Burning Ash

by N. J. Walters

  As soon as the sun had risen, Asher had produced a pair of shades from a pocket in his long leather coat. She wished she could see his eyes to give her a better idea of what he was thinking.

  “At least give me your number.”

  The man could teach stubborn to a mule.

  “Fine.” She rattled it off, barely stifling a yawn.

  He input it into his phone and then pressed send, making her phone vibrate. “Now you have mine. Promise you’ll call if anything happens.”

  “I will.” And she would. Right after she’d dealt with whatever it was.

  She figured he knew what she was thinking when he looked up to the sky as if seeking Divine intervention, or at least celestial help. When none was forthcoming, he looked back at her. “Just stay alert.”

  Now that she could give him. “Always. I’ll call later.”

  She swung the duffel bag with her weapons across her shoulder. The weight sent her tilting to one side. He stopped her from stumbling but didn’t let go of her arms. And she didn’t care.

  Stop staring at his lips.

  He moved closer, as if daring her to move away, but she didn’t.

  Just a taste.

  That couldn’t hurt. Right?

  Sure, his inclination to take over annoyed her, but he’d actually proved himself to be dependable backup and decent company on the long drive back.

  Throwing caution to the wind, she went up on her toes, putting their mouths in perfect alignment. His lips were warm and firm as they feathered over hers in a barely there caress. Not enough. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. Reaching up, she gripped the back of his neck and held him in place. His mouth curved into a smile before his tongue teased her lips.

  When she parted them, he slipped inside. Her toes curled in her steel-toed boots.

  She’d been kissed before, but this was different. He took his time, stroked and explored, mapping her mouth, nibbling on her lips. There was no rush, no sign of impatience.

  Not to be outdone, she returned the favor. He tasted divine—a deadly combination of hot male, coffee, cinnamon, and sugar. Yum.

  The slow, sweet, and sensual caress enveloped her. Her breasts were heavy and aching, her panties damp. She was more alive than she had been in a very long time.

  The blaring of horns, the rumble of traffic, and the voices of people all faded into the background. There was only Asher.

  When he eased away, she moaned in protest and tried to bring him back.

  “Get a room,” someone yelled.

  She jerked, shocked at how she’d lost control, as well as the awareness of her surroundings.

  There was somebody meddling with her life. They could have eyes on them right now.

  “You sure you don’t want me to come up to your apartment?” His husky whisper almost made her cave. A shiver of sensual longing threatened her composure.

  It would be so easy to say yes.

  “No. I need to go.” She shoved her duffel higher on her shoulder and walked away. Her legs were trembling, her knees weak. Every part of her tingled. A woman was heading into the building, and Jo hurried to catch the door.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Why didn’t he just leave? When he licked his lips, her nipples tightened and her core spasmed.

  A low moan broke from her lips.

  The woman paused beside her. “Girl, if I had a man who looked like that, I wouldn’t be leaving him on no sidewalk.”

  “It’s complicated,” she told the stranger.

  “Ain’t it always?” With a laugh, the woman was on her way.

  Jo took a deep breath. There had to be a fire door in the back. She needed to find it and head home. The farther away she got, the more she wanted to run back to him.

  “Not happening,” she muttered. They might have to partner up to get to the bottom of things, but she wasn’t going to let down her guard. She couldn’t let herself care about anyone. It hurt too much when they died.

  And they always died.

  …

  Jo disappeared into the building. The taste of her lingered on his lips. The scent of her arousal teased his nostrils.

  Kissing her might not have been smart, but it was essential. He’d had to taste her lips. They were sweet and soft, the complete opposite of the tough, kick-ass woman he’d spent the past dozen or so hours with.

  She was competent, intelligent, and complex.

  She was also lying about where she lived. But she was so smooth and smart about it—following another woman into the building—it would have been easy to be misled. He admired her tenacity and street smarts. His hunter was clever not to lead him to her home. Still, it had to be nearby.

  She probably planned to slip out a back exit. Without delay, he went down the nearby alley, moving quickly through the shadows. He came around the end of the building just in time to catch a glimpse of her duffel bag going around a corner.

  The chase was on.

  Using his preternatural speed, he kept her in sight, ducking out of the way when she turned several times. She sensed someone following. Her instincts were well honed, but he was better.

  The sun had drifted behind a cloud, for which he was grateful. His eyes were sensitive to light. So was his skin. He might not burst into flames in the daylight, but he’d never be able to walk around with his shirt off at the height of summer, either. Not without incurring a serious burn. Still, it was better than the alternative.

  Rather than going straight to her apartment, she circled the neighborhood several times before finally entering a building. He followed, not needing a key to open the doors. The force of his mind was enough to handle these simple locks.

  Her footsteps were light as she headed up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. A door opened and shut. He waited several more seconds before turning the corner and coming face-to-face with the barrel of a 9mm.

  “You going to shoot?” He laughed.

  “I should. It would serve you right.” Counter to her words, she removed her finger from the trigger and shoved the gun back into the shoulder holster before picking up the bag at her feet. “It was you trailing me, wasn’t it?”

