From somewhere in the apartment, Reagan yelped, letting fly a string of curses.
I jumped out of bed and bolted down the hallway as if demons were on my tail. I found her in the kitchen, her back to me. Completely and utterly stark—
The carpet tripped me up and pulled me down. I was up in a flash, scanning the immediate surroundings for the threat.
Reagan glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows pulled together. “Everything okay?”
“No. Yeah,” I panted. Why am I panting? I pointed at her hand. “Why do you have a weapon?”
“These?” She waved the silver object around, clacking the ends. “Tongs. I’m making bacon. You want some?”
I raked a hand through my hair, looking everywhere but at her. Bacon. Bacon. Why did that sound familiar?
“I don’t know. I just—” I cut off when she turned back around and I caught a glimpse of that long, naked spine. That blazing red and orange Phoenix wrapped around her—
Crap.
I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “Are you sure you’re not in danger? I heard you yell.”
“Oh, that?” She waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I should know better than to cook bacon after patrol. I’m far too hungry to fuss with clothing.” She snickered. “I’m covered in tiny grease burns, you’d think I’d learn. But yes, I’m perfectly fine.”
I sputtered as my gaze drew downward again. What was wrong with me? Then my mind latched onto a word she said. Burns. I sucked in sharply, stepping nearer. “Let me see.”
“Why? They’re teeny. You can’t even see them. Seriously, they’re my own fault. After patrol I’m lazy, hungry, and man, can you smell this bacon? Worth it.”
My eyes rolled to the ceiling and I inwardly groaned. Stubborn woman. Always thinking she deserved the pain others inflicted on her. “I’ve heard of bacon, but what is it exactly? A fire-breathing pet? Do I need to stab this thing with a scalpel too?”
Reagan turned around, a strip of—was that leather?—in her mouth. She ripped a chunk off with her teeth, chewing as she said, “Seriously? You don’t know what bacon is? Try this.” She held out the strip.
I raised my hands, palms out, and took a slow step back. “Whoa, there. Hold on a sec. Is that meat? ‘Cause that’s a shifter thing, not a Fae—” My stomach lurched as I thought about what she had done. “Are you eating your pet?”
She fidgeted with the stove’s burner, lowering the flames. Then she sashayed around the counter, arm still out. “I will force-feed you. I don’t have a pet.” She grinned slyly. “Anymore.”
Ah crap. Now she was coming at me with her full body on display, a playful look on that adorable face. I was screwed. I had no choice but to retreat. Without looking—because there was no way I could pry my eyes from what was heading toward me—I backpedaled. She kept coming, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
But I made a grave mistake in not watching where I was going.
The living room was sunken in.
My left foot found nothing but air and I was falling, falling. Oof! I looked up at a grinning Reagan still holding that red strip of disgusting mystery meat.
“We’re ten stories up, and I have a key to every room in the apartment. One bite and I’ll leave you alone.”
Bite.
My mind went places it shouldn’t, remembering that night when she’d bitten my shoulder and I bit her arm. I glanced at that arm now. Sure enough, the mark from my teeth was still there. Warmth pooled in my gut at the sight of those crescent scars and I wrenched my eyes away. What did she think of that scar? Of being marked by a Fae? By me?
At the thought of the pain I’d caused her after that bite—when I’d been so tired and furious and stupid—I gave in. Gaia, I gave in and opened my mouth.
Her face lit in delight as she inched closer, ripping off a third of the strip. Gently, cautiously, she pressed the piece to my bottom lip. Before I could even slide the thing called bacon all the way into my mouth, I knew I was forever changed. Smokey, salty, sweet perfection exploded on my tongue and a surprised moan left me. Flames of embarrassment heated my neck at the look Reagan was giving me—self-satisfied, like a spoiled cat. But when I bit down and heard a crunch, my eyes slid closed and I moaned again without reservation.
So this was what meat tasted like. I was a fan. Definitely a fan.
“Told you so,” she said, and I watched greedily as she finished off the last bite. “Now, do you want some bacon?”
