“Oscar made me run for miles. I hated his regimens with a passion. But after the first few months of training, I took pleasure in the incredible peacefulness here.” She shared a small part of her past with him, knowing he’d understand. “The fight is worth the price to keep this place safe.”
Caly paused, unable to put her feelings into words. “I want to come here when I am eighty and find it unchanged, unsoiled by the evil that hunkers so close to the gates.”
“Do I feel evil?”
For once, she didn’t think of him as a demon or part of her mission. He didn’t move after he asked the question, but the stillness in itself clued her in to how much her answer meant to him. The arms around her remained strong and steady. In truth, they had saved her life. The face next to hers looked over the valley, and Caly reached back, removing his glasses.
His gaze snapped to hers.
Those dark eyes that never let any detail escape now had a crack. A light blazed from within, a meager hope to be seen as something other than the enemy, something other than evil. The intensity bore into her like he wanted to read the truth of his question in her soul.
The thought prickled her skin. Unable to turn completely in the limited space on the bike, she reached behind her and touched his hair. The texture was unlike anything she’d ever felt. The thick strands tangled with her fingers, the length wrapped around her wrist, inviting her to explore further. Her mouth watered at the smell of black licorice, and she licked her lips, craving a taste.
Her strange affinity for the candy the last few days now made sense. The man had followed her, leaving behind his scent and a strange yearning she couldn’t fulfill no matter how much licorice she consumed.
Because of him.
Unable to deny herself the chance to touch him, she traced his ear from top to bottom before she trailed her fingertips slowly, carefully down his cheek. Rough stubble scraped her skin and a shiver worked through her. With her thumb, she touched his lips. Once. Briefly.
He shuddered under the touch.
Her lips tingled in response, craving what she couldn’t have. Chest heavy, scarcely able to catch her breath, Caly dropped her hand and faced forward. “No, you don’t feel evil.”
She feared that he might actually be telling the truth about being an angel, which made their actions all the more foolish.
Not wanting to deal with the consequences of what she started, she revved the Harley. “Hang on.” With a roar, they barreled down the road toward town. The wind didn’t beat away her thoughts like before, but the speed forced her to focus on things other than her libido.
Or the questions he’d failed to answer about his past. Ones she had been too afraid to ask.
* * *
The building stood empty, a ribbon of yellow police tape stretched across the doorway. Ruman studied the abandoned warehouse. The others had arrived before them and secured the place.
When a patrol car turned the block, Caly shoved her delicate hand into his, and they walked past the door.
Ruman looked down at their interlocked fingers, his chest oddly tight to see her small fingers laced with his. Skin roughened from years of training met his touch. Faint lines crisscrossed her hands, a testimony to her determination to master her beloved knives. Her affinity for them showed in the way she took care of her weapons, and her ability to keep all her fingers. He traced a wicked scar on the outside of her thumb, followed the jagged path to the underside of her hand. Her muscles twitched.
Fascinated with her response, he raised their hands. Only to come to an abrupt stop when she jerked them down again.
“What are you doing?” Caly hissed the words, her smile all teeth. But instead of looking at him, she glanced over his shoulder at the way they had come. “The cops are gone.”
Like he had a disease, she dropped his hand and marched away. He understood the need to look inconspicuous.
He did.
Their life would be in danger the longer they remained in the open.
It didn’t matter. He wanted her hand back in his. He wanted to feel that connection with her again.
A shudder seized him, and he shook his head like a dog. Things were getting to him. He went from being repulsed by the thought of touching a human to craving just one small touch of affection from her. She got to him with only one look from those forest green eyes that hid so much. When she turned the corner, he hurried to catch up.
He should remain alert, ready to save her life and fulfill his requirement. Yet, even as he thought the words, he couldn’t remove his gaze from the way her backside fit the leather chaps. The way her muscles flexed and moved. The way she fitted so perfectly against him on the bike.
His gaze came to rest on the blades strapped to her leg. It should have sobered him, reminded him of his duty. Instead, it turned him on further. He remembered how she fought and wrestled with him not two days ago.
The feel of her stretched out beneath him, taut and totally focused on only him. Her tight muscles pressed against his. Her body made for his.
The image of her like that again, waiting for him, stopped him in his tracks.
A cold chill like a breath of ice touched the base of his skull, spread over the back of his neck, and down to his shoulders. Angels had been cast out of Heaven for lusting after the daughters of Adam. It may have happened many centuries ago, but he did not intend to join their ranks.
He couldn’t make this personal. Angels never made anything personal. He had a job to do, and it was about time he kept his mind on the task at hand and not on some female.
Some human.
He’d keep his distance from Caly. It was the only way he’d keep his sanity. And maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to keep his thoughts, not to mention his hands, off her for once.
As they entered the warehouse, the coppery scent of death and decay saturated the air.
The muscles of his face hardened. The demon part of him relished the scent of blood, drew him against his will. The rest of him couldn’t help be repelled by the same craving. A lead ball filled his stomach and rose to his throat, leaving a searing cold emptiness in its wake.
