She pulled away from him, and he let her go, an act which both relieved her and disappointed her. As much as she needed her independence, her yearning for intimacy with him was almost insurmountable. Forcing herself to walk away, she led the way out of the bar, but he stayed close, only a few inches behind her. The one time she glanced back, she caught him glowering at the other patrons, his “don’t-fuck-with-me” stare clearly staking his claim on her.
“You don’t own me,” she hissed at him, embarrassed by his caveman persona…but at the same time, there was a part of her that was thrilled by it. She was so used to skulking about, trying to stay unnoticed, that it felt good to have someone so powerful on her side, making it safe for her to be noticed.
“No, I don’t,” he agreed as they reached the exit. “But I accepted responsibility for your safety, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure people know that if they approach you for any reason, it’s me that they’ll have to deal with.” He held the door open. “I don’t own you, but I own your safety, so you’re going to have to deal with it. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her heart skipped a beat, but she gave him a steady gaze. “You’re not going anywhere…until it suits your purposes. And then you will.”
He met her gaze for a long minute, so long that a flicker of hope rushed through her. Maybe he wouldn’t leave… Then, to her dismay, he nodded once. “Until then.”
“You still might kill me?”
His gaze flicked away from her for a brief second, scanning the streets outside, then he nodded for her to leave. “I don’t make promises unless I know I can keep them, Anya.”
“I know.” Feeling strangely deflated, she moved ahead of him to walk down the empty street. It didn’t matter how amazing his kisses were, or how powerful he made her feel by protecting her. She could never forget that he was on her side only because someone had trapped him into protecting her. If he found a way out, she was dead, and he was gone.
She couldn’t forget that.
Ever.
Slade shifted gears in his Lamborghini, pissed off as hell.
Usually, the chance to drive this baby gave him a sense of peace. He liked the luxury of it, a vast change from sleeping in alleys and jungles like he did on missions. He was damn proud of it, and he liked the way he could feel every single bump in the asphalt, a machine of raw power and pure luxury. It made him feel civilized, like there was a chance that he wasn’t only a monster. It was his moment of humanity.
This time, however, he couldn’t concentrate on the car. His entire focus was on the woman sleeping in the passenger seat next to him. He could hear every breath she took. Her scent seemed to wrap around him, overwhelming the fine leather smell of his seats. She was small and fragile, vulnerable even, and his entire body vibrated with awareness. He didn’t let anyone into his personal space, but for some damn reason, he’d invited her into his car. What the hell? He could have rented a car. He could have used one of his throwaways. But he’d selected this one and offered her a ride, which went against every rule he had.
No one ever got to see anything about him that was real. It was critical to his survival. So, why the hell was she there? Sleeping, like she was supposed to be there.
She mumbled something in her sleep, and he looked over at her. Her brow was furrowed, and she was shifting restlessly. Instantly, his irritation vanished. He brushed one hand over her forehead, soothing her energy. She relaxed under his touch, falling into a deeper sleep again. Satisfaction pulsed through him. He’d given her peace, not just peace before a death kiss, but actual peace.
It felt good. Really good. He wasn’t used to doing shit like that. He hadn’t done it on purpose. It had been instinct, something she’d drawn out of him, even though he hadn’t even known it was a part of him.
Frowning, he glanced at her again, inspecting her more carefully, trying to figure out his reaction to her. He liked having her beside him, sleeping. Last time, when she’d slept in his safe house, he’d felt like shit, because his kiss had drained her to the point of exhaustion. She’d slept because he’d hurt her.
This time, she’d slept simply because she was tired, and because she felt safe enough with him to sleep. He, the shadow whose only purpose was to kill, had provided her with enough security to allow her to sleep. He knew it, because he’d picked it up from her as she was falling asleep. She was shielding her thoughts less and less from him, and her emotions when she’d gotten in his car had been evident.
The moment she’d sank into the soft leather, she hadn’t been thinking about how nice his car was. She’d been thinking about how good it felt to sit down. She’d been thinking about how tired she was. And she’d been thinking about how she had to remember not to trust him, even though she’d never felt this safe in her life.
She’d never felt this safe in her life.
It was strange that she felt that way about him. It irritated him, because he wanted her to be smarter and more careful than that, but at the same time, it made him feel like he was worth something more than delivering death.
She’d fallen asleep five minutes after they’d gotten on the highway, and he liked it. He loved looking over at her and seeing her beside him. It was probably wrong in a thousand ways that he felt that way, but he did. Hell, she could drool all over his fine leather seat, and he wouldn’t even care.
Which was why he’d been in such a bad mood. He lived by a careful, rigid set of rules, and she was making him break them one after another. It made him vulnerable, and he couldn’t afford that…but at the same time…he didn’t regret any of it.
Which was even more disturbing.
He hit the gas, inching the needle up even higher, muttering a litany of swears that usually made him feel better. They didn’t work tonight, because he was beginning to realize why he’d invited her into his car, and why he liked having her sleeping next to him.
