“That’s not good.” She stepped out of his arms. “What did you mean you’ve seen to it that Isabel won’t be going anywhere?”
His jaw clenched tight. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you? How about this? Get in the tub, let me clean your wounds, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know about the Deceiver or Isabel.”
“And what about you? Is that a topic of discussion?” She met his jade-green gaze and pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. If he thought he could get out of answering certain questions by literal deals, then he didn’t know her very well. Then again, she didn’t really know him, did she?
“That depends on the question. There are certain things I’ve taken an oath not to reveal about the Afterlife,” he said. “Angel and demon alike make the same vow to protect our existence. If mortals knew about us—“
“I understand.” Did that make him an angel then? All this time, she’d been walking around, believing he was human. It explained how he’d survived not one but two fights with Isabel and escaped without injury. She should’ve put the pieces together back at Reynolds’s apartment. The monster that’d killed her sister and her partner wouldn’t have left her alive without something—or someone—interrupting the attack. Water pounded into the ceramic tub, beckoning her to relax within its depths. She discarded the shreds of her jeans and tank top, bare to him all over again, and stepped into the tub. His gaze scanned over her and her skin heated without help from the hot water. She brought her knees into her chest and covered her breasts. Didn’t make sense. He’d seen every inch of her out there in the woods. Touched her in places she hadn’t known she’d missed being touched. “You saved my life back in Reynolds’s apartment when you could’ve let her kill me and gotten your target. Why? You don’t owe me anything. You don’t even know me.”
“Does it matter?” He knelt at the side of the tub and unfolded the simple white washcloth hanging over the edge. In two moves, he’d soaked the material and carried the water across her back. Fire raced down her spine and she sucked in a solid gasp through her teeth. Not good. The scrapes pounded in rhythm with her heartbeat. Concern exploded across his expression. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,”—she shook her head and locked her jaw tight—“But the tree probably wasn’t a good idea.” The pain receded. “And that doesn’t get you out of answering my question. You clearly won the game we were playing in my kitchen and you didn’t say anything.”
“You needed the win.” A laugh rumbled up his throat. Gripping the washcloth in one hand, he reached for the shower knobs and twisted them off. Hot water soothed the exhaustion and ache deep in her tense muscles. Her body begged her to unwind, relax, lay back in the tub, but his thorough cleaning of her wounds had to come first. He focused on her back and swiped the washcloth across her skin again. “You’ve figured out I’m not human. The Deceiver brought me back from the dead, but that doesn’t mean I’m like him. I still care. I still feel. And I know the difference between innocent and guilty. You’re one of the good guys. I couldn’t leave you there to die.”
He neared her shoulder with the cloth and she caught his wrist. His eyes snapped to hers. Confusion clouded the mesmerizing depths. A steady pulse beat against the pad of her thumb and she swallowed her hesitation. He was right. He didn’t sacrifice innocents for the sake of some psychotic goal or in the search of power. He wasn’t like them—like Isabel—but what did that make him? “Thank you.”
He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and lower abdominals tightened. “You’re welcome.”
The soft patter of rain hit the roof, almost closing them in together even more. She let go of his wrist and hugged her knees close. “How bad is it back there?”
“Not as bad as you might think. You’re already healing,” he said.
How was that possible? She hadn’t consciously used any kind of power Grayson said she had to heal. This whole world of paranormal crap didn’t make sense. She wasn’t one of them. She would’ve known. “But Isabel’s bite is getting worse.”
“Yes.” The deep timbre in his voice flipped her stomach. He didn’t like the idea the wound wasn’t healing. He maneuvered onto his knees and pressed himself to his feet. “I’ve done as much as I can for the injuries on your back. You should rest while I check on Isabel.” He headed toward the bathroom door and her heart lurched.
“Wait,” she said.
