the sheets.
Lucifer. The Devil.
The name made her heart race faster. Images of her nightmare lounge fiend flashed into her mind. “Nope. Don’t remember.”
Kagan returned to her bedside, the question clear in his midnight blue eyes. “Strange. You screamed his name, several times.”
Mira fussed with the duvet. “Why would I dream about the devil, Kagan?”
“You must tell me everything,
piccola.
” He grasped her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I can’t protect you if you hold back information.”
She jerked her chin away. What she needed was for him to leave her the hell alone. “I don’t need your protection.”
He stared for a long moment. She fidgeted under the scrutiny, uncomfortable with their newfound sudden intimacy. The mattress dipped again. He leaned closer and cupped her cheek. His thumb stroked along her cheekbone before his palm slipped to the back of her head and tugged her forward. Her mouth trembled as his face descended. Expectant. Waiting. Scared shitless and aching, all at once.
He neared and her eyes slid closed, her lips hypersensitive, awaiting his touch. Then his kiss brushed her forehead, the touch feather-light, and some barrier deep inside fissured. A tiny, blinding flutter of fear beat against her mind. This man — her so-called sworn protector — was capable of shattering her to pieces.
“Goodnight,
piccola
.” His voice washed over her, a comforting salve to her blistering pulse. Mouth dry, Mira stared at the smooth skin of his throat, the rhythm of his heart beating steady and strong against the surface. Her steeled resolve returned at his exodus. The tender exposed areas of her soul calloused beneath the searing onslaught of her vehement denials.
Kagan doesn’t care about you. Doesn’t even like you. You’re nothing but a job to him. A burden.
He clicked off the light, and Mira blinked into the thick dark, the hand she’d raised toward him falling back to the sheets.
“Only sweet dreams from now on, Mira.” The rich honey of his voice purred through the night, rekindling her need.
She burrowed under the covers and drifted to sleep, her aching heart cocooned in a haze of vanilla and sandalwood.
• • •
Kagan woke several hours later, a zing of electricity coasting along his nerves.
Argus!
He sprang off his makeshift bed and assumed an attack stance, his eyes darting in the pre-dawn grayness. Xander stepped into view. His commander shot him an amused look before taking a seat at the kitchen table and speaking. “From the snoring lump in your bed, I’d say you made the pickup.”
Kagan scrubbed a hand over his face and yawned, the tension leaving his body. He loved Xander like a brother, but the man’s timing left much to be desired.
The tang of fresh-brewed coffee registered. Xander raised his mug. “Want some?” Kagan grunted on the way to the bathroom, stopping to scratch his butt as he went.
“Charming,” Xander called out from behind him. Kagan slammed the door shut. Xander’s muffled statements about the mundane continued while Kagan used the facilities and brushed his teeth. Xander was still talking when Kagan returned, as though nothing had happened. “
Che cosa?
Why are you here so early?” Kagan asked as he wandered into the kitchen. “And keep your voice low, Mira’s sleeping.”
“It’s after six.” Xander gave him a patient look. Kagan noted several strands of white now gleaming against Xander’s otherwise black hair. It was near impossible for immortals to go gray after their change. Only great stress or sorrow could cause the color shift. Kagan wondered what the hell had happened to Xander since he’d last seen him.
Xander looked across the open expanse of the warehouse loft toward the snoring lump in Kagan’s bed. “How is she?”
Kagan took the seat across from him and shrugged. “As well as expected. Things got messy after Argus found us.”
“Yes. Divinity told me of his arrival.” Xander’s tone was flat,
Lucifer. The Devil.
The name made her heart race faster. Images of her nightmare lounge fiend flashed into her mind. “Nope. Don’t remember.”
Kagan returned to her bedside, the question clear in his midnight blue eyes. “Strange. You screamed his name, several times.”
Mira fussed with the duvet. “Why would I dream about the devil, Kagan?”
“You must tell me everything,
piccola.
” He grasped her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I can’t protect you if you hold back information.”
She jerked her chin away. What she needed was for him to leave her the hell alone. “I don’t need your protection.”
He stared for a long moment. She fidgeted under the scrutiny, uncomfortable with their newfound sudden intimacy. The mattress dipped again. He leaned closer and cupped her cheek. His thumb stroked along her cheekbone before his palm slipped to the back of her head and tugged her forward. Her mouth trembled as his face descended. Expectant. Waiting. Scared shitless and aching, all at once.
He neared and her eyes slid closed, her lips hypersensitive, awaiting his touch. Then his kiss brushed her forehead, the touch feather-light, and some barrier deep inside fissured. A tiny, blinding flutter of fear beat against her mind. This man — her so-called sworn protector — was capable of shattering her to pieces.
“Goodnight,
piccola
.” His voice washed over her, a comforting salve to her blistering pulse. Mouth dry, Mira stared at the smooth skin of his throat, the rhythm of his heart beating steady and strong against the surface. Her steeled resolve returned at his exodus. The tender exposed areas of her soul calloused beneath the searing onslaught of her vehement denials.
Kagan doesn’t care about you. Doesn’t even like you. You’re nothing but a job to him. A burden.
He clicked off the light, and Mira blinked into the thick dark, the hand she’d raised toward him falling back to the sheets.
“Only sweet dreams from now on, Mira.” The rich honey of his voice purred through the night, rekindling her need.
She burrowed under the covers and drifted to sleep, her aching heart cocooned in a haze of vanilla and sandalwood.
• • •
Kagan woke several hours later, a zing of electricity coasting along his nerves.
Argus!
He sprang off his makeshift bed and assumed an attack stance, his eyes darting in the pre-dawn grayness. Xander stepped into view. His commander shot him an amused look before taking a seat at the kitchen table and speaking. “From the snoring lump in your bed, I’d say you made the pickup.”
Kagan scrubbed a hand over his face and yawned, the tension leaving his body. He loved Xander like a brother, but the man’s timing left much to be desired.
The tang of fresh-brewed coffee registered. Xander raised his mug. “Want some?” Kagan grunted on the way to the bathroom, stopping to scratch his butt as he went.
“Charming,” Xander called out from behind him. Kagan slammed the door shut. Xander’s muffled statements about the mundane continued while Kagan used the facilities and brushed his teeth. Xander was still talking when Kagan returned, as though nothing had happened. “
Che cosa?
Why are you here so early?” Kagan asked as he wandered into the kitchen. “And keep your voice low, Mira’s sleeping.”
“It’s after six.” Xander gave him a patient look. Kagan noted several strands of white now gleaming against Xander’s otherwise black hair. It was near impossible for immortals to go gray after their change. Only great stress or sorrow could cause the color shift. Kagan wondered what the hell had happened to Xander since he’d last seen him.
Xander looked across the open expanse of the warehouse loft toward the snoring lump in Kagan’s bed. “How is she?”
Kagan took the seat across from him and shrugged. “As well as expected. Things got messy after Argus found us.”
“Yes. Divinity told me of his arrival.” Xander’s tone was flat,
Similar Books