Ruman tried to maintain his objectivity as he tracked the evidence of battle, but one thought refused to be banished. Could it be possible he’d been away from home so long that he’d developed the traits of the demons and humans around him? That horrible thought took a fierce grip on his mind, circling like flies on the particularly nasty stain that wouldn’t be scrubbed away.
“What do you think?” The voice spoke from the shadows.
Ruman didn’t have to turn to know Henry stood only feet behind him, waiting for an answer. He was almost grateful for the distraction.
Almost.
Unsure how honest an answer he should give, Ruman asked a vague question of his own. “About what?”
“I thought you were the expert. That is why you are here, isn’t it?” The words came out jeeringly, and Henry cast a quick, speculative glance at Caly. “Or did you come for another reason altogether, I wonder?”
Henry strutted off like a puffed up rooster. Ruman said nothing. He had only come for Caly, but not for the reason Henry assumed.
The more he studied the scene, the more his brows lowered. Confusion darkened his mind. How could anyone have survived? This wasn’t a war. It was an annihilation. Blood had been washed away, but the stains remained. On the floor, the walls, everywhere.
Everything was destroyed. Chairs overturned, walls ripped away to show the harsh exterior bricks. No room was left untouched. Not a single item left undestroyed.
The smell of death hung in the air, a presence in and of itself. The sickly sweet smell of demon, combined with the salty sweat of human fear made him hyperaware of his surroundings and eager for the hunt.
Demons might be vicious, but this was different, beyond their normal behavior. It was almost like they were searching for something and ripped apart the people who got in their way. For centuries, demons and humans h
ad co-existed. Whatever caused this had tipped the balance.
He needed to find answers, and quick, before the rest of the group died and his salvation with it. His gaze unerringly rested on Caly. He watched her take in the devastation and realized her safety had started to mean more to him than his reinstatement.
Chapter Thirteen
Henry watched in disgust as they crawled over the warehouse, searching for more failures they could blame on him. Each accusatory look fed the boiling rage under his skin, and his muscles tightened as he restrained himself from lashing out.
If Caly hadn’t pushed him, she would’ve been his second-in-command and none of this would’ve happened. Instead, she ran like the coward she accused him of being.
This was her fault.
She promised she wouldn’t split the group, and the first thing she did was steal them out from under his command.
She made him look weak.
Blood pounded dully in his head in a persistent, monotonous way ever since the incident, fraying his temper worse. It was his place to rule. He’d bled for it. Killed for it. He hadn’t suffered years of abuse from that bastard only to lose it to her now.
She’d played a good game, but he wasn’t done yet. All he had to do was catch the culprit, and he would be back on top again. One big win, and the team would see their mistake and put him back in charge.
Henry paced the cement floor. Sweat stung his eyes as he racked his brain for a solution. Nothing inside the warehouse would help him get ahead. He slipped outside, the wind doing little to cool his blood. He increased his stride, quickly turning the corner.
And tripped over some idiot too stupid to get out of his way.
“Hey, watch where you’re going, asshole!” A blonde woman who couldn’t be more than five feet tall, slim but curvy, so a man knew what to do with her, glared at him from where he knocked her on her ass next to her yellow mustang.
Her brilliant blue eyes zeroed in on him like lasers, knocking his thought process all to hell.
“I didn’t see you there.” He bent to help her rise. A breeze caught her hair and swung the long blonde strands toward him, carrying to him the scent of strawberries. All his pent up anger funneled into pure lust without a single touch.
“Obviously.” The blonde scrambled to her feet on her own with another glare at him and hefted the tire iron she held. “Kind of hard to miss me and a whole frickin car.”
Only Caly ever made him feel like such an ass. Other woman had always adored him. Her lack of response raised his suspicion. He looked at the flat tire she was trying to change and saw that debris from the earlier fight had indeed spilled over onto the road.
The woman fitted the tire iron to the wheel and heaved. To no effect. “Here, let me.”
“I got it.”
“So I see.” Henry smirked and crossed his arms, enjoying the way her ass bounced as she wrestled with the bolts.
In reply, he got a glare. “Perv. This isn’t a peep show.” The petite woman stood and pursed her lips as she got a good look at him.
Henry smiled at her predicament.
In response, she thrust the iron at him. “The least you could do is change my tire for the look you stole.”
Henry snorted, not lifting a finger. “Honey, I’m not sure that little look was worth it.”
Her eyes heated with a hint of wrath. She put one hand on her hip, accentuating those breasts. “What do you want?”
“Dinner.”
When she hesitated, he narrowed his eyes a little. No woman turned down a free meal, especially with him.
As if sensing his thoughts, humor lightened her eyes. “Agreed, but you pay for the meal and change my tire.” Her fine hair shimmered in the light at her nod and her red lips curved into a beautiful smile as if she was the one that caught him. It took no little imagination to know what a mouth like hers could do to a man’s body.
“I’m Henry.” He reached for the tire iron and missed it when she leaned over to sit on the spare tire and he got a clear look down her shirt. She took that moment to look up at him from under dark lashes, a knowing look in her eyes. Heat burned his face, and he felt like an untried boy caught with his hands down his pants.