Still munching away, my mouth tipped into a frown. “Am I not eating bacon?” I paused in my chewing. “Then what am I eating?”
“You’re hilarious. And now you’re not getting more.” I stuck my bottom lip out and rounded my eyes at her. “Pouty lips don’t work here. You’ll have to try harder.”
She turned on her heel, waltzing back to the kitchen. The stovetop clicked back on and a sizzle filled the room.
I lay there, studying the back of her head, not entirely sure what to make of her words. Harder. What did she want me to do, exactly? Beg? A grin tugged at my mouth and I jumped to my feet, striding toward the kitchen. I sidled up behind her, my chest lightly brushing against her—
I stopped my mind from thinking of what stood right in front of me. What I was doing. Gaia, what was I doing? Crap. Too late to back out now. I was doing this, even if the heat from the stove was boiling me alive. Bending down so my lips grazed the shell of her ear, I whispered, “Please?”
Reagan jumped, giggling as she batted at my face gently. “That tickles. Stop, you can have more.”
At the carefree sound she’d made, my breath stalled. Giggling. Eyes lit with mirth. A blade stabbed my chest and I stumbled back. Breathing became impossible. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t—
“Do you—” My voice cracked and I roughly cleared my throat. “Do you have something I could change into? I’m kind of . . .” Unable to finish, I pointed at my blood-stained shirt.
Her eyes narrowed as they skirted the length of me. “Yeah, I should have offered sooner, sorry. You can shower. The bathroom is in my room and there’s spare clothing in the guest room.” Her gaze flicked back to my face. “Are you all right? You seem . . . antsy.”
As I inched toward the hallway, still unable to meet her eyes, I said, “Yeah, yeah. Fine. I’ve had a rough couple of days.” I continued backing up until a wall hid her from view, then whipped around, practically jogging down the hallway in my attempt to create distance. Lots and lots of distance.
I found her room and refused to explore, striding straight to the bathroom. Inside, I quietly closed the door and leaned against it, finally releasing my breath. She was messing with my head. This arrangement was no good. I couldn’t stay here. Something in me would eventually explode being trapped like this, forced to confront growing feelings I shouldn’t have. Didn’t want to have.
Pushing away from the door, I stripped off the filthy clothing, wadding them into a ball and tucking them in a corner. In that corner was a . . . I blinked in surprise. A plant? As far as I knew, shifters repelled nature. They surrounded themselves with concrete walls and little else. Seeing a touch of green in this pristine white room skewed my perspective of Reagan even more.
My eyelids began to burn and I pressed my palms against them, cursing. How could this short, slip-of-a-girl have so thoroughly burrowed beneath my skin? I blinked rapidly, clearing my vision, and focused on the small fern again. I bet she has a catnip plant stashed in her bedroom. The thought made me chuckle.
After several minutes of poking and twisting at the shower’s many knobs, I stood under a cold waterfall. And as faint pink swirls slid down the drain, I prayed that these dangerous feelings I had for a five-foot-nothing female shifter would slip down the drain just as easily.
—
“So . . . I have to tell you something. Don’t get mad.”
Great.
Did she know me at all? If she thought I would get mad, I probably would. No. I would. Hands down.
I shoved another p
iece of bacon into my mouth, washing it down with orange juice before I grabbed a square of something she called waffle. Reagan watched me, thankfully with clothes on this time, a faint smirk on her lips.
“What?” I asked, my mouth still full.
“Well, Alec was here this morning while you were asleep. He has a bad habit of dropping in before his patrol.” Her eyes dropped to the table. “And I have to meet with Mordecai before I go out tonight.”
Abruptly, I swallowed. Bits of bacon lodged in my throat. Choking, I pounded a fist on my chest. “Wait—” I coughed, taking another large swallow of orange juice. “That was . . . that was a lot to digest all at once. Alec comes here? Came here while I was sleeping, and you’re only telling me this now?”
