“I believe that’s her soul.”
Rori came to more slowly than usual. She was aching; her head on fire. Something was different this time. Her skin was deliciously warm, tingly and soft. Her breasts were oddly sensitive, and her… well, her lady parts were demanding attention. Sighing with anticipation, she started to curl onto her side for the rest of what must be a good dream, when someone patted her cheek--hard.
“Rori! Wake up. Come back here.”
Christ. Not a dream. She’d done it again!
Struggling to rise, she only succeeded in elbowing Declan in the groin before falling off of his lap. Jolting completely alert, she snapped, “What the hell are you doing here?” Whirling on Killian, she demanded, “Who are you?”
It was bad enough to wake up and have no idea where she was. She was starting to accept she was a freak. But an audience? Could the earth just open up and swallow her now? How long had she been out? How long had they been staring at her? It was too embarrassing to even think about. Damn.
“Come on, darlin’, let me give you a hand. You’re still feeling woozy. You’re lucky we were walking by and saw you faint.” Supporting her with an arm around her lower back, Declan helped her to stand.
She should have shrugged him off, but she didn’t have the energy. Usually she slept for a day after these little trips of hers. Why had she blacked out here? Something had triggered it. This was a first, and she definitely didn’t like it. She was too vulnerable out in the open. Damn it, things were escalating. It was scaring the living hell out of her. She wished for the hundredth time for Arthur’s quiet advice. Pasting a weak smile on her face, she dragged in a couple of calming breaths. He’s gone. He can’t find me here. It’s okay. She repeated the mantra a few more times before she believed it enough to say, “You’re sweet, Declan. Give me a minute. I’ll be okay.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
He gave her plenty of space but kept his hand resting on her, steadying her nerves, connecting them, warming her blood. Her heart stopped pounding as she inhaled his scent. She didn’t know him very well, but she loved his cologne. Whatever he wore was absolutely spellbinding. Fresh, woodsy, a little musky… he always smelled heavenly. It was all she could to not press her nose against the warm skin on his neck and sniff him like a dog. His hand shifted as he made a small circle on her back, the motion soothing, maybe too intimate for now, but she didn’t mind. She found herself leaning against him, eyes drifting closed. Her last conscious thought was his chest was wider than she thought.
As soon as she was out, Dec scooped her up and dematerialized. About 30 seconds later, they rematerialized in her little apartment. He carefully placed her on the battered futon, feeling guilty when she moaned. She’d be asleep until he needed her conscious.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I hate to do this, but it’s for your own good.”
She didn’t have much to search. He chewed on his lip and considered the milk crate she had as a dresser. Her shirts and pants were neatly folded and stacked on top of an empty cardboard box. Socks and panties nested inside a smaller box. No drawers to rummage. No computer to hack. No safe to crack or locks to pick. Pathetic.
There was a small stack of mail lying on the cracked Formica counter in the kitchen. It was mostly bills plus a past due notice for the rent. Now this was interesting. He fished a dog-eared, yellowing business card from under the pile of other papers. There was only a name and phone number on the front. He didn’t recognize either so he flipped it over and nearly dropped it. This was getting more interesting by the minute. He tucked the card into his pocket, moving on to the spotless bathroom.
The rusty medicine cabinet contained a toothbrush, a neatly crimped tube of toothpaste, and a tube of strawberry lip balm. She had nothing.
Sonofabitch! This was crap. This woman was special. She deserved so much more than nothing. How did this happen to her? He stood in the middle of her room, hands clenched into fists, and fumed over the unfairness of life. Human life.
Then he noticed the broken window… and the man staring into the room with murder in his eyes. Black-haired, black-eyed, cruelty etched in his every feature, the man seemed to snarl through the glass of his apartment window.
He met the man’s stare, held it, and stalked to the window. The man refused to look away until Dec pointed his Sig directly at the ugly face.
“Bang!” The words carried directly into the man’s mind.
The curtain swung closed and the man disappeared.
“That’s what I thought.” He shoved the weapon back into its proper place.