Her irreverence, her determination to make him see her as a person, her loyalty to her friend, and her vulnerability had gotten under his skin.
He liked her. He liked her as a person. As a human being. As a woman. Which was a major problem.
Since the day he and his dad had found his mom and sister murdered, he’d learned how important it was not to let anyone matter to him. Not just because it hurt like hell when something happened to them, but because if they mattered to him, it made them a target. His dad had made a lot of enemies in his work, and it was those enemies who had decided to make him pay by taking away something he loved.
The instant that Anya had given him that first stare in the bar, the one where she’d looked right into his soul, he’d noticed her as a woman. In that instant, she had become a weapon that his enemies could use against him. She had become a target. And now, after he’d tasted her? Talked to her? Listened to her stories? Every minute he spent with her upped the ante.
Shit. Letting her get into his car had put a bulls-eye on her forehead. Her scent would be in his car, and it would never leave. He’d smell it every time he got in his car, and so would anyone else who came near it, anyone in his line of business, that was.
What the hell? What personal code was he going to violate next? Was he going to start visiting his brother for a beer on Fridays? Might as well paint a target on his head as well.
The thought of his brother becoming linked to him made a cold sweat break out on his forehead. For a brief moment, he couldn’t focus. All he could think of was a bullet finding his brother between the eyes, or a claw plunging into his heart, all because someone had found out he was related to the Black Swan. Swearing, Slade fought to bring his mind back under control, shoving aside the fear that haunted him every second of his life, that somehow, some way, he’d screwed up and his enemies would realize he had a brother who had been raised with humans, had no preternatural powers, and no defenses against anyone wanting to cause him harm.
His brother was a heart surgeon, a genius who spent all his time in people’s chests saving them with his skill
, as opposed to Slade, who spent his time in people’s heads, killing them with his thoughts and his kiss. Even if being related to Slade wouldn’t make his brother a target, it didn’t matter. Slade would still never let his brother know that the anonymous funds that had supported him all his life was blood money from a brother he wouldn’t want to know.
Slade tightened his grip on the steering wheel, swearing as he tried to get his thoughts under control, to get back to the equilibrium that enabled him to live his life. He took a deep breath, steadying the balance of oxygen in his body as he forced himself to analyze the situation.
There was no doubt that Anya had knocked him off his game. The only logical solution was to cut her loose. Easy. Clean. Simple.
He couldn’t walk away from her, because then he’d die, and he’d leave shit undone that couldn’t be left undone. Plus, he didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to kill her, let anyone else hurt her, or even let her go.
Oh, hell. This was bad. Really bad. He couldn’t let her go, but every second with her was making him want her more. He liked the attitude she gave him. He liked how she didn’t hide the fact she cared. He liked touching her, kissing her, and testing her.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wanted to fuck her. The urge had gotten stronger with each passing minute. Yeah, the soft kisses she’d given him had blown his mind. So, maybe not fuck her. Maybe a long, slow night of seduction, sin, and nakedness. Yeah, that sounded good.
Too good.
Shit.
He glanced over at her as he shifted lanes, blowing past the other cars as if they were parked on the highway. Maybe he should fuck her. Maybe ten minutes of hard-core, sweaty, no-feelings-involved fucking would clear his head and get her out of his system.
She’d tucked her hands beneath her chin, her face relaxed in her sleep. She looked younger, almost innocent, so different than the life he led. Scowling, he reached over and brushed a lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
Shit. Her skin was soft. Her hair was silky smooth. She was fragile and vulnerable.
All words that weren’t a part of his life.
Scowling, he wrapped both hands around the wheel and flexed his shoulders, staring grimly at the highway in front of him. He had to focus. He couldn’t be derailed. He couldn’t—
The sign for his brother’s exit loomed ahead.
Instinctively, he flicked his blinker on and began to shift lanes to get off the highway. He always stopped by to check on his brother when he was in the area. It would take an extra five minutes to drive by and check his energy. Three times Slade had actually spoken to him, but he’d wiped his mind afterwards. All the other times, he’d simply observed from a safe, strategic distance, making sure his brother was still okay, living a normal life devoid of murdered parents and an assassin brother. It had been too long since he’d checked on him. It was time.
He took his foot off the gas, and the car slowed down to take the exit, but as he did so, Anya’s eyes opened. She looked at him blankly for a second, and then yawned. “We’re here already?” Her voice was sleepy, making her sound even more vulnerable.
He gritted his teeth, and hit the gas again, flying past the exit. Now was not the time to check on his brother, not even for a moment. He was too far off his game. It wasn’t worth the risk. “Not yet. You can sleep more. Another half hour.”
He already had Anya to deal with. Now wasn’t the time to stop by and visit his brother. He wasn’t sharp right now, and he didn’t need the assassins on Anya’s tail to track them to the house of a guy who The Black Swan had absolutely no professional reason to visit.
