He grunted, clearly not pleased with her fascination. “What movie?”
“Never mind.” He felt so human to her at times that she forgot movie references would be alien to him. She rubbed her arms, the distance he put between them a physical chill that put a nip in the air.
When she glanced up again, it was to see his back disappearing out the door. Disheartened by his lack of response to her, she stared unblinkingly down at the blade without really seeing anything. What did she expect? That the kiss had changed things between them?
To avoid moping, Caly threw back the covers, a little surprised to find herself dressed in just her bra and panties. She shucked on the first pair of pants she snatched from the dresser then slipped her standard t-shirt over her head, her attention drawn to the mysterious piece of paper on the floor.
Curiosity got the best of her. Pulling the shirt down, she went to investigate.
The small square was folded in half. She picked it up, noticing the crease worn to the point of falling apart. She smoothed open the glossy image and stopped in shock to see herself staring back at her. The picture she’d tossed in the fireplace.
The floor outside her room creaked.
Caly hurriedly closed the picture and tucked it into the side cushion of the chair. For some reason it was important that he didn’t know she’d found it. It felt too much like looking into a stranger’s underwear drawer, but the thin ice that had crept over the edges of her heart warmed. He still cared.
The door opened without a knock. She whirled, crouched with the dagger poised to strike.
“Whoa, it’s just me.” Jarred held up one hand, the other held his medical bag. He stopped with one foot in the room.
“Sorry.” A little disconcerted at his observation, Caly turned toward the dresser and rummaged inside in search of a sheath to avoid his too probing stare. “What do you want?”
“There’s my friendly Caly.” He closed the door and crossed the room. He set the bag on the bed and sat next to it, waiting patiently.
Unsatisfied with the selection, Caly slammed the drawer. “What?” Exasperated at the hide and seek, she turned to face him. He wanted something from her, and she’d be damned if she’d let him beat around the bush about it.
“You were unconscious for days. We were preparing ourselves for another funeral.”
“Days?” Her throat croaked. What the hell happened? Ears ringing, Caly whispered, “How long was I here?”
“Two days. The poor guy was frantic when he called, saying he couldn’t wake you. He had to travel with your body to Spain, then to France before he finally managed to charter a plane willing to take the medical risk to transport you back to the US.”
Skepticism trickled through her. That wasn’t the Ruman she knew. Her life meant his salvation, that’s all. He barely tolerated her. He almost appeared to hate being near her the way he avoided her. But then there were the times when she would catch him staring at her in complete bafflement. Not to mention their kiss.
Her heart dipped then jumped up in her throat. Despite knowing about her past, could he care for her? She pushed aside that thought and how desperately she wished it were so.
“You’ve been out for four days. He hasn’t left your side.” Jarred opened his bag. “And none of the tests I ran on you showed any sign of disease or sickness.” He held up a vial of blood. “The only anomaly is this.”
Like a pendulum on a clock, he rocked the vial back and forth. “Your blood has changed.”
Disbelief froze the denial that climbed in her throat. She would’ve called him a liar, but Jarred never lied. Caly licked her suddenly dry lips, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer. “Changed how?”
He placed the vial back into his pack with precious care as if it were the elixir from the Fountain of Youth. “I’m not sure. The blood type’s the same, but the chemical make-up is skewed. If I didn’t know you, I’d say you weren’t the same person who’d left here.”
“What the hell do you mean? You know who I am.” She refused to allow her hurt to show. After everything she’d been through, all the sacrifices, how could they doubt her? The implications of his statement ate away the last of her frayed nerves. They must have found out about the demon infection. It was the only answer.
Jarred took her triad, studying her like he was trying to see inside her head. “You’re the leader of our merry band of demon hunters. Always will be.” His half smile faded, and he nodded to her hand. “But since you came into contact with that thing, you’ve changed, adapted to it. I want to make sure that thing isn’t killing you despite what might seem like a blessing.”
So they didn’t know yet. That didn’t make her feel any better lying to them, even if it was for their own good. Caly crossed her arms protectively over the blade. “How?”
The door opened with a bang. Ruman stood there, his body rigid. “He wants to run some tests.”
Caly stepped away from them. She wouldn’t let them take Carnwennan from her.
“What kind of tests?” Gaze glued to Ruman, Caly couldn’t repress a shiver. She’d never seen him so furious. He masked his emotions so well, she’d often wondered if he felt anything.
Jarred stepped between them. “An unknown agent, a metal, has been found in your blood. Every time I try to extract it,” he shrugged, “it breaks down and is absorbed back into the blood without a trace. If I can narrow it down, I can determine if it’s killing you or if it’s something that can be duplicated.” He raised the syringe, silently asking for permission.
Caly forced herself to relax and submit.
“Done.” Jarred packed his bag.
“Let me know what you find.”
He looked at her over his shoulders. “Of course.” He shook his head and cracked the first genuine smile she’d seen since he entered the room. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Caly watched him grab his bag to leave. Her life was complicated enough. She didn’t know if she could handle more.
Jarred paused at the door. “Not only do you come back from the dead, you’re healthier than you have ever been in your life. Since you have never been sick, that’s impressive. Even your scars have disappeared.”