“Alec does what he wants. But you’re safe enough. He won’t go beyond the living room unless I’m home. Never does. And I chase him out every time. I’m sure you’ll see—hear—what I mean.” Reagan poked at the edge of her plate. “And yes, he was only here long enough to deliver that message. It was a nice change.”
I couldn’t quite organize my thoughts, so I simply sat there, gaping as she stared at her plate. Yeah, his presence here was a huge complication and I almost bolted for the door, but what glued me to the chair was her last words. Nice change. This was none of my business, I warned myself, yet my one encounter with him still sat like bile on my tongue. What he’d said about her . . .
“When you say he does what he wants . . . what does he want, exactly?” I asked carefully, watching her expression.
Her eyebrows pinched together, lips pressed into a firm line. “Something he can’t have,” she growled.
In the next instant, I was up out of my chair, hands slamming against the tabletop. “Has he touched you?” I thundered, incapable of lowering my voice. “Because I swear I’ll kill him. I don’t care who he is, I’ll—”
I jerked upright before I could say more, pushing past the table and into the living room. Facing the sliding door, I stared at the sprawling city below. Everything was blurred shapes. I had overreacted just now. I knew that. But the words had dredged up memories. Ignited a fire I couldn’t control. Behind me, all was silent as I worked on slowing my raging pulse.
Fingertips grazed my arm. “Hey. I’m okay. He gets handsy, but he leaves with broken parts every time he does.”
Broken.
Broken.
Screams. Pain. Helplessness.
A flame, so pure and good.
Snuffed out.
Broken, broken, broken.
The word was a pounding beat in my skull. Over and over it played. I couldn’t think. Could only re-imagine a beautiful, broken girl, dying in more ways than one at the hands of—
In the next moment, she was wrapped in my arms. I pressed my mouth to her hair. Breathed her in. Sweet and spicy, apples and cinnamon. I held her like that, clutched tightly to my hammering chest, never wanting to let go. Afraid she would pull away. But she didn’t. Her slender arms wrapped around me in return, and my heart almost burst.
What are you doing? my mind hissed.
I buried my nose in her hair.
She’s not your girl. Snap out of it. You’re only going to ruin her.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the voice, but the thoughts were relentless.
And right.
My demon was right.
Reaching up, I took Reagan’s shoulders and gently pushed her back. Not meeting her eyes, afraid of what I’d see there, I whispered, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She slid her hands over mine, squeezing softly. “Don’t stress over a hug. Someday I’ll break you of that Fae modesty.”
But she wouldn’t look at me either.
My eyes burned with exhaustion. I hadn’t slept. At first I had been too wired from the night’s events. Then worried about Tarik after—
No. I didn’t want to dissect the layers behind that hug. Tarik was never so vulnerable, and while I had always imagined he had the capacity for it, to see the raw emotions firsthand . . .
I wanted to push him. To force that side of him out into the light. But I worried he wouldn’t be able to fight off that dark, angry persona and I would end up the victim of that nasty temper. Again.
A shifter must have hurt him badly to leave such deep, invisible scars. He reacted too impulsively, driven too much by those concealed emotions for me to believe otherwise. When he was scared, or concerned, he pulled me in. Then he spent the rest of his time shoving me away. I was stuck in a game of tug-o-war that usually left me in the mud.
Honestly, after that kiss, I might be better off running far away.
If nothing else, Tarik was filling a lonely void I hadn’t realized existed in my life. I had Nevaeh; the only person in the universe I could say with absolute certainty loved me as much as I loved her. Our friendship meant more to me than anything, and she was always there when I needed her . . . but she didn’t visit often.
And Nevaeh didn’t make me feel flustered. Nervous. I didn’t think about her all the time, didn’t feel warmth bloom in my stomach when she looked at me with concern in her eyes. I didn’t know what that meant.
I had to admit, having someone to talk to was kind of nice. To share new things with, even silly things like bacon. I had always been perfectly fine on my own . . . but maybe I was simply used to solitude. When the options were Mordecai or Alec, there really hadn’t been much choice.