He spun back. The same locked-down expression of concern crossed his features. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just…” Didn’t want him to leave. Needed him. Craved him. Stupid. Two days ago, he was an FBI agent threatening to take over Rachel’s case. Today, he hunted demons for a living and admitted he wasn’t exactly human. Didn’t matter. He’d saved her life—twice—and protected her at every turn. They made a good team. Human or not, he’d woken something deep inside she hadn’t thought possible between them: a future. Hunting demons. Together. Nika reached for the drain stopper and pulled it up. Water mixed with her blood swirled smooth circles around the drain. In less than ten breaths, she’d submerged the stopper again and turned on the water. “Get in the tub.”
Desire consumed his gaze. “Are you sure that’s what you want? The adrenaline we shared out there has worn off by now, but I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. And Isabel—”
“You said so yourself she isn’t going anywhere anytime soon and I’m well-aware the adrenaline is gone.” She hiked her chin higher and relaxed her knees away from her breasts. Her nipples puckered in the onslaught of cool air. “Now get. In. The. Tub.”
Grayson covered the short distance in one stride, tearing his shirt as he moved. He dropped the fabric and the remnants of his slacks and boxer briefs disappeared at the edge of the tub. He stood over her. Waiting for her to change her mind? Wouldn’t happen. She needed this. They needed this. No running for their lives. No demons to interrupt or bodies on the floor. Just them. Her heart ticked heavy behind her ears. He still hadn’t moved. Then, lifting one broad thigh, he dipped his foot in the water. The rest of him followed and she scooted down toward the drain to give him room. Muscle surrounded her from every angle as he settled in the rising water. He gripped both of her hips and pulled her into him. Right where she craved to be.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Perfect.” She relaxed back against his strong upper body, bits and strands of her hair frizzing around her face from the steam. Tension she’d held onto over the last two days vanished. She melted into him and set the back of her head high on his shoulder. “You know, I’m not exactly a fan of baths, but you’re definitely making me reconsider.”
“You’ve been through a lot.” His lips tickled her ear. “Your body needs to recover.”
“Unfortunately, the bad guys don’t give a damn about when my body needs to recover.” But he did. Although, he wasn’t such a bad guy. No matter who’d brought him back to life. The lies had been to protect her. Right? “Why did the Deceiver bring you back from the dead?”
His rough exhale swept across her scalp. He butterflied his touch up her back then grabbed the shampoo bottle from the side of the tub. Clear gel cascaded into his palm before he smoothed it between his palms. “Do you trust me?” he whispered into her ear.
“Yes.” Unequivocally. If she’d learned one thing over the last two days, it was he didn’t mean her any harm. The citrus scent of the shampoo, combined with his earthy undertones, soothed her nerves as he threaded his fingers through her hair. He increased the pressure on her scalp, massaging the nightmares she’d experienced away. She closed her eyes, lost. Found. By him.
“I got myself a nickname back when I first started working for the Bureau. I’d been assigned to missing persons right out of Quantico and the first file that came across my desk was a cold case. A ten-year-old girl who’d been missing for two years. Nobody wanted the case. Nobody had any new leads. She’d just been forgotten.” His touch lightened and, even though she couldn’t see his face, Nika i
magined his green eyes full of pain. “Local PD had found her backpack four blocks from her house, but the girl—Emily—had no reason for being over there. She went to school on the opposite end of town and all her friends lived near her house.”
A soft exhale escaped her lungs without permission. “You thought the backpack was planted. By the person who took her?”
“I couldn’t explain why. It was a gut feeling. Instinct.” He combed his fingers to the ends of her hair and brushed against her back. A shudder raced between her shoulder blades as he lowered his voice. “Cops had already canvased the area, but something kept pulling me back to the girl’s apartment building. I re-interviewed every tenant in the place. A lot had changed in the two years she’d gone missing. New tenants had moved in. Old ones moved on. But I couldn’t shake the feeling she was there.”
She twisted her upper body around to meet his gaze. Grayson dropped his hands into the cooling water. Some unknown light resided in his eyes. Not pain. Not guilt. Pride. “You found her. After two years, you found her in her own apartment building.”