Rori was going to be royally pissed, but he wasn’t leaving her here. He’d drag her out of here if she said no. There wasn’t room for him to sit on the futon, so he squatted beside it and studied her serene expression. He’d given her that peace. It was the least he could do. Golden skin, exotic eyes, high cheekbones, pouty lips… she was the woman of any man’s fantasies. His for sure. He’d thought himself immune to human beauty, he appreciated it, sure, but he’d never been so affected that it clouded his judgment. He wouldn’t let that happen now either, but damn. She was sucking him in with every breath she took. Something about her eyes was familiar… they reminded him of someone else. He couldn’t put his finger on it yet, but it would come to him. He picked up her tiny hand mirror and studied his own reflection. How did she see him? He thought she was attracted to him, but she was afraid. People had let her down. She’d been on her own for too long to trust him easily. He’d have to work on that. She had to trust him if he was going to help her.
Reaching out to cup her face, he mumbled a prayer to Raphael, and let his energy flow from his fingertips. The pale light infused her face, and she opened her eyes.
“Don’t be mad,” he said. “I’m here to help you.”
“OUT! Get out of here now!”
Rori shoved him so hard he fell on his ass. Leaving him sprawled with shock all over his face, she stalked away, pointing to the door as she moved.
“Who do you think you are coming into my apartment? You can’t do that! You have no right to be here. No right to be in my life. You’re freaking me out now. I want you out.”
Declan’s mouth was still hanging open. Clamping his lips together, he pushed himself gracefully to his feet. Twin spots of red dotted his cheekbones, the rest of his skin paled. Bracing for his rage, she crossed her arms, clinging to what little bravado she had left.
“I mean it. Just get out. I don’t want to see you again! You’ve gone from helping to stalking!”
He flashed a dimple and begged, “You don’t mean that, Rori. I know you don’t.”
“You don’t know anything about me! Get out!” Her voice rose to a shout.
“No!” he shouted back, stalking towards her, his steps fluid and fast like a tiger striking. Backing away, she caught her breath. This was it. He was going to hurt her. She judged the distance to the front door and turned to run just as he stopped in front of her. She opened her mouth to scream and he covered it with his hand.
“Rori, stop this!”
Frantic to get away, she bit him then screamed bloody murder when he jerked his hand away. He shoved his other hand over her mouth; she kneed him in the balls. He shifted his hips at the last second so she only hit his thigh. He grunted in pain anyway and swore in some language she didn’t know. He maneuvered their bodies so she was pressed into the wall and then tightened his grip on her. She tried to struggle, tried to kick him, tried to scream… he was too strong to fight. She couldn’t budge his hands or his body. He was pressed against her from shoulders to feet, his legs around her so she stood between them with nowhere to go. Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes. She hated him as they ran down her face. He would probably kill her now… this was just the kind of year she was having. First the visions she couldn’t understand, then the nightmares she couldn’t remember, then the recent fugues she couldn’t explain. And Arthur…
It was just too much. She was tir
ed of being terrified, tired of being confused, tired of letting people die. Maybe this was best.
He held his breath when she surrendered but didn’t dare let go. She’d probably rip his nuts off. The poor woman was completely freaked out now. What the fuck just happened? He knew she’d be mad but had no idea she’d be so upset. Rori sagged against him, his torso the only thing holding her upright. Her head lolled against the wall, throat exposed and vulnerable, pulse beating a hundred miles an hour. The waves of terror struck him like a shotgun blast to the chest. Damn it! He would never hurt her. Didn’t want to scare her either. He was on her side! He just wanted to give her a better life. He royally fucked this up. He hoped he hadn’t accidently hurt her. With that thought in mind, he unclenched his muscles and surveyed the damages.
The cheap material of her shirt had ripped along the shoulder seam and neckline. The delicate curve of her collarbone seemed to condemn him. To make matters worse, his hand bled through the fabric on her shoulder. The shirt was ruined. He bit down on his lip and stopped inhaling. The smell of blood made him nauseous. Now was not the time to puke. Puking would make him look like more of an idiot. Willing them both to calm down, he panted for oxygen. Eyeing her like she might explode, he uncovered her mouth and gently smoothed the redness from her lip.
