When she had woken, refreshed from close to eleven hours of nightmare-free sleep, and had eaten a small bowl of fruit, she had asked him to take her back to her apartment so she could gather some clothes. Every instinct had told him to say no. His mouth had said yes.
Instincts meant nothing when it came to Erin. His heart overruled them all, forcing him to let her have her way, indulging her even when it was dangerous.
He had tried to take it back and convince her that going to her apartment was asking for trouble, especially when they had encountered Hell’s angels barely a day ago and reinforcements would be looking for them. Erin had listened to none of it. She had shot down every excuse with a sweet smile and a reminder that he was more than capable of protecting her.
While he enjoyed her faith in him and his abilities as her protector, he didn’t enjoy her rubbing his ego to manipulate him into doing what she wanted.
Neither did he enjoy the fact that it didn’t even take much of a rub to force his agreement. He was too pliant when it came to all things Erin, too eager to please.
Where was the soulless and merciless warrior now?
He had hardened his heart to females, to everyone, focusing entirely on his need for vengeance and his mission. He had vowed not to stop until he had fulfilled that mission and he was free of what felt like a curse. No woman, no man, nothing would stand between him and success or divert his attention.
Erin had softened him. He had tried to fight her, had closed himself off repeatedly, shutting down his emotions and hardening his heart once more, but whenever she was near to him, her fragrance filling his senses and making him hunger for her, he softened again.
“Veiron?” she whispered and he cast a glance across at her.
Her amber eyes were luminous, wide and full of something that looked a lot like guilt.
“Are you upset with me?”
What had given her that impression? His brooding silence, the way he trudged beside her with his gaze scanning and eyes promising bloody murder, or the fact he hadn’t looked at her since leaving Taylor’s house this afternoon?
He didn’t feel like lying to her so he nodded.
Her eyes went a little wider and then she cast them down to her feet. She jammed her hands into the pockets of her borrowed black jeans. The action made her look small and ramped up his need to protect her, to defend her against all the evil in the world around them. Veiron moved closer to her and struggled with himself. She was wearing his leather so he had no excuse that he was keeping the chill off her when he slung his arm around her shoulders. It was a purely possessive move, primal in nature, an instinct that he couldn’t ignore. His fingers closed around the cold black leather over her shoulder and he pulled her into his side.
Erin glanced up at him. “Not mad at me?”
He grunted.
She stopped, turned into him and pressed her hands against his chest, burning him through his black shirt. Her tongue swept out, teasing him as it caressed her lips, readying them for a kiss that he too willingly took. He dipped his head, dropped his hands to her backside, and raised her up his body so her sweet lips easily met his. The kiss warmed him deep into his bones, a soft reaffirmation of her desire and his, a mutual understanding and need to know everything was on an even keel between them.
Erin drew back, her smile impish and sweet, contradicting the hunger that swamped her eyes and turned them wicked, promising that she wasn’t done with him yet. She was so small in his arms, so light and willowy. He held her to him, clutching her bottom, aware that the people passing them by on the shopping street were staring.
She brushed her knuckles across his cheek, her eyes holding his, claiming his attention. He had never met a woman who could do that to him. When Erin looked into his eyes, the whole of his focus zoomed to her and he lost track of his surroundings. Anyone could have snuck up on him and stabbed him.
But no one could have snuck up on her.
Veiron felt sure of that. He was so focused on her and keeping her safe that he would sense any attempt to attack her before the enemy came within striking distance. She was his to protect.
Mine.
He thought it as he stared deep into her eyes, a feeling of connection blossoming between them again. He wanted to say the words and punctuate each one with a kiss that would brand his name on her soul.
You. Are. Mine.
Forever.
Veiron tensed at that addition.
Not forever. Just for now. He would have to leave her when they eventually found Amelia. It was for the best, no matter how much his heart ached at the thought of never seeing her again and rebelled against his better judgement. Sweet Erin. Would she ever forgive him?
Forget him?
That thought made him want to cling to her, to hold her close to him and snarl at any who tried to take her from him.
She was his.
She ran her fingertip lightly across his lower lip, sending it tingling, and stared deep into his eyes, hers full of warmth and what looked like understanding.
He wasn’t guarding himself well. Could she see the battle raging in his heart through his eyes? Leaving her warred with needing to stay.
Veiron closed his eyes and lowered her to the pavement. He withdrew his hands and took a step backwards, placing a small distance between them. When he opened his eyes, she had her back to him and he could feel a glimmer of her hurt beating in his own heart.
It had to be this way. He couldn’t keep her. Couldn’t she see that?
He raked a hand over his scarlet hair.
Couldn’t he see that?
Every fibre of him rebelled against the thought of leaving her, beating down the need and the reasons, screaming and railing against them.
Veiron closed his eyes and sighed. Fuck. He needed to get his head straight and kick his heart into line.
First, he needed to get Erin off the street and get this crazy mission of hers over with.