“Her teacher lived in the same building. Two floors up. He’d offered her a ride home one day after school, but instead kept her locked up in his bedroom closet. Her parents never knew she was so close. That day, the agents around the office gave me a nickname. The Bloodhound.” Water sloshed against the side of the tub as he cupped handfuls in his palms and lifted them to her head. She relaxed back against him, completely enveloped in citrus and him. His ribcage expanded and receded evenly, but darkness wove through his words. “The Deceiver recruited me an hour before my autopsy, said he was impressed with my skills. He promised I’d have another chance to arrest the man who’d killed me if I tracked a handful of demons gone rogue for him.”
“How many have there been?” She locked her gaze on the shower knobs, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.
“A lot more than a handful.” There was the regret—the guilt—she’d expected and it churned her insides violently. He might’ve agreed to the terms of the Deceiver’s deal, but obviously didn’t have a say in when that agreement ended. “Isabel’s my last.”
“Did he keep his end of the bargain? Did you ever catch the Warehouse Butcher?”
“The devil never keeps his promises. That’s what makes him the devil,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” Her ribs struggled to expand. She’d arrested every suspect tied to the crimes that came across her desk. She couldn’t imagine having that kind of loose end running around on the streets. And Grayson’s had been personal. Silence descended over the bathroom. Not even the water dared make noise. The even thump of his heart against her back lulled her eyes closed. It’d be so easy to fall asleep right here, but the Arch-demon tied to the tree outside wouldn’t wait for them to rest. Maybe the Deceiver would keep his end of the deal this time. Maybe Isabel would be the last target for Grayson to hunt. Worth a shot. “So was that thing that attacked Isabel him? The Deceiver, I mean.”
Grayson’s chest rose on a strong inhale. “No.”
“Too bad. We could’ve ended this tonight.” Memories of the monstrous beast—so powerful—raked a shiver up her back. Of all the monsters she’d faced in the last two days, she’d never been so scared in her life. A demon that could tear an Arch-demon to literal pieces hid in the forest just beyond these walls. And he’d been within mere feet from her. She stared at the surface of the cooling water. Why had it run away when it could’ve slaughtered her right there? She hadn’t exactly been a threat. Not against him, but demons weren’t known for sparing the innocent. Isabel proved that over and over again. “It was terrifying. He looked right at me with those black eyes like I was something to eat.”
His hands slipped to her arms and squeezed. “You’re safe. I’d never let that beast or the Deceiver hurt you.”
She shook her head. No point in creating problems when none existed. They had enough to deal with. “How do you contact the Deceiver when it’s time to turn over your target?”
“I go to Hell.” Such an easy answer.
She spun around and met his gaze. “How? Where is it?”
“Enough questions for tonight. You should get some sleep.” He leveraged his hands between them then stood. Water dripped around her as he maneuvered onto the thin bath mat at the edge of the tub. Lean muscle dipped and protruded as he dried himself off. Her skin went cold. “The sun will be up in a couple hours and I need to check on Isabel.”
She nodded. Made sense. After everything they’d been through the last couple days, she was sure she looked as good as she felt. And that wasn’t good. “Are you going to take her to the Deceiver like the others?”
“Yes.” His jade-green eyes narrowed at the corners with a slight tilt to his chin. He wrapped a towel around his waist and secured it with the corners. “Why?”
She’d already made her decision. He shouldn’t have to face the Deceiver alone and he shouldn’t be kept on the end of a hook waiting for the bastard to let him go. Nika stood, facing him head on, jaw set. “Because I’m going with you.”
Chapter Fifteen
She couldn’t admit why she needed him so close. She’d never been one of those women that desperately clung to the man in their life, but Grayson brought out qualities and ideas from inside she hadn’t even known existed. At least, not since she’d graduated from the academy. Getting too attached to anyone could get her killed. Or worse. Someone she loved. Everything in her life from the past year had been centered around overturning her suspension, but with Reynolds dead and her sister gone, what value could she possibly get out of a job she no longer believed in? Evil came in too many forms to fight and pure exhaustion at the idea of returning to the 19th Precinct turned her stomach to stone. No. There wasn’t anything left for her there. And Grayson was making her want things she’d never imagined possible. He’d changed her. Forever.