“I’m sor--”
“Just make it quick.”
Cupping her face, he growled low in his throat, “I’m not going to hurt you! Not now. Not ever.” He placed a tender kiss on each cheek, kissing away the tears. “Look at me, damn it! You’re special, Rori. Your life has a purpose.”
Once her eyes had something alive in them again, he brushed his mouth to hers in a feathery kiss. He pulled back and gave her a lopsided grin.
“Would you mind if I did that again? I think I missed a spot.”
It was working. She looked more stunned than suicidal now. He didn’t like the defeated droop in her shoulders, though. She was still on the wrong side of happy. Tilting her chin up, he tried cajoling her. “I’m the good guy, Rori. I keep telling you that, but you’re too stubborn to listen. I’d never hurt you, love.”
He crossed his heart with an X. “Cross my heart!”
“You’re killing me here. How can I be mad at you? You’re too damn cute.” She had herself back together and sniffed one last time. With a pointed glance at his hand still wrapped around her shoulder, she cracked a smile.
It was progress. He shifted his weight to move away and froze as he realized the position they were in. She was still standing between his legs. He should move away, God knew he should. But his brain refused to give the command to his feet. He closed his eyes against the feel of her pressed against him. She wasn’t pushing him away so maybe she was as affected as he was. Holy Hell, he needed to move… things were about to be too obvious to ignore.
She tried to still the racing of her heart before it rang off the walls. He’d frozen when she did. Every inch of him steamed against the thin fabric of her clothes. Their shirts had risen up, leaving patches of abs exposed, rubbing against the other. How did she get into this position? She barely knew Declan… but she felt like she should know him. There was something about him that attracted her, and it wasn’t just his gorgeous body pressed flush against hers. Now that she wasn’t hysterical, she realized he gave off a good vibe. He’d done nothing but try to help her so far. She had bitten him. Dear God, she’d bitten the poor man, and he’d bled all over her.
She pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed the small wound. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I don’t usually freak out like that… it’s been a weird week. My nerves are shot.”
He raised his eyebrows, spreading his palm outward, voice dropping to a velvety purr. “I think you need to kiss it again. It hurts. A lot.”
She brought it to her mouth and just when she was about to kiss it, he curled it around her nape, pulling her mouth to his. This was no feathery light tease. His mouth molded perfectly to hers, tasting, nibbling, before finally staking a claim. She opened her mouth to give him better access, and he took it. His tongue plunged deeper until an animal growl sounded low in her throat. She couldn’t get enough of him. Plastering herself against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling her pelvis up and across his erection as she did. Strong hands clutched her bottom, pressing her hard against him, sending starlight dancing behind her eyes and heat pooling between her legs. All she could think of was getting him naked. Her ability to think of anything else was gone. With a groan, he fisted her hair in his hand and tugged her head back to expose her throat.
“My God, you’re like velvet.” He dragged his mouth over her ear, nipping the lobe, and dipping the tip of his tongue around it.
She nearly exploded into a supernova right then. Reaching between them, she pushed his shirt over his head. Beautiful, sexy man! She couldn’t help the groan that escaped the second she ran her hands over the bare skin of his chest. “You feel so good. I want you now.” She froze in the middle of the assault and laughed. “I can’t believe I said that! I can’t help it. You’re making me crazy.”
He straightened from kissing his way across her shoulder and flashed a huge grin. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to resist!” Even as he said it, he unsnapped her jeans and dipped his hand inside to cup her bottom. She was in the middle of yanking his zipper down when she cried out with pain.
“Where did these bruises come from, love?” He wrapped a blanket around her for modesty before snapping his jeans. He was still uncomfortably hard, but he’d survive. It wasn’t the first time; wouldn’t be the last. It was a guy thing. Rori was his only concern right now. He’d noticed the small black bruises right about the same time she hurt her wrist on his zipper. He would cut out his tongue before he told this story to Sean or Killian. They’d never let him live it down.