Anya went back to sleep immediately, showing just how exhausted she was. She’d been on the run her entire life, alone for two weeks since Julia had disappeared. How much had she slept? Eaten? Done anything except look over her shoulder for the danger hunting her?
Did she have any skills at all? Was it pure luck that she was still alive?
And why the hell was she so important that the red-haired woman had pulled him back from death so he could protect her?
He still hadn’t answered that question, and it was bothering him. It was important. If he understood why the two of them had been chosen, he would know how to keep her safe.
He had to find out more, before it was too late.
Chapter 10
Wake up. Slade’s low voice brushed through Anya’s mind with an urgency that had her alert instantly. But don’t move.
Her eyes snapped open. She’d slumped down in the seat while she was sleeping, and had her head on his right thigh. Awareness leapt through her as she felt his thigh muscle flex beneath her cheek. Oh, God, really? Her face was almost at his crotch? Horrified, she started to get up. He pressed his hand to her shoulder, his fingers digging hard in a silent message not to move.
She tensed. What’s going on?
Something has been following us for the last six miles. Stay down. I’m going to try to shake it. His quad tensed beneath her cheek again, and the car sprang forward, throwing her back against him. The back of her head hit his stomach, and she looked up to see him glance in his rearview mirror. His face was taut, his eyes dark and focused. He looked like a predator, primed for assault, not like the man who’d kissed her senseless such a short time ago.
She swallowed, watching his face as he searched the night, searching for some indication of how much danger they were in. What is it?
I can’t get a read. I don’t know.
Anya’s heart began to pound, and she had to fight her instincts not to sit up and look behind them. She forced herself to lie still, so conscious of his hand on her shoulder, his grip steady and secure, even though she had no intention of moving. What can I do?
I was going to ask you that, he replied. What can you do? The car swerved to the left, and then to the right, as he navigated the highway. Do you have any combat skills?
She almost laughed at his question. I can bake bread. Will that help?
No paranormal skills at all?
She bit her lip as a thought crossed her mind, but she shook it off. No. None. I told you.
He didn’t answer, and she risked a glance at him. His jaw was set, his gaze intense as he scanned the highway. Don’t lie to me, Anya. You’re more than a run-of-the-mill human being. You have to be or you wouldn’t have gotten me for your guardian. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.
She tried to block him from her mind. I’m not lying—
Come on, Anya. I’m still alive because I can see through lies and illusions. What the hell is going on? I— He cut off their connection suddenly, and she felt his mind shift in another direction. It’s the demon.
Sudden pain exploded in her mind, and she gripped her head as he unleashed some sort of psychic energy outward. He threw up a shield between them almost instantly, but the damage had already been done. She gasped, holding her head, fighting nausea and dizziness.
“Shit. Sorry.” Slade laid his hand over her forehead, and just as suddenly, she felt waves of healing energy flooding her mind. “I’m not used to being connected with anyone. I didn’t protect you before I hit him. You okay?”
“Yes. Just give me a second.” Whatever he was doing with his hand was incredible, and she closed her eyes, letting his energy heal the fragmented parts of her mind. “How are you doing that?
“It’s how I heal myself.”
She didn’t ask how they could be that connected, and he didn’t offer it. After a moment of silence, she spoke up. “Is it gone? Can I sit up?”
“Yeah.” He released her, and she scooted back to her side of the car. The guardrail was flying past so quickly it was a blur, and she peeked at the speedometer. “Oh, God. Really?”
“Speed is my thing,” he said, knowing what she was talking about without her even saying it. “It’s okay. I almost never crash.”
“Almost never?” Then she saw the curve of his mouth, and realized he was teasing her. “You choose no
w to get a sense of humor? You almost gave me a heart attack.” But her tension eased, and she closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat, trying to calm herself. “How did the demon find us?”
“It tracked us from my safe house. You’re easier to track than I am. We’re going to have to work on that.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.” He sounded irritated, and she looked over at him.
He was gripping the steering wheel tightly, and his jaw was flexed. He looked tense and irritable, nothing like the man who had kissed her so sensually at the bar. He also didn’t look like the smooth, cold, killing machine of a few moments ago. He looked like a man who was human enough to let something annoy him.
She turned sideways in the seat, studying him. “You’re changing,” she said. “It’s harder for you now, being cold. You feel more. Does that endanger you?”
His jaw tightened. “I’m fine.”
She sighed. “Liar,” she said softly.
He ignored her.
The miles clicked past silently for a few minutes, then he spoke. “You know things you aren’t telling me,” he said. “You have suspicions about why you and your family are being hunted. I need to know.”
She checked her mental barriers to make sure he wasn’t sniffing around her mind. “I don’t know—”
“Give it up, Anya.” His voice was hard as he gunned the engine. “You need to tell me what you know. Now.”
She bit her lip, looking out the window. She’d been taught not to trust anyone, especially men. Her mother had drilled that into her head, and experience had reinforced it. “I have never told anyone,” she said quietly.
Leopard's Kiss (Shadow Guardians) (Shadows Guardians Book 1) Page 10