He grabbed her hand. He had meant to hold it in a friendly fashion, forcing her to move forwards and lead him to her apartment. Instead, he interlinked their fingers, clasping her hand tightly with her palm pressing against his. Erin’s gaze returned to him but he didn’t look at her, wouldn’t while he was still trying to get at least his head straight.
“We need to keep moving,” he said, gruff and commanding, no hint of warmth or apology.
His heart gave one to her wordlessly.
It made him squeeze her hand. A slight switch in pressure. A silent reassurance.
It spurred her into motion. She began walking again and less than ten minutes later, she stopped outside an old brick apartment building in one of the London suburbs he was less familiar with.
It seemed safe enough, but part of Veiron still didn’t like the thought that she had lived here alone.
A man left the building, pushing the brass-edged glass doors open. He smiled at Erin and held them for her. Too familiar. Veiron wanted to tear his head off. He must have let a growl slip because the man’s focus shifted to him and his smile fell away. Veiron straightened to his full height and glared down at the mortal.
He left quickly.
Veiron smiled to himself. Smug and satisfied. Both feelings faded when he looked at Erin. She stood in the centre of a low-lit foyer, a frown on her face. Unimpressed.
“Are you going to go caveman on every man in my building? I do have to live here, you know?”
No. She didn’t. She wouldn’t. At least not alone. Not without protection. His protection. He snarled, a possessive growl designed to release his fierce need to protect his female and let everyone in the building know it.
All it seemed to do was startle Erin.
And then a slow smile spread across her pretty face.
“You know, I think I like you jealous. I might flirt with the guy who owns the other loft apartment just to see you all growly again.”
Veiron glared at her, aware that his eyes were shifting, burning red, and the skin around the
m was darkening. His muscles itched, bunched, stretched and began to lengthen as his bones creaked and started to grow.
“I didn’t mean it.” Erin rushed towards him, panic in her wide eyes, her hands fluttering wildly in front of her. She settled them against his chest and he realised that he had already grown over a foot. His heart pounded, accelerated, emotions fuelling the change. “I take it back. I won’t flirt with anyone... so it’s all good, right? You can stop going all demonic. I don’t want company.”
That tossed a bucket of icy water on the fire of his emotions.
Veiron instantly shut down his hunger to unleash his temper on a man he had never even met and focused on Erin, using her as an anchor. It was hard to switch halfway through a change but he managed it, using his need to protect her and keep her safe, and not give away their location, to calm his darker side and bring it back under his control.
“Fuck,” he growled, grabbed Erin and threw one hand out in front of him.
She gasped as a blazing white portal appeared. “What about my stuff?”
“Quiet,” he snapped and leapt into the portal. He appeared a few hundred yards up the street with her, landing hard in a narrow alley. Another shimmering wall appeared before his outstretched hand.
He didn’t go through this one. He lowered Erin to the pavement, seized her hand and turned with her, walking back to the main street. He jogged along it and when she limped, he remembered that her feet were still sore. Einar had healed the injuries given to her by the Hell’s angel but Veiron had neglected to mention the cuts on the soles of her feet, something he would rectify when they returned to the safe house.
Veiron scooped her up into his arms, carrying her nestled safely against his chest, and didn’t slow until he was back at her building.
“Now the door is locked and I don’t have a key.” Her matter-of-fact tone didn’t sit well with him.
The enemy couldn’t tell the time at which he used his powers. They just sensed it happening and it was usually a delayed feeling. He waved his fingers towards the door and it opened. They wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from the other times he had used his powers in the area.
Veiron carried Erin across the false marble floor to the lifts and pressed the button to call one. When it came and the brass doors had opened, Veiron stalked inside and set Erin down. She pressed the button for the top floor.
Could he risk using his powers to open the door to her apartment when they reached it?
He pondered that as the lift rose, carrying them high into the building. It stopped and the doors pinged and slid open.
Erin exited ahead of him. Veiron growled, a warning shot across her bow, and pulled her back to him. He held her close, clutching her arm, and prowled forwards, gaze scanning and senses on high alert. She didn’t protest. Her free hand wrapped around his arm and she held it, her body pressed against its length. He liked the feel of her there, close to him, needing him. He liked it a little too much if he was feeling honest with himself.
“Wait,” she said and he stopped halfway along the stark white corridor. She turned towards a door. Hers? She knocked. Not hers. If she was planning on going through with her threat to flirt with the other occupant of this floor, he was going to be more than angry.
The door opened and a smartly dressed man stood in the doorway, his sandy hair slicked back as though he had just had a shower. The deep blue shirt and dark charcoal trousers did nothing to conceal his physique.
Veiron barely held his growl inside when the mortal’s blue eyes settled on Erin and he smiled.
“Good Lord above, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” The man pulled her into a quick hug that set Veiron’s blood on fire. “Allan will be so relieved. He’s been fretting. We thought something had happened to you.”
Erin shrugged. “I’ve just been busy with work and haven’t been out much other than to stay with my boyfriend.”
The mortal male’s blue eyes shot to him. His smile was nothing short of flirtatious.
Veiron stiffened.
“Well, hello handsome.”
Veiron took a step backwards and the man chuckled, his attention returning to Erin. “I take it he isn’t into same sex partners?”