“Felicia.”
The tire was changed in under fifteen minutes. When he stood, he was surprised to see the team leave the building. Not wanting the others to see him with Felicia, he slammed the trunk shut and hustled her around the car, doing his best to cram her into the passenger side.
“Hey, hands off, buster.” She twisted out of his hold, shoving her hands against his chest hard enough to knock him against the side of the car. Red nails scored down the front of his chest so deep he sucked in a breath. “If anyone gets to be a little rough, it’s me.”
Something about her tweaked his radar despite her distracting touch. He couldn’t help wonder if she knew something about what happened earlier tonight.
No one randomly came down this street. Henry relaxed and flashed a smile at her that had been known to get women all hot and bothered. “You never said what you were doing here.”
She lost her smile, and her nails dug in a little farther. “Neither did you.”
Henry grabbed her wrist but didn’t push it away. “I live here.”
Her nails retracted a little, but she didn’t pull away from his hold on her. “I heard about the attack on the police scanner. I’ve been tracking these types of incidents throughout the city. They stole something of mine, and I’m determined to get it back.”
“Alone? Do you know how dangerous—”
“They’re demons. I know.” She nodded to the van where the rest of the crew stood. “Just as I know he’s one as well.”
Henry turned and saw her nod at Ruman. Of course. He was an idiot. It made perfect sense. It galled him that he hadn’t made the connection himself.
Caly was consorting with a demon.
That’s why his group had been attacked while hers survived without a scratch. The creature probably gave the order.
She and Oscar were always fifty steps ahead. This time he would be. But he needed proof to convince the others. He could take the guy out, but Caly was one of his few equals on the team. She’d cut him down even before the dust settled. No, he’d strategize…just like she wanted him to.
“Come, you and I have a lot to discuss.” Henry released her wrist and opened the car door for her. “Let’s get dinner. You can tell me how you’re able to see demons.”
The chit’s arm shot out when he would’ve shut the door. “And you will tell me what happened here tonight.”
Plans swirled in his mind, and he smiled, relishing the prospect of exposing Caly. She would finally get what she had coming to her, and he would get his team back.
* * *
“I need to know what happened in that warehouse. Opinions, anyone?” Back at the farm, Caly and the troops sat in the too-quiet kitchen. The coffee was generously distributed, the snacks rested uneaten. Well, by everyone except for Kelly. If they were there, she’d eat them.
Knowing her people were safe eased off some of the weight of the elephant that had taken up residence on her chest. When no one answered, she looked across the room.
Ruman stood with his arms crossed, his body propped against the door jamb, gazing down at the floor as if bored. Silent and brooding, he hadn’t spoke to her or said boo to anyone for that matter, since they’d left the warehouse.
The way he shut her out left her cold. That’s why she didn’t date. She didn’t need the added stress of someone else’s mood swings on top of everything else. And they said females had PMS.
Caly brushed aside the small hurt at his withdrawal, quickly labeling it as annoyance. He knew something, and he wasn’t sharing. She touched the handle of her knife for reassurance then set down the ceramic cup. “This attack was similar to the temple. Kamikaze. They seemed to be searching for something and didn’t care if there were casualties.”
“Blood.”
&n
bsp; Ruman’s one word scattered her thoughts like ash. Flashes of the temple walls winged through her mind. “Why?”
Suspicious danced in her mind. Unwilling for the others to know why until she pinned it down, Caly kept her gaze on Ruman’s eyes. Eyes so dark that not even a speck of light pierced their depths. Dark enough to hide his secrets.
“I don’t know.” He gave a negligible shrug like the answer didn’t matter.
Caly straightened away from the counter, and strode around the table, struggling to hold onto her temper. He knew something, and he would damn well tell them. “Why the blood?” She shook her head. “What’s in the blood?”
Tightlipped, Ruman met her gaze squarely and kept stubbornly quiet.
“Why our group? Why were we lured to the temple? Why was the compound attacked?” The control she used to keep her anger in check fractured. She poked at his chest, aiming to gain any kind of response from him. Some sort of emotion. He was shutting her out, and damned if she’d let him. He had no right. “Who are they searching for that they’d risk exposure?”
Lightning fast, he caught her hand and dragged her close. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” He lowered his head, his breath hot on her face. The smell of licorice enveloped her, sharpening her hunger. “My job is to protect you, nothing else.”
Stunned at his blunt disclosure, Caly jerked her attention from the curve of his lips to his eyes. The callousness of his words stole what little warmth she had left. Whatever he saw in her expression caused his own to darken. With a curse, he dropped her hand, stepped back and disappeared in the darkness before she could form a reply.
“That went well.” Kelly’s comeback jolted her into action.
“Get back here, buster. We’re not finished.” Caly tore after him, her boots thumping on the warped wooden floors. How dare he start a fight then think he could simply walk away. Her eyes reluctantly adjusted to the sudden absence of light. Near the front door, she cocked her head and waited for a sound to expose his location.
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