Her black boots peeked from beneath her snug blue jeans, and anything he’d planned to say fizzled. Her shirt softly hugged her hips, rising to follow the curve of her waist. No longer rain soaked and disheveled, her hair fanned over her shoulders. A turtleneck covered her lovely neck to her chin. Laughter burst from him.
“What’s so funny?” Faith demanded.
“If I wanted you, blood, body and soul, that bit of cloth would not hinder me,” he said with a smile.
Her hand rose halfway to her throat, but she caught herself, dropping her arms. Fists clenched, she stood her ground. “I’m still wearing it.”
“Suit yourself.” He still smiled at the notion of using a piece of fabric for protection.
She sent him a sideways glance as she went to the bed and placed the clothes she had been wearing in a neatly folded pile. As she leaned forward, her hair slid across her back and draped over her shoulder. Long and brushed smooth, it fell just below her shoulder blades in a soft vee. No choppy layers, no wispy pieces falling over her eyes.
Perfect. Lovely. He imagined what it would be like to sweep back her soft, sweet smelling hair, to bury his face in it as he fed.
He rose, and in two steps stood behind her, lifting her hair to his face, drowning in the scent of flowers. She gasped, but he clenched his fist tighter, not willing to let her go.
Chapter 3
Half afraid of what he would do, she closed a hand over his fist behind her head. Traitorous excitement buzzed through her. His body seemed to curl around her, and the possessive, sexual heat rolling off him shocked her to her core.
Footsteps approached, and Gustav’s impatient voice broke the tension. “If you don’t want to stay through the day, you’d better get going.”
The warmth of Soren’s body evaporated, making her shoulders shake once with a sudden chill. Hiding her reaction to his touch, she quickly combed her fingers through her hair. Funny, but it felt like Gustav had intruded.
Soren met him in the doorway, their hushed conversation apparently none of her business. Besides, she couldn’t make out a word. She took the opportunity to duck into the bathroom, retrieve her suitcase and haul it to the door. Soren stood, glaring at the keys dangling from Gustav’s hand, and she paused.
His legs were parted in an almost challenging stance as he argued with Gustav, arms tightly crossed and jaw clenched. She smiled. The argument must not be going Soren’s way. He looked angry, and Gustav’s voice rose steadily.
“Do it your way and you’ll fry in the dawn light, you stupid, stubborn bastard. And then she’s stuck with me.” He motioned to her, though Soren didn’t turn his head her way. “Hysterical women aren’t sensible, and you know it. One way or another, she’ll be dead along with you. If a demon doesn’t get her, I’ll have to.”
Soren growled, but didn’t say a word.
“Hey,” she piped up, “nobody needs to kill me. I’ll go with you.” Her fate would not be decided by two hotheaded men.
“Yeah, but this idiot wants to walk to Balinese,” Gustav said. “Which would be all fine and dandy, but you’ve been knocked in the head, and the only thing you’ll do is slow him down, killing you both in the process.”
Gustav gave her one of those looks that screamed for help. Well, she’d give it a shot. She was all for not dying. “How far is it?” she asked quietly, sinking onto the edge of the bed.
“Far,” Soren bit out.
“I don’t think I could keep up with you,” she said, throwing some girly weakness into her voice. “And what if I pass out again?”
“Listen to her, Soren. Neither you nor I know how many more demons are out there right now. If you stop to fight them, you waste time. And what if you’re injured?”
After a long moment of contemplation, Soren leaned on the doorjamb and tipped his head back, tense in his defeat. “Damn,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered to Gustav.
“He hates cars,” Gustav supplied.
“That’s it?”
“He’s never liked them.” Gustav shrugged, apparently quite familiar with Soren’s quirks.
“I thought guys loved cars. Were you in an accident?” she asked, though she didn’t expect a response.
“Unreliable hunks of metal,” Soren muttered, snatching the keys from Gustav’s hand.
“He hates progress in general,” Gustav answered with a smile. “The only real exceptions I’ve ever seen are indoor plumbing, his guns and his phone. He hates his phone, too.”
Soren picked up her suitcase then curled his fingers around her elbow. Without a goodbye to Gustav, he pulled her along behind him and out the door.
* * * *
Soren tossed her suitcase in the backseat of the rusty two-door car, and as he stepped aside for her to take the passenger seat, spotted a woman’s shoe on the sidewalk. No woman alive would leave a single shoe behind. Alive being the key word.
The smell of blood hung in the air. Demons. They stole lives in mere moments, leaving only a damaged, empty body behind. Hatred rose, swelling like a storm ready to break, destroying all in its path. He controlled it, at least for now. Blind hatred did nothing but dull the senses.
Faith stood at his side, oblivious, a stranger to his world. He had no time to educate her. She knew what manner of being he was, but nothing of the vile creatures thriving in the darkest blackness of night, held at bay by a single streetlamp.
He didn’t hear it, didn’t see it, but something had shifted in the shadows. He captured her delicate wrist and pulled her behind his body, shielding her.
“She looks tasty,” someone said from the shadows.
“You’ll never know,” Soren said.
Faith leaned closer to him. She must have finally become aware of the danger.
Footsteps moved steadily toward them, and he dropped his head, studying the sounds, blindly memorizing every movement ahead of him. The demon’s steps echoed off the building. He wasn’t facing it.
He’d backed Faith up against the car, and the sound shifted, coming from behind them.
Gun already pulled free, he turned. Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her tight to his chest. But the creature was fast, and before he found it in the dark, a slicing pain tore across his wrist. The gun dropped from his hand.
“Not so easy now, is it, vampire? With no weapon, how will you defend this little morsel?”
Soren pushed Faith against the car, keeping her far from the demon. A knife glinted in the creature’s hand. The demon twisted it, waiting for an attack. He would have one.
* * * *
Faith couldn’t watch his fist connect with the man’s face. A few more punches, a muffled snap, and then silence.
She looked from the crumpled man to Soren. No one had ever pounded a man into the pavement to keep her safe before. She didn’t know the rules for something like that. Did you thank the man, or scold him? Somehow she felt like she ought to do both.
The man on the ground lay motionless, the light catching something wet beneath him.
“You really hurt him. I think he’s bleeding.” She squinted as she bent down, getting a closer look in the dim light.
“It’s not hurt, Faith, it’s dead. Get in the car,” Soren said, pushing her into the passenger seat and shutting the door.
Dead. She looked at the man’s face one last time