She looked away. “I don’t know. I woke up with them this morning. My wrist too.” She lifted one shoulder and added, “I must’ve fallen on the bathroom floor. I was lying there when I woke up.”
“Did you have a nightmare last night?” Please say no. Please say no.
She lifted those sexy cat eyes to his and nodded. “Why?”
If that bastard touched her somewhere else… he’d tear Hell apart to find him. Keeping his tone even, he asked, “Any other bruises? Weird marks? Soreness?”
Now she straightened in alarm, dragging the blanket tighter. “What are getting at? You’re scaring me.”
“Do you or don’t you have other injuries? Please. Answer me. It’s important.” It took every ounce of control not to yell. He was so pissed, his eyes were heating up. He had to calm down before he did something stupid and scared the hell out of her again.
She scooted to the other end of the futon. Too late.
Deliberately lightening his tone, he added, “I’m sorry. I just want you to be all right. Have you noticed anything?”
“No. I didn’t see anything else. Do you… do you want to look at my back?” She pulled the shirt over her head.
He jammed his lips together so his mouth wouldn’t run on autopilot this time. She was too friggin’ thin. He could count her ribs. That’s it. They were getting to the bottom of this demon, and then he was giving her a new life. Maybe their crime lab could give her a job. They hired humans for a lot of jobs there. They paid better than the flower shop did. They had benefits too. She could move out of the shitty neighborhood and into a decent place. She’d be able to buy healthy food and something nice for herself too. He was going to fix this.
“Can you lift your hair off your neck for me, darlin’?” He smothered another wave of anger. He’d hoped to be wrong, but he was too used to this shit to miss the signs.
On the positive side, she didn’t have any more bruises.
On the negative side, she was royally screwed.
Chapter 8: A Matter of Trust
THE AFTERNOON SUN BLINDED THEM as they turned a corner and walked directly west on 28th Street. Dec slung a ratty backpack over his shoulder. It
was pathetically light considering it contained most of Rori’s worldly possessions. She carried a shopping bag stuffed with a few other things in her good hand. Together they looked like two day trippers hitting downtown Manhattan on a warm summer afternoon. Reality wasn’t so sunny.
It had taken every one of his persuasive talents to convince Rori to leave that apartment today. Oh, she wasn’t happy about it. She had a lot of good arguments, true. They’d gone back and forth over the reasons to leave and the reasons to stay. He’d patiently pointed out that her window was broken, and she had two scumbags paying too much creepy attention to her. The fire escape was conveniently located under her window--the broken one. She countered with the fact that they hadn’t actually broken in--like he himself had. Yeah, hard to argue that one!
He’d offered the idea that she had a demon sniffing around which she flatly refused to believe. Again. Why was she being so stubborn about this? It wasn’t that farfetched--they made horror movies about this all the time. She’d called him and Sean crazy when they tried to talk about it the other day. How could she not believe in demons? He’d asked her that question and she’d snorted. Snorted, scoffed, whatever! Tasting a sneaky victory, he’d demanded that she explain how she could believe in angels and not demons. Her reply had flattened him like an avalanche.
She didn’t believe in angels either. Who didn’t believe in angels? They were everywhere! Well, in statues and paintings and things like that. Live angels didn’t usually announce their identity. So she was in for a shock. Wait ‘til she got a good look at his halo…
Even worse than not believing in angels or demons, she was pretty sure God wasn’t real, either. When he pressed for a reason, she’d clammed up and packed her bag.
She’d been quiet since they left. Walking beside him, bumping against him once in a while, she seemed sad. He squeezed her hand and she flashed a nervous smile. Damn. She was such a lost puppy. After weaving around a woman with an SUV-sized stroller thing, he stopped in front of an ice cream stand. A line of little kids wearing matching yellow t-shirts waited their turns, giggling and yelling like his godsons did. Man, he missed the little dudes. He wondered if Rori liked kids. It was hard to tell right now. She hung back against the glass front of a cellphone store while he braved the noisy kids.
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