  “Guilty. You’d never take me to your home.” She was too smart for that.

  They weren’t that different when it came down to it. Being distrustful kept them alive.

  “But you followed me anyway.” She strolled down the hall to the last door on the right. Keys in hand, she disengaged the locks.

  “I needed to make sure you were okay.” It was almost a compulsion at this point. He stuck his big foot in the doorway to keep her from slamming it in his face. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  She gave a snort of derision as she tossed the bag on the sofa and faced him, defiance in every line of her body. “Takes more than that to scare me. Well, you coming? You’re no vampire. Not like you need an invitation.”

  If she only knew.

  “That’s an old wives’ tale. They don’t need permission to enter your home.” He stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

  “I’m well aware.” The flat tone of her voice told him to drop it. Being a smart man, he decided to do just that, at least for the time being.

  The apartment was small with a closet and bathroom on the left and the opening to a tiny kitchen on the right. The rest of the place was one L-shaped open space that had been divided between sleeping area and living area by several tall bookshelves.

  “Cozy.” The whole of it could fit in his master bedroom, but he was enthralled with the place because it was hers.

  “It’s home.”

  Unable to curtail his curiosity, he wandered farther in and perused the shelves. There were books, mostly nonfiction about vampires and other paranormal subjects. Some of the volumes were very old and rare. There was no te
levision.

  There was a compact audio system, good quality. What kind of music did she enjoy?

  On one shelf was a picture of a smiling couple, their arms around each other. He could see Jo in both. They had to be her parents.

  Doing her best to ignore him, she opened her duffel and drew out the sword and crossbow, placing them on mounts on the wall. Dirty clothes got shoved into a laundry hamper just inside the bathroom door. It only took her a minute to tuck everything away.

  Efficient and neat.

  “Since you’re here, you might as well call your friend.” She was in the kitchen, but he could see her through the open pass-through, which also created a small breakfast bar with two stools.

  Asher pulled out his phone and punched in a number. As expected, it went to voicemail. Maccus wasn’t one for answering the phone if he could avoid it. And avoiding it was his favorite thing to do.

  “It’s Asher. I have a situation. Private email that I can’t trace. I’m sending it to you. Let me know if you can find out who is behind it. I crossed paths with a hunter—Jo Radcliffe. She got the same email. Someone went to a lot of trouble to get us both to the same spot. I’m going to—”

  Before he could finish the line beeped and went dead. With a shrug, he pocketed his phone.

  “That’s it.” Jo retrieved a bottle of juice from the fridge and held it up. He shook his head at the silent offer.

  “Maccus doesn’t like to talk on the phone, text, or email. He’ll get the message eventually.”

  “Eventually? That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence. We need answers.” Impatience rolled off her in waves. Not that he blamed her. “And just who is this Maccus guy?” She downed her juice in one long mouthful and set the glass in the sink.

  “Someone you don’t cross.” Warning was thick in his voice. “Smarter to avoid coming to his attention at all.”

  While the fallen angel had changed somewhat over the past months, he was still feared by both Heaven and Hell. Maybe even more dangerous now that he had something, someone, to lose.

  “Right. Fine.” She waved toward the door. “You can go now.”

  Not going to happen.

  Asher sprawled out on her couch, spreading his arms across the back. His fingertips almost reached each end. “I like it here.”

  “You are not staying.” She glanced meaningfully toward the crossbow. Would she actually shoot him? She was definitely thinking about it.

  “Take your shower and then get some sleep. I’m going to rest. Later, when we’re feeling better, we can get something to eat and figure out where we go from here.”

  Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “I ought to shoot your ass.”

  “You think you’re the first woman to threaten me with that?”

  She walked to the door and yanked it open.

  Shit. A man who’d lived as long as he had should know better. Never bring up other women.

  But he was tired since he hadn’t slept in almost three days. Not since he’d received the email that had sparked this little adventure. While he could get by on very little rest, he did need to recharge.

  Unlike others of his kind, he not only needed blood to survive but food as well. Not a lot of either, but enough. And right now, he was low on both, which only added to his growing fatigue.

  He could take care of one of those problems and give her some space. Once she’d rested, they had things to do. There might not be another good opportunity for him to feed for some time.

  Last thing he wanted was to sport fangs and red eyes in her presence.

  “You’re a cold woman to throw me out onto the mean streets of the city.”

  Her lips twitched before they firmed. “You have a place in the city. You’ll survive. Catch the subway or a cab.” The slight droop of her shoulders and the shadows under her eyes decided it. She needed rest and wouldn’t do that with him here.

  He shoved off the sofa, pausing when he reached her. “Call if you need me.” Not that she would. She was already proving to be independent and headstrong.

  They were alike in that way.

  Catching her chin in his hand, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. They were soft and warm and gave slightly beneath his.

  Cursing under his breath, he walked away while he still could.

  The door of her apartment closed, and several locks engaged.

