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.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Asher had left. She’d locked the damn door behind him. “Did you steal my keys?” They’d been in her coat pocket. Maybe he’d lifted them on the way out when he’d distracted her with a kiss.
“Good morning. Or rather, good evening.” His voice was a hoarse croak. It was difficult for him to talk with her arm cutting off the airflow to his lungs.
“Answer me.” Somehow Asher had managed to crawl into bed without her waking. Something that should have been impossible. She’d trained herself to be aware at all times, even during sleep. Did that mean she subconsciously trusted him? That didn’t sit well. He was practically a stranger.
There wasn’t much room in a single bed. They were pressed close together in the small space to accommodate them both. That it felt comfortable and right was beside the point.
He tried to move his head but stopped when she applied more pressure.
“You want to ease up?”
“No, no, I don’t. I should kick your ass and call the cops.” Despite her anger, she couldn’t stop staring. No man should look this good when he first woke. Blond hair fell around his shoulders, giving him a wild appearance. His eyes were sleepy and sexy and seemed to hold the secrets of the world, maybe even the universe.
Anger. Not attraction.
On a huff of frustration, she shoved the knife back under her pillow and started to roll out of bed, only to be brought up short when his arm tightened around her, anchoring her to him. He didn’t pin her down, simply hugged her.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” His breath was warm against her ear, his sexy whisper sending shivers down her back.
“You had no right.” Her home was her sanctuary, and he’d invaded it.
“I know.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her temple and pressed a kiss there. “I was worried about you. I’d planned to sleep on the couch and be gone before you woke.”
“How is that any better?” She closed her eyes, steeling herself against the softer emotions that threatened her resolve. It would be so easy to relax and enjoy the peace of the moment, the sensual awareness that came from a male and female body tucked together.
She spent far too many nights alone in her bed. And when was the last time anyone had hugged her? It was safer not to make connections with people, but there was a trade-off.
Don’t be charmed by him.
Even as she tried not to be seduced, he pressed his lips against her hair. Without her approval, her body melted into his much larger, warmer one. “You weren’t invited.” If she let this go, he’d take advantage of every situation. She had a feeling it was in his nature, just as it was in hers.
Giving a sigh of pure male aggravation, he raised himself up on one arm and stared down at her. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”
She thought about it for a second and then shook her head. “You wouldn’t mean it.”
His grin was fleeting, his white teeth gleamed. “You’re right, but if it would make you feel better, I’d say it anyway.”
God, the man had charm to burn. She couldn’t allow herself to be drawn in by it, at least not any more than she already had.
“We need to get up. I need to get up,” she corrected. It wasn’t smart to start thinking of them as a unit. They were together for now, bound by a common goal.
He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over her skin. “My intentions were good.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Only it did. No one ever worried about her.
“Since you’re already mad, I might as well do this.” His lips pressed against hers, warm and firm. When she sighed in acceptance, parting hers, he returned again and again, teasing, tempting. Her blood thickened, and the pounding of her heart echoed in her ears. Her fingers were somehow tangled in his hair and she was kissing him back, her tongue stroking his. It was slow and languid and so freaking hot her panties grew damp.
I have to stop.
It had been over a year since she’d had a man’s hard body pressed against hers. And Asher’s was prime. His shoulders stretched the seams of his T-shirt. Beneath it, his chest was hard and firm. She’d bet anything he had six-pack abs just waiting to be stroked and explored.
Her nipples pebbled under her shirt. Good thing she’d pulled on underwear and a long-sleeved shirt before climbing into bed or she’d be in big trouble.
It had definitely been way too long. The one-night stand with someone from her old neighborhood had been hot and hurried, nothing at all like this slow burn. When it was over, she’d left and never called him.
Asher would be much harder to shake.
“This isn’t smart.” With his clever mouth nibbling her bottom lip, it was hard to remember why.
“I think it’s goddamn brilliant.”
She fisted the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “Really not smart.” Yanked him closer and thrust her tongue into his mouth. He didn’t try to dominate, instead letting her take the lead. There was a slightly metallic, spicy taste that gave her a small zing.
It would be so easy to say the hell with it.
An alarm blasted in the part of her brain that was still functional.
“No.” She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed. He released her and flopped onto his back, his breathing heavy.
Scrambling out of bed, she grabbed some clothes and hurried to the bathroom. Asher groaned like a man in pain. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was still lying there with his arm over his face.
Long and lean with his biceps rippling, he looked good enough to eat.
He broke into my home.
“Once I’m dressed, we’ll talk.” It was time he understood her position once and for all.
…
The image of her long legs and firm ass cupped by white silk panties was burned on his brain. He swallowed heavily, not daring to move until the bathroom door slammed shut.
