanted more than that.
And when she had stared at him, he’d caught the way she blushed. He could’ve sworn she wanted him too.
But now he was getting the silent treatment.
He pulled into a Vons grocery store parking lot, and Silent Beauty finally spoke.
“What are you doing? Why are we stopping?”
Gabe pulled the keys from the ignition and turned toward her. For a split second, deep in her eyes, he saw the panic and fear of someone who knew what it was like to be attacked by someone they thought they knew. Without thinking, he reached out to cup her cheek. The moment he touched her, lightning burned through his veins. Her skin was softer than he could ever have imagined. How soft would her lips be?
She started to turn her head and accept the comfort he offered before suddenly rocking back in her seat, away from his touch. “I’m not going to be able to do this.”
He lowered his hand in a cloud of confusion. “Do what?”
“Take you to meet my parents. They’ll know something is up.” Her eyes glistened in the dome light. “Besides, Martie probably wouldn’t be comfortable with it anyway.”
“Martie?” Did she hit him in the head with a bat? He could almost see stars with the way his head was spinning. “What does Martie have to do with any of this?”
Her brow furrowed. “She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
“What?” He would’ve laughed if he was sure she wouldn’t bolt from the car. “Martie has a girlfriend. She’d probably laugh her ass off that you thought we were an item, though. She’d be the first to tell you she can do much better than me.”
A crease marred her brow. “When you talked to her on your cell phone on a Saturday night and called her ‘hon,’ I just figured you…”
“Nope.” He shook his head, steadying his mental footing on the quicksand Tegan seemed to surround him with. “She was my first paying client five years ago. A demon was blackmailing her to keep living in her basement. Once I helped him get the hell out, she came to work for me. We keep crazy hours, but it’s just work. Nothing romantic.”