“You won’t let go of me. We almost burned up in a fire. Lexi is out there alone and now Zach is, too. Something is coming this way, but apparently it’s too horrible to even speak of. Please tell me you did not just tell me not to worry.”
He was in trouble. He could hear it in her tone—the anger, the fear. What bothered him wasn’t that she was afraid so much as the fact that he really didn’t want her to be afraid. He should have been able to distance himself from her enough to keep her safe without all this emotional involvement. If he couldn’t keep a clear head, she’d be a lot more than afraid; she’d be dead. Zach might have lured the majority of the demons away, but he wouldn’t have gotten them all. They were like cockroaches. There were always more lurking in the dark.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I know all of this is bizarre to you, but I need you to trust me.”
Helen looked at him as if he’d just told her she was his long-lost half uncle. “Trust you? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No. I’m not. You have no idea what’s going on here and there’s no time to explain it. Ergo, trust me.”
“That’s it,” she said, throwing up her free hand. “We’re done here. I’m calling the police.”
Helen headed toward the kitchen and he trailed behind, keeping his grip solid. She could call the National Guard for all he cared. It wasn’t going to change anything. He wasn’t letting her go. “It would be better if you didn’t try to get them involved,” he told her.
“Better for you, maybe.” She turned on the kitchen lights and took a step toward the phone, but Drake just stood his ground. She got to the end of the tether he’d made of his arm, and that was as far as she could go. She stumbled, having expected him to continue to follow her.
“Ouch!” She rubbed her shoulder.
Her pain was the last straw. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. Drake collected her body and pressed it up against the kitchen wall so she had no choice but to pay attention. They had some things to straighten out, and now was as good a time as any.
Chapter 3
Helen couldn’t breathe. Not because Drake’s body was so tight against hers that she couldn’t pull in a breath, but because he was so tight against hers she could feel his heat sinking into her through their clothing, along with something else. Something delicious and powerful. Those strange wriggling streamers of energy flooded her, making her head spin and her eyes drift shut.
It felt good and that scared the hell out of her.
Trust me.
Yeah, right. She wasn’t a genius, but she knew better than to fall for that one. The only problem was that even though her mind was on board with the not-trusting-him thing, her body wasn’t. Whatever it was he was doing to her was shorting out her system, making her feel all syrupy inside. Being this close to him felt like sliding into a hot bath on a cold night. It gave her shivers and she just wanted to sink into him until she was in over her head. Way over.
This couldn’t be good for her. Whoever he was, he wasn’t normal. He was going to watch her die, for heaven’s sake. How could she be falling for this kind of seduction?
Helen forced her eyes open and instantly wished she hadn’t. He was staring down at her mouth, licking his lips like he was thinking about kissing her. As soon as she saw the thought cross his face, she was doing a little thinking in that direction as well. Okay, maybe more than a little.
Kissing him sounded lovely.
Above them, a clock ticked off the seconds and he didn’t move. Didn’t so much as flinch. He just stared at her mouth.
She had a point to make—something she was going to say or do—but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was. It didn’t seem relevant any longer. The only thing that seemed to hold any importance at all was whether or not she could get him to come just a little closer. Whether or not he’d give her enough space to go up on her tiptoes and reach his mouth because he wasn’t making the first move nearly fast enough to suit her.
His eye twitched; then his jaw tightened and his warm gaze went from her eyes to her mouth and back again. “We are not going to do this,” he said, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“We’re not?” she asked him, sounding disappointed and out of breath.
“No, you’re not,” said a low, cultured voice. Someone new. “At least not until we know more about your . . . situation.”
“Your timing sucks, Logan,” said Drake. His body shifted away from her a scant inch, allowing Helen space to draw in a deep breath. It didn’t help. Her head was still spinning and she was still thinking about how Drake’s mouth would have felt against hers. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time. Way too long for her tastes, and he had a nice mouth. Firm and wide with just the tiniest hint of softness.
“Drake, would you care to introduce me to your friend?” asked the new man.
“Not really,” said Drake, still not taking his eyes off her, “but I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“From what I’m told, no. You don’t.”
Drake backed up a half step, but didn’t go any farther. His thumb slid over her bare shoulder, stroking her as if he had the right to do so. And she didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t even care that they had an audience, which should have been its own giant warning bell.
She heard the man clear his throat and finally managed to pull herself away from Drake enough to look at the newcomer.
He was gorgeous. Drop-dead, perfume-model gorgeous. He was taller than Drake by a couple of inches, only thinner, almost gaunt, but he made gaunt look good. His facial features were so perfect, so symmetrical and balanced that they had to be surgically altered. No one was that pretty without a lot of help. He had thick black hair that fell just over the open collar of his shirt. A silky wave draped artfully across his forehead, barely shielding one silvery blue eye. His skin was pale and flawless, making him look inhuman in his perfection.
Helen wished she was half that pretty.
“Well, hell,” muttered Drake. “Do you do that to all the human women?”