He winced as he sat upright and reached down to adjust his dick to keep it from being squeezed in half. His plan had been to be gone before she woke. But she’d been so soft and warm, he’d done something he never did around anyone—he’d let down his guard and slept. And not just for a few minutes, but for hours.
Either he’d been more tired than he’d thought, or it was all due to the woman in the other room.
Standing, he stretched his arms over his head, ignoring his erection. Arousal wouldn’t kill him, but she might if he didn’t get himself under control.
While he listened to her progress, he dug around the bed for the hair tie that had slipped off. He smiled when he lifted her pillow and found the knife there. With a shake of his head, he left it there and pulled back the covers until he found what he was looking for.
He had his hair tied back and his body under control by the time Jo strode out of the bathroom. She was dressed in black jeans and dark purple shirt. Her jaw was taut, chin lifted, and eyes steady. Her emotional armor was back in place. “What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch. “Just past seven. We slept the afternoon away.” Right on cue, her stomach growled. “That cinnamon bun was hours and hours ago. You have to be hungry.” He was starving, not for food but for her. He wanted to kiss her, to stroke her subtle curves, learn what made her moan.
In one practiced motion, she yanked her crossbow from the wall and aimed it at him. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pull the trigger.”
Yup, she was still pissed. He’d exposed her vulnerability, not just by his actions but by her
response to his presence in her bed.
“Bloodstains are hard to get out of carpet.” He’d hoped to coax a smile from her, but her lips thinned.
“It’s only a throw rug. I can toss it and scrub the hardwood beneath. And if I throw your sorry ass in the street, I won’t need cops or paperwork. Now how did you get in here?” She shoved her hand in her coat pocket and pulled out her keys, dangling them in front of him before jamming them into her front pocket.
Holding his hands up in surrender, he shrugged. “I didn’t take them. I’m good with locks.” Understatement. He was more powerful than she could even begin to comprehend. There weren’t many places he couldn’t get into if he put his mind to it.
“You do it again and you’ll be sorry.”
The hurt in her eyes cut him deeply. He’d taken away her sense of security. That was unforgivable. If he could go back and change things, he would. “I give you my word.” If it came to it, he’d camp out in her hallway or in front of her building, but he would not enter her space without invitation.
When she lowered the crossbow, he took it from her and set it back on its rack. “I only wanted to protect you.”
“I can take care of myself.” The flat tone and the way she turned away told him she was done talking about it. “Any news from your friend?”
Right, time to get back to business. He pulled out his phone. “No word yet.”
“Can we go see him? Is he nearby?” She shoved her feet into her boots.
“He’s in Manhattan, but one does not simply go up to his door and knock.” He slid the phone back into his pocket. “No one is supposed to know where he lives.”
“But you do.”
“I’m special.”
She rolled her eyes and checked her wallet before stuffing it into her back pocket.
“I saw that.” The twitch of her lips lightened the burden of guilt pressing down on him. “It’s one of those situations where if you know where he lives, he’ll have to kill you.”
She gave a quick laugh and then sobered. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“Nope.” Maccus wasn’t the kind of guy you kidded with. That would lead to a swift and timely death.
“You’re still alive,” she pointed out. Before he could answer, she raised her hand. “I know. You’re special.”
The sarcasm might have been thick, but he grinned. “I knew you’d eventually admit it.”
“Just who the hell is this guy?” She tucked a knife into her boot and one into a sheath at her spine. She was his kind of woman.
“Let’s continue our discussion over some food. My treat.” He swirled his leather duster on, opened the front door, and held it. “After you.”
“Are we going somewhere that has tight security or can I take my gun?”
“If it makes you feel better, by all means, take it.” He’d make sure she wouldn’t have any problems.
“That doesn’t tell me where we’re going.” With a shrug, she put on her shoulder harness, checking her 9mm before putting her coat on over it.
It was spring, but not so warm that they’d look out of place in their long leather dusters. Summer was a bitch for hiding weapons.
“You have anywhere in mind to eat?” she asked.
“Your neighborhood, your choice.”
“You might regret that.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Risking her ire, he pressed his hand against the small of her back. She shot him a glare and picked up the pace, forcing him to keep up.
Chapter Six
Something flickered in Asher’s awareness as he strolled down the sidewalk with Jo beside him. It was gone before he could pinpoint it. He stopped and slowly surveyed the area. There was nothing threatening. Not now. But for the briefest second, he’d caught a blast of malevolence that had been directed their way. Even more unsettling? It had felt familiar in some way.
“What is it?” She scanned the busy street.
“Did you sense anything?” Maybe it had been nothing, but he’d lived too long to discount his instincts.
“No.”
His awareness was heightened, but he tried not to let his concern overpower the sheer pleasure of the moment.