Shaking my head, I lowered my eyes to the large dark-wooden desk in front of me. These were thoughts for another time. Mordecai was late. I had been standing in his office for well over fifteen minutes. Alec hadn’t mentioned why the Great Dragon wanted to see me, but I imagined he wanted me on the hunt for his Fae fugitives while I patrolled tonight. I huffed a laugh at that. Fugitives. That was how he treated them.
Tarik had to be frantic by now. The panic that had blazed in those emerald eyes when I had strode for the balcony . . . Was he really worried about me? Or himself?
Either way, I promised him I would be back before sunset. The sky was a brilliant shade of pinkish orange, though, and here I was. Waiting.
Worry began to darken my thoughts when the door finally banged open. Every muscle in my body tensed, my stomach twisting into knots. Mordecai’s expression was lit with fury, eyes flashing in my direction as he crossed his arms and waited expectantly.
I knelt. “In loyalty and service to the Great Dragon.”
“Is that so?” he snarled. Before I could look up a fist slammed into my jaw, sending me backward. “Where were you last night?”
I stumbled to my feet, not daring to glance at his face, resisting the urge to reach for the jaw that now throbbed in agony. “Father, I was on patrol all night.”
Mordecai circled me. I kept my eyes on the floor, eager to stop him from lashing out again. He shoved a long, white feather under my nose. My heart stopped and I fought to keep my face smooth. “Then why did I find this in my mines?”
“I don’t know, Father.”
A slap this time, one that vibrated through my body. I stiffened, hands clenched into fists at my sides. This time, though, I wasn’t restraining fear. No, I was holding back anger. Rage. Fury over all the things he had done to me, to Tarik, to an entire race of innocents. To a little girl with sparkling amber eyes that haunted my every nightmare. I backed away a step, then another, stopping when I bumped into his desk.
When I glanced up, he grinned wickedly and leaned forward. “Did you release those Fae? Were you involved in the death of my butler?”
“No, Father.” Lying was easier with poisonous anger flowing through my veins.
“You’re a liar,” he spat. “How else would this feather have shown up next to his body?”
“Maybe one of the shifters who attacked me the other day planted one of my feathers. They were all over the alley the next day. If they could make you think I was guilty, you would finish the job for them and no one will stop you.”
“What have I told you
about telling lies, Reagan?”
Mordecai moved too quickly. I couldn’t stop him as he latched onto my hair. His hand jerked forward, slamming my face into the corner of his desk. Pain splintered from my cheekbone, lancing through my eye, and surged up the side of my head. Instead of crying, I ignored the pounding in my head. Let the fury win.
I growled.
Low, inhuman.
In the flash of time it took for his shock to register I had shifted, lion’s teeth bared as I snarled. He backed away quickly, straight into the bookcases.
Come out and play, dragon. I’ve had enough.
“Reagan, stop.”
I roared angrily, taking a step closer.
“Reagan. Leave now and I’ll consider this indiscretion forgiven.”
Forgiven? I should be the one forgiving him. Heat and rage warmed my blood.
I lunged for him, pinned him against the shelves. My nose was an inch from his face, my teeth ready to sink into the flesh trembling before me. I scanned his face, registering the unbridled terror at my animalistic fury.
“Reagan, my daughter, my dear sweet daughter. I’m sorry. My temper gets the best of me, you know this. Of course you weren’t lying. I’m sorry.”
His eyes glistened. I wondered why he didn’t shift; the Great Dragon could easily destroy my lion. Instead, I stared at him until my breaths became shallow. I could kill him. I could kill him right now. Destroy his legacy and set the Fae on a path to fight for their freedom. I could rip his throat out for all he had done. All he would continue to do, if I didn’t.
But I hesitated. The only one here was me. Directly, I was the only one in any kind of danger. And even knowing what kind of person he was, I simply couldn’t bring myself to kill him. Maybe he had trained me too well. Maybe I still considered him too much of a father figure. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to enact that kind of violence on a cowering man.
Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1) Page 19