Erin shook her head and looped her arm around Veiron’s. He was still trying to catch up. This was the man who Erin had said she would flirt with to make him jealous? A man who had a partner called Allan and who was looking at him as though he was a wet dream come true?
“He’s one hundred percent straight and one hundred percent mine,” Erin said on a smile and Veiron’s gaze shot to her, his blood burning for a different reason now.
Mine.
You. Are. Mine.
He wanted to growl it and kiss her, to reach right down to her soul and shake her to her core so she knew it. She belonged to him now.
And forever.
“I didn’t call by to show off my new toy though. I forgot my keys at his house and need to get into my flat. Can I have my spares?” Erin stroked his arm and Veiron couldn’t take his eyes off her, or his mind off that one word as it hammered inside his skull and beat in his blood.
Mine.
She had said it too. Did she feel the same way as he did? Did her blood heat in her veins whenever their eyes met and her heart pound whenever they touched? When they had made love last night, had she felt connected all the way down to her soul, as though they were made for each other?
The man disappeared, shifting to the periphery of Veiron’s senses. He jingled as he returned and held out a set of keys to Erin.
She took them with a smile, said something Veiron didn’t hear, and took her leave. Veiron followed her, hazy and lost in his thoughts, trying to decipher whether Erin had experienced the same depth of feelings as he had in her arms.
Had she meant what she’d said or had it just been an act?
He needed to know.
She unlocked a plain white door and pushed it open. Veiron caught her arm when she went to walk straight in, pulled her back in line with him and turned her to face him.
“Wait here,” he said and stalked into the apartment. It was spacious and open plan for the most part. There was a wall on the right of the huge white room, dividing what he discovered was the bedroom. Massive windows to his left let the fading evening light flood into the equally white room. The only colours were the rich purple covers on the double bed in the middle of the room and a wall of lilac glass blocks to his right that separated the bathroom from the bedroom.
Veiron turned on his heel and backtracked into the main room of the loft apartment. The ceiling was open and industrial, all silver pipes and dark concrete, and a contrast to the pale wooden floor and the crisp white walls. A bright red sofa stood in front of a large flat screen television screwed to the wall of the apartment nearest the door. At a right angle to it was a black chaise longue scattered with paper and books. A glass coffee table equally swamped with books filled the space between them.
He cast a quick glance at the open kitchen. The cupboards lining the wall and floor were a shocking shade of pink that matched the island that formed a barrier between the kitchen and living room. That was the only startling thing in the apartment. He had never figured Erin as a Barbie pink sort of woman.
No one was here.
He nodded to Erin.
She entered and closed the door behind her. A flicker of nerves shone in her eyes, a potent reminder that the last time she had been here, one of his kind had come and dragged her down to Hell.
Veiron felt sorry for her as she moved around the apartment, cautious, alert, and afraid. This place was clearly her home but she obviously no longer felt that way. What had happened had left her feeling wary of the place, scared that something bad would happen to her again.
“I’ll just get some things together and we can go,” she said and hurried into her bedroom.
Veiron occupied himself by looking around her apartment. The sun had set beyond the bank of windows along one wall of
the expansive room. He strode over to them and looked out at the hotchpotch rooftops, and then at his surroundings. It was a beautiful apartment, modern and clean. He was surprised when his gaze fell on an area close to the windows. A large monitor took up most of the space on the white desk against the wall that closed off the bedroom. It was almost as big as the television. Other equipment filled the rest of the desk. Some large black flat thing with something that looked like a pen resting on it. A wire attached it to the computer tower beside the monitor.
What really took Veiron’s breath away was the stack of canvases leaning against the wall next to the desk. He picked one up and couldn’t stop there. Each one was more beautiful than the last, scenes of incredible alien lands and enchanting forests and mountains. The colours in them vibrated, bursting with life. In the corner of each, small neat letters formed Erin’s name. These were her paintings. There were no art materials in the room though. Had she painted them elsewhere? He looked closer at the canvases and realised they were printed. His gaze slid to the wide black thing on the desk and the pen. Had Erin drawn these on her computer?
He had never seen such vivid imagery captured by the human hand before. It looked so real, as though he could step into each painting and find himself in that world born of her imagination.
“Veiron, I just want to—” She stopped dead in the doorway of her bedroom. “What are you doing?”
He frowned when she hurried over and tried to take the canvas from his grip. Her cheeks blazed red. Was she angry?
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just saw them and I couldn’t help taking a closer look.”
“I’m not upset, really... they’re silly... just... give it to me please?”
Not angry. Embarrassed. Why? They were amazing.
“They’re beautiful, Erin. Did you do all of these?”
Her cheeks burned a deeper shade and she averted her eyes. The smallest nod in the world was her answer. An artist who couldn’t take compliments. Or perhaps it was because he was the one complimenting her that she blushed so deeply.
He smiled to alleviate her nerves. “If I had an apartment like this, I would want art like yours on my walls. They really are beautiful. You’re very talented.”
Her Demonic Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 5) Page 15