Caly glanced down at her arms to see that the white scars she’d received as a result of the car accident were gone. So were the ones Oscar had inflicted. She hesitantly touched the skin, marveling at the smoothness, uncertain how to feel to have something that had been so much a part of her identity erased.
The door snicked shut. She slowly lifted her head to find Ruman’s gaze fastened on her. All of the sudden, the room felt too small. He leaned against the wall, looking anything but casual. She forced her muscles to loosen, waiting for him to move first.
“Put down the knife.”
At the gravelly tone of his voice, she unconsciously tightened her hold. “Why?”
He straightened, stalking toward her with a predatory look that heated her body and called to something visceral in her.
“Do it.” The growl splashed through her system like two-hundred proof vodka.
Caly reluctantly did as told and set the weapon on the dresser. With her hands free, she feared she’d yank him toward her and take what she wanted.
Before she could so much as twitch, Ruman had her by her shoulders, his lips mashed to hers with more exuberance than finesse.
His mouth all but attacked hers, sucking, nibbling, tempting her to reciprocate. Unable to resist the onslaught, she grabbed his shoulders and hung on tight as the world dropped away. Then there was only him. The hunger to taste all of him consumed her, and she tangled her tongue with his.
As soon as she returned his caress, the kiss gentled.
He wound a fistful of her hair around his hand and drew her head back, startling her into gasping his name. Neck strained, chest heaving, she stared up at him.
Naked hunger and pain filled his eyes. His ferocious expression had a frightening aspect to it. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.
”
As much as she could, Caly nodded. His hold eased, his touch fell away as his hands slipped down her hair. Then he closed down. Though he didn’t release her completely, he put a distance between them she couldn’t bridge.
If she didn’t do something now, Ruman would never allow her close again. Taking advantage of his distraction, Caly looped her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his waist. While he staggered under her extra weight, she tugged at the tie holding his hair prisoner.
“I believe this is mine.” Without giving him time to speak, she wove her fingers through his dark hair, luxuriating in the right to touch him.
Copying him, she yanked back his head and slanted her mouth over his. But instead of a hurried, rushed kiss, she took her time exploring him, the taste of him drawing her further under his spell. Sweet black licorice filled her senses. She didn’t think she could ever get enough.
She released his mouth and worked her way to his jaw, nibbling on his ear before sliding her lips down his neck. One of his hands supported her, while the other slipped under her shirt. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin, heat searing her at the barely there touch.
She tightened her legs to get closer, then sucked in a startled breath to feel his thick arousal.
Ruman’s hands moved to her hips and clamped down hard to prevent her from moving. Caly bit back a whimper of denied lust.
She looked up, and her breathing hitched at the wonder etched on his face. Slowly, watching his every reaction, she arched, pressing her lower body into his. The friction was painfully delicious, shutting down her brain. Instinct took over.
His fingers bit into her hips, his head tipped back, leaving her all that chest to explore. She slid a hand over the contours of him, marveling at the sleek muscles, enjoying the way he watched her under hooded eyes. Her palms tingled at the touch, and she resisted the urge to reach lower. He had a body that deserved to be savored slowly.
“Ever since I saw you as a statue, I wanted to touch you.” She traced his chest lightly with her fingernail, enjoying the way he tensed.
She lowered her head and kissed the skin exposed at the collar of his shirt. Giving into temptation, she rocked into him, biting back a groan of exquisite pleasure. His growl of approval sent another wave of near desperate need roaring through her.
She stilled, savoring the sensations bombarding her. Using her distraction, he ducked his head, his lips whispering across her neck. Caly tilted her head to allow him better access. A sharp sting followed when his teeth nipped at her, turning her insides to mush.
All her plans of going slow evaporated.
Her body craved him now.
He nuzzled her neck, sending a ripple of lust down her spine to pool between her thighs. She tightened her legs, her fingers clawing at him for more. Then he moved, ratcheting up her need to feel him skin to skin. The room spun, and she found herself on the bed, spread out beneath him.
She yanked up his shirt, frantic to reach his flesh. Muscles rippled under her touch. Heat singed her palms, and she reached for more, eager to burn. Caly arched under him, needing to feel his weight. Desperate to touch and be touched. When he didn’t move fast enough, she hooked her leg around his hip, then twisted, flipping him on his back.
Straddling his hips, Caly splayed one hand on his chest, relishing the feel of his dark eyes on her. The wound on his arm was gone, only a slight discoloration remained. Instead of cold stone that warmed under her touch, this man was flesh and blood.
Hers.
She scraped her nails down his chest, enjoying the way his skin pebbled. Faint lines lingered from her ministrations. She liked her mark on him.
Caly set her mouth to his chest, caressed him until he grew restless then pushed him for more. A large hand cupped the back of her head, dragging her higher, bringing her face up to his. His mouth ravaged hers like he was starved for her taste. The way he wove his fingers through her hair and held her close made her feel precious. Made her feel not so alone in the world.
Caly pulled away and stared into the eyes that haunted her dreams, made her want, made her feel desirable. That he allowed her to do what she wanted made her feel that anything she did would please him as long as she didn’t stop. It was sexy as hell.