“Tell me about yourself?” She was wound tighter than a spring, cataloging her surroundings, her body primed to leap into action if necessary. He hoped conversation would help her relax. Plus, he wanted to know everything about her.
“What do you want to know?” Her tone was clipped, and suspicion clouded her beautiful eyes.
“Not your deepest darkest secrets,” he assured her. He did, but it was best to start slowly and work up to them. “How about we start with something simple? What do you do to unwind?” he asked as they started walking again. “In the interest of fairness, I’ll go first. I watch all the Real Housewives shows, the Bachelor, and any other reality show.” They were vastly entertaining. Like live theater.
“You do know that none of them have anything to do with reality.” She might be frowning but there was a slight twinkle of humor in her amazing eyes.
“Most would say the same about your reality,” he pointed out. “That’s even if they believed it, which most wouldn’t.” The bulk of the population didn’t believe in vampires and werewolves and things-that-go-bump-in-the-night outside the movies or books.
“True, but still.” She turned left and kept walking. He had no idea where they were going and didn’t care. Whatever they did was fine by him, as long as they were together.
“What about you?” he asked again. Did she have some secret vice or hobby she indulged?
“It’s just up here.” Avoiding the question, she pointed out a small diner. “It doesn’t look like much, but you can get a great all-day breakfast anytime, day or night.”
“Jo, what do you do to unwind?”
Pausing by the door, she scowled. “I don’t, all right? I can’t afford to let down my guard for even a second.”
That made him unaccountably sad. He ran his hand over her hair, unsure who he was trying to comfort, her or himself. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She jerked her head so he was no longer touching her before she gripped the handle and yanked the door open.
What had her life been like that she couldn’t relax enough to enjoy a single hobby? She was already sliding into a booth at the far end, taking the seat that put her back against the wall. It was an ingrained a habit as breathing.
Several people stared, but they were of no consequence, only nosy. He took the one opposite her, unconcerned that anyone would be able to sneak up on him. Not with her on watch.
“You enjoy music, don’t you?” He’d seen the audio system back at her place.
“Who doesn’t?”
Her reluctance to give up even the slightest detail about her life made him even more curious. Letting it go for now, he plucked the laminated menu from between the napkin holder and condiments. “What’s good?”
He didn’t miss her sigh of relief before she answered, “Everything.”
“Coffee?” The waitress was beside their table, a half-full pot in hand.
“Yes, please.” Jo flipped over her cup. He did the same. “I’ll have the pancakes with bacon.”
“Do you know what you want?” the waitress asked him as she poured. “Or do you need more time?”
“I’ll have the same.” It didn’t really matter to him. And if it was a favorite of Jo’s, he wanted to try it.
After adding sugar to her coffee, she took a sip. Elbows on the table, she studied him over her cup. “How did you become a hunter?”
He tried to figure out the best way to put it and still be honest. “I was born into it, I guess you could say.”
“That’s tough.” She set her cup down and wrapped her fingers around it.
“How about you?” Most fell in
to it after something very bad usually happened to them or someone they loved.
“When I was a teenager, I discovered there were monsters in the world.”
He wanted to know every detail but pushing would only make her shut down. “Why didn’t you walk away? You could have had a normal life.” It’s what most did. They buried their horror-filled memories and tried to forget.
The other path, the one less taken, was dark. And once you started down it, there was no way back.
“Someone has to kill them.” Such a simple answer, yet it said everything he needed to know about her.
“Yes, someone does,” he agreed.
The waitress returned with two plates loaded with a pile of pancakes and a side of bacon. They chatted about inconsequential things as they polished off the food and indulged in another cup of coffee.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked as she absently shoved her empty plate aside. “You’re not staying with me again.”
“You going to hold that against me?” What he really wanted was to hold her against him. His pants grew uncomfortably tight.
“Yes. You shouldn’t have been able to get inside.” Her lips turned down and furrows formed between her brows.
To keep her from delving any deeper into that line of thinking, he distracted her. “Why don’t you stay with me for a couple of days? I have the space.”
“I’m not moving in with you.”
“You’d be there when Maccus finally does make contact.”
“If he does. You said he might not.” She was quick with a reply. Bantering with her was fun.
“True, but in the meantime, you can watch me display my hacking prowess while I try to figure out where the original email came from.” That might lure her to accept his offer.
Their phones vibrated at the same time. As hunters, they mostly kept their ringtones turned off, so they didn’t go off at a most inopportune time. He pulled his out and studied the screen. “Another email. Unknown sender.”
“The same. Someone is playing games with us.”
Dread snaked down his spine, an icy shiver that turned his blood cold. The malevolence from earlier echoed, almost like a laugh in his mind. Someone was indeed playing a very deadly game.
Burning Ash (Forgotten Brotherhood) Page 5