  Yet he stood in the hallway and listened, his preternatural hearing acute. When the shower came on, he groaned. Jo was in there, naked, with hot water cascading over her long, lean body.

  Hands fisted at his sides, he strode from the building.

  It was early afternoon, and there was no shortage of people. He walked down the sidewalk in search of a donor. He didn’t consider them victims, not unless they’d done something to piss him off. Do no harm was the motto he lived by when it came to taking blood.

  Bloodlust was something he’d lived with since he’d been changed, a nagging itch that never fully left him. Which was why he was scrupulous with making sure his blood needs and food requirements were met.

  It kept him level.

  Because beneath it all, he was a monster. One that could lay waste to thousands, maybe millions, if he went over the edge. It would take a powerful paranormal, maybe even a god, to destroy him.

  After all, it took a monster to catch monsters. His ability to walk in daylight allowed him to hunt them when they were at their most defenseless. He didn’t possess the same vulnerabilities they did. Stronger, faster, he was an anomaly. He was their version of the boogeyman.

  He ducked behind a warehouse. As luck would have it, several men were finishing up their late lunch break. They were all strong and healthy and could afford to donate a pint.

  Asher unleashed his abilities and cast out a net of compulsion. One of the men had started to walk back into the building. He let the man go, instead pulling the remaining two toward him.

  Eyes glazed, they trotted over to where he was waiting. “Gentlemen, I need a moment of your time.” He clasped the first man by the wrist and raised it to his mouth. He never drank from the neck. Too personal. This was about satisfying a biological necessity and nothing more.

  Razor-sharp teeth erupted from his gums and he sank the sharp points into soft flesh. Blood splashed into his mouth. He drank deeply, gauging the man’s heartbeat. When he’d taken all the man could easily give, he withdrew and licked the wound, closing it. Then he did the same to the second man. By the time he’d drunk his fill, he was energized, back at full strength. But most importantly, he was steady, and in no danger of exposing his true self to Jo.

  “Thank you,” he told them. He reached into his jacket and drew out two fifty-dollar bills, putting one in the pocket of each man. “You both got lucky on a scratch ticket. Enjoy your windfall. Now go.”

  They turned and walked away. Neither would have any memory of the encounter. Even now, the healing agent in his blood was shrinking the small puncture wounds on their wrists.

  No one remembered him unless he wanted them to.

  They were several feet from the warehouse door when they gave a shudder and snapped out of the compulsion. For several seconds, they seemed confused. Then one of them turned to the other. “Hey man, what are we going to do with the fifty bucks we each won?”

  The other man laughed. “I’m going to call the wife and take her out for dinner at the new Italian place that just opened up a couple blocks over. Hey, maybe you and Linda can join us.”

  Asher listened as they made plans and waited until they were safely inside. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, every cell in his body energized by the new infusion.

  I should go home.

  That would be the smart thing to do. He was already too involved with Jo. What did he really know about her? She was brave and an amazing hunter. And she was kind. He do
ubted she’d agree with his assessment, but she’d gone after Vlad to save the humans from themselves. She’d given him a ride back to the city. Not to mention coming to his rescue during the holdup.

  Everything he’d learned made him want to peel back the layers until he understood every aspect of her. She fascinated him, drew him in a primal way. The need to protect her, keep her safe, overrode all others.

  He raced back to her apartment. Using his mental abilities, it was child’s play to manipulate the locks so they opened.

  Everything inside him settled when he stepped inside and heard her soft breathing coming from the bed. Silently, he engaged the locks and removed his coat and boots. The sofa was small and uncomfortable.

  Not that he hadn’t slept in worse places.

  He stood in the opening to her makeshift bedroom and watched her sleep. She was sprawled in the middle of the single bed—a definite sign that she usually slept alone—with the covers pulled up around her.

  The bed wasn’t roomy, but it did have one thing going for it—Jo.

  Given that he wanted her to trust him, breaking into her apartment and sharing her bed wasn’t the best way to go about it. Yup, he was going to get his ass shot for sure this time, but it would be worth it to know she was protected.

  He lay down on top of the covers, careful not to jar his hunter. He could easily use a compulsion to make sure she didn’t wake but was reluctant to do so.

  She groaned and rolled over on her side.

  Sighing with relief, replete with blood that even now soaked into every cell in his body, he curled up behind her and slept.

  Chapter Five

  One minute Jo was asleep, the next wide awake. That was always how it was for her. There was no in-between, no hovering between sleep and wakefulness. But unlike every other day, she didn’t jump out of bed.

  Warm and cozy, her blankets were wrapped around her like a soft hug. The last hunt had left her exhausted. She’d slept hard and deep.

  Something moved behind her.

  I’m not alone.

  She slipped her hand under her pillow and closed her fingers around the handle of the knife she kept there. In a fast maneuver, she jerked up and around. Leading with her forearm, she slammed it against the throat of the man beside her, holding the knife just above his face. Shock reverberated through her when she discovered the intruder’s identity.