Now she wanted to see if she could break his control. Leaning back, she grasped the bottom of her shirt then yanked it off.
She smoothed out his fists then placed his hands on her waist. The touch was electric. Ruman jacked upright, kissing her with a skill that left her stupid. She dragged her nails down his back, eager to touch all of him and make him hers.
Ruman’s mouth left hers. He stared at her breasts, hunger darkening his eyes to sable.
“Please.” Caly couldn’t prevent the plea.
Before the word left her lips, his mouth latched onto her breast through the fabric of her bra. Fiery pleasure seared her. Muscles rigid, Caly pushed herself forward, offering more. Offering herself.
Pain streaked up her right arm, robbing her of breath. “Stop.”
Ruman instantly stilled.
Caly panted, and the muscles in her hand went rigid. “Something’s wrong.”
Chapter Twenty
Sensations flooded his mind with each touch, blinding Ruman to everything but Caly. With her in his arms, he had everything he needed to be at peace with his choices in life. But the tormented look on her face stopped him cold. “Caly?”
“Shhh.” Caly held up a hand, her head tilted, listening to something only she could hear.
Her expression eased, and the tiny dart of panic that gripped him faded. Ruman marveled at his emotions, the desire to do anything to keep her safe and in his arms. Emotions he shouldn’t be able to feel. Emotions he’d always thought mortals were foolish to cling to when it endangered their chance at eternity.
Caly leapt off the bed. “Get dressed.” She grabbed her shirt, fitted it over her head, and drew it down, covering all her lovely flesh. He almost whimpered. From the heated look she gave him, maybe he had.
When she showed no signs of re-joining him, he sat, wincing the way his pants tried to strangle his arousal. Ruman locked his gaze on her, not liking how completely she pulled away from him. “What is it?”
“I heard something.” A feverish light entered her eyes. In a lunge, she palmed the dagger and darted out the door.
“Wait.” But she was already gone.
“Woman.” Huffing under his breath, he shrugged back into his shirt and chased after her. He refused to let her out of his sight. Not after the last few days of hell.
He didn’t see that she’d stopped at the landing and bumped into her with enough force to knock her off the top step. He grasped her waist, yanking her back to his chest in time to save her from taking a header down the steps. When he opened his mouth to apologize, harsh voices erupted from the kitchen.
“She’s not been the same since the temple and the death of her team. We barely survived the last attack, and she left us to go on some mission to find an angel to solve all our problem.”
Each word sent his anger flaring. He tightened his hold on her as if to protect her from the hurtful words. She stiffened, her eyes became shuttered, locking him out again. A snarl worked its way up his throat. Ruman picked up Caly, set her aside, and stalked toward the kitchen.
“Leave it alone. It doesn’t matter.”
The way her voice caught, the way she tried to cover her pain, infuriated him.
It mattered to him.
And it would damn well matter to them.
He slammed open the door with enough force that wood cracked. A number of the members jumped, weapons clutched in their hands. From one to the next, Ruman glared at each person, wishing he could smack the stupid out of them. He would’ve if he didn’t think it would upset Caly.
“You should be ashamed of yourself. You lose your home, almost your lives and come here begging for a helping hand. She offered you protection with no questions. Now, when she’s inj
ured, you want to turn your backs on her and sit like a committee judging her. Why? Because of his word?” He jerked his head in Henry’s direction without turning. He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t rip his fool head off just by looking at him.
“They have the right to learn the truth.” His self-righteous voice reverberated in the silent room.
Every person froze when Ruman slowly turned.
“Ruman, enough.” Caly’s hand settled on his arm. The faint tremble in her fingers snapped the last of his restraint. No one had the right to abuse her.
“No.” In a swift turn, he loomed over her, his face less than an inch from hers. “You’ve risked your life for these people for years. Sacrificed everything for them. In the jungle, this paragon left you and an old man to fight and die alone.”
Henry’s eyes narrowed, shooting daggers at Caly. When she opened her mouth to protest, Ruman growled. “I was there. I saw it happen. Don’t you dare defend him.”
With a vengeance, he turned dark, fathomless eyes on the group. “Caly didn’t tell anyone the old man’s last words, that he meant for her to lead the group. Now I think I understand why she kept quiet. You’re not worth it.”
“Caly?” Kelly stood with a look of confusion on her face.
Caly’s chest ached at the hurt expression. A spurt of panic invaded her mind that everything she’d worked for was disintegrating. If she lost this, she had nothing.
“The group was already splintering.” Caly glared at Ruman, resisting the urge to slap the back of his head. “To undermine everything further would’ve left it in ruins.” And she didn’t want the damned position. She was a soldier, not a leader. She couldn’t have people depending on her, she couldn’t be responsible for their lives or deaths. Not when she couldn’t guarantee she wasn’t the biggest threat of all.
Henry shifted closer to Ruman, and all her senses went on alert. Used to his underhanded tricks, Caly let him bait the trap and waited, resisting the urge clawing at her to protect what was hers.
It happened fast, quicker than she could’ve guessed. “Watch your left.”
The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel) Page 18