Scrapes and cuts stung across her back as she settled against the tree he’d pinned her up against less than an hour ago. The phantom weight of him pressed against her, of him inside her, pimpled goose bumps down her arms. Her lips tingled with deep kisses and the taste of him in her mouth. Pure sex had radiated from his jade-green eyes, a look she’d never forget. He’d certainly lived up to the fantasies that’d crowded her thoughts from day one. More than she imagined. But the fantasy had to end sometime. She exhaled hard. Especially with the Arch-demon tied up in front of her.
“You know, a good jailer is supposed to interrogate their prisoner.” Isabel shifted on the cold dirt a few feet away. Straight white teeth gleamed from the limited moonlight streaming through the trees. The zip ties had done their job so far, as had the length of rope she’d found inside the cabin securing her prisoner to the massive tree. Grayson’s runes, combined with the injuries Isabel incurred facing off with that beast, didn’t hurt either. But Nika wasn’t stupid. The monster behind the pretty, feminine mask was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Curled into a lean blonde with fake, blemish-free skin resided a vicious nightmare, the same one that’d killed her sister. But Grayson had asked her to not to engage until he came back from surveying the perimeter. Most likely afraid she’d do something stupid. Wouldn’t work. She’d tried using her “power” against that massive beast, but nothing had happened. Her brows pinched inward at the memory. Then it’d run off into the forest—like she’d scared it—which didn’t make sense. What did a monster like that have to be afraid of? “Didn’t they teach you anything in that academy of yours?”
She studied a nearby rock and pulled her knees closer to her chest. Her boots cast perfect indentations in the dirt at her feet. She’d run dozens of interrogations over her years on the force and ninety percent of her suspects signed that single statement at the end admitting to their crime. This was different. This had become personal the second Isabel targeted the most important person in her life. And the confession? It wouldn’t lead to life in some human high-security prison. Nope. The bitch would rot in hell for what
she’d done. Literally.
“Oh, come on, Veranika. Don’t make me talk to myself. I’ve had centuries to perfect those conversations.” Isabel stretched her long, pale legs in front of her. Dried blood caked across the thin skin at her neck, but Nika couldn’t see the full extent of her injuries. Demons healed fast. Faster than humans. So how much time did that leave until Isabel regained full strength? The demon’s armor gleamed with reflective moonlight as she moved. “There’s a reason you’re keeping me here. Why don’t you ask your questions so I can then lie to you, break free of these measly binds, and kill both you and your little protector before I bring your heads back to the Deceiver?”
The humor tinting the Arch-demon’s voice grated on her nerves, as though Isabel found Rachel’s murder enjoyable, pleasurable. Funny. Rage fueled the burn in her shoulder and down her back. She didn’t expect to get the answers she needed, even if she asked nicely, but there were other ways to get information out of a suspect. None of which Grayson would approve of, she was sure.
“I guess I’ll have to interrogate myself.” A high, lilting laugh trickled over her skin and raised goose bumps along the way. The foreign energy inside her responded instantly, pressing her harder against the tree as it coiled in the pit of her stomach. What the hell? Isabel set the crown of her head against the tree at her back and stared up into the cloudless night. Her voice shifted higher, mocking. “Isabel, why on earth did you kill my precious sister? What kind of monster does something like that?” Another shift in her voice. “Well, Veranika, your sister got in my way. She tried to stop me from completing my assignment and I did what I do best. You see, I’m evil and that’s what evil is supposed to do. Kill innocents.”
Nika struggled to keep her attention on the damn rock at her feet and not reach for the gun nestled in her lap. Flashes of Rachel’s crime scene beat against the back of her eyes. Bullets wouldn’t do any good. Her fingers curled into fists as she ground her teeth. “Shut up.”
His Seductive Target (Afterlife, #2) Page 15