Forgotten Sea полностью

Her pulse quickened. “I think you can do better.”

He strol ed forward, al lean grace and golden eyes like a hunting cat. Her stomach fluttered. Not, she thought, with fear.

“Let’s see,” he murmured and bent his head.

His breath was warm, his mouth firm and persuasive.

His lips rubbed and withdrew, pressed and lingered, teasing, tempting, gentle. She closed her eyes, absorbing the flavor and the tenderness of his kiss, feeling her breath go and her knees turn to water.

More warmth. More pressure. Her heart soared, beating in her chest, and yet he did not touch her with anything but his mouth and one hand, cupping the back of her head. His thumb stroked her jaw, and she opened for him, taking his scent deep in her lungs, his tongue inside her mouth.

Too much. Too fast. She was drowning in sensation.

Suffocating.

But even as she stiffened, Iestyn eased away. He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose, on the arch of her eyebrow.

“There’s an al -night Walmart two blocks away,” he murmured against her hair.

She opened her eyes, struggling for a light tone. “Are you asking me on a date?”

His silent laughter brushed her cheek. “If this was a date, I’d buy you flowers, not a change of clothes. What size shoe do you wear?”

His consideration shook her. “You want to buy me clothes.”

“Actual y, I’m good with you naked. But you might appreciate something clean after your shower.”

She was dying to shower, desperate to scrub away the smel of smoke. But . . . “You’re going now?”

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“Or I could stay and scrub your back.”

The invitation was there, the intent was there, gleaming in his golden eyes, but softened with humor, leashed by his wil .

She shivered with nerves and desire, her gaze slipping from his. “No, thanks.”

He frowned, misunderstanding the reason for her trembling.

Or perhaps understanding too wel . “You don’t mind being left alone?”

Memory slammed into her. The cheap room. The sound of footsteps stumbling down the hall. Her heart pounding as she hid under the bed. “Angel, I’m back.”

She swal owed a whimper. Straightened her spine.

“Sometimes I prefer it.”

“We’re out of the way here,” Iestyn said. “Second-floor corner unit. And the door double locks.”

She nodded wordlessly.

He frowned. “Unless locks don’t work against demons.”

She pul ed herself together. “I can set simple wards. I’m not afraid of demons.” Only ghosts. “Anyway, it’s highly unlikely they fol owed us here.”

“They found us before.”

“Because we used magic. Power attracts them.”

“Like shit draws flies.”

She scowled. “Don’t you take anything seriously?”

“Yeah. Your safety.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw. “How do you know they won’t burn the place down while I’m gone?”

His protectiveness warmed her. “They don’t usual y attack so openly. First, because they won’t risk attracting Heaven’s attention. And second, because they can’t assemble that much energy in so short a space of time.

Most of the time they must borrow other matter—other bodies.”

“Like in the al ey.”

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She hugged her arms. “Yes.”

He searched her face. Apparently what he saw satisfied him, because he gave a short nod. Stooping, he unstrapped the dive knife from his ankle and offered it to her, hilt first.

She recoiled slightly. “That’s yours.”

“I’m loaning it to you. You need it more than I do.”

“But I just told you—”

“That you’re safe from demons, yeah, I know. Hel , a knife’s probably no good against demons anyway.”

“Actual y, fire needs oxygen to survive,” she said seriously.

“If you cut the body’s airway, the demon must leave its host or die.”

“Good to know.” He offered the blade again. “Take it.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason you gave it to me back in the cel ar.”

She stared at him, confused.

He closed his fingers over hers on the hilt. “To remind you you’re not alone.”

*

*

* Lara grabbed the tiny bottle of shampoo, averting her eyes from the coin-operated condom dispenser on the wal above the toilet. She pushed open the mildewed shower curtain and winced. Yuck. Maybe she should wear her wet sneakers into the tub? But then they would never dry by morning. She wasn’t that confident of Iestyn’s ability to return with shoes.

He would return. She was sure of that. And when he did . . .

She shivered and cranked on the shower.

At least the water was hot. She stood under the scalding spray, letting it pound her scalp and sink to her bones, flaying herself with the cheap washcloth as if she could scrub away her memories.

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“Sex is not that big a deal with us,” she’d told him.

“Why are you making such an issue of this?”

A chil chased down her back despite the hot spray.

That’s what you get for lying. Sex was an issue for her, too.

Had been an issue. She wasn’t a victim anymore.

And maybe, with him, sex would be different. Easier.