I could only mutely nod. Emma’s head lifted up and as if in slow motion she pressed her lips against mine. My thoughts scattered while reality came into sharp focus. Though I’d never kissed anyone before, I matched the pressure and suction she gave.
It was one thing to speculate what kissing was like, but I hadn’t considered what it would be like to swallow her breath, to discover the curvature of her lips, to know flesh on flesh. The already hot hum of my blood exploded into a fury of desire I’d never known. It demanded I wrap her in my arms, grasp and touch every part of her, and taste every corner of her delicious, sensual mouth.
I didn’t, of course. I was more disciplined than to give into base urges. For the first time in my existence, I resented my position, my duties, my mission.
My fingers firmly wrapped around Emma’s shoulders to gently pull her away from me. When we broke apart, she was panting, her lips already fuller, and wetter than they’d been a moment ago.
“Emma, I can’t.” Though I was certain I was only telling myself, trying to command myself into listening to reason. “I am a Chevalier. I am a servant, not a man.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. Of course you’re a man.” Then she looked me up and down hotly. My skin broke out in goosebumps wherever her eyes landed. “More man than I’ve ever seen before, that’s for damn sure.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not. My only purpose is to protect life from the dark. I can’t….” I didn’t know how to finish.
Before she could say or do anything else, I moved past her and out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind me, feeling both frustrated and relieved to have a physical barrier between us so I could focus. I ran my hands up over my flushed face and smoothed back the hair dipping over my forehead.
I have no soul.
That’s what I should have told her. Emma would understand why I couldn’t continue to kiss and touch her, if I’d explained. I was a servant, repenting for the soul I lost. In my last life, I had done something so heinous and unforgivable that the gods took my soul. Until I atoned through service to the Light and earned it back, I would be forever damned. But another part of me didn’t want to tell her. I wanted to pretend I was ordinary and that I could bring my fantasy to life. I was ashamed to tell her I was a soulless being and why.
“Now that’s what I call a quickie.”
I looked up, startled. I’d forgotten my surroundings, another blunder. Travis had thrown his legs up on the coffee table and had his head back, letting out a slight snore from where he dozed on the couch. Krystan, however, was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of something clear that smelled sharply like something I used to disinfect wounds with. She looked at me pointedly through the cutout of the wall.
“Might want to wipe off your face there, sport,” she said again in that deadpan manner. “That shade of rose really isn’t your color.”
It took a moment for my mind to process what she was saying, then I brought my hand up to wipe away at my lips. Sure enough, a rose color now tinted my fist. I looked back up at Krystan, embarrassed. She threw me a wink.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“So youaren’tcoming with me to Denver to go clubbing tonight?” Krystan asked Emma. Her arms were crossed and her toe rhythmically tapped the floor. Her boots were ridiculously tall, both up her leg and at the heel. I wasn’t sure it was safe for her to be wearing such things, but she strutted around the apartment as if they were an extension to her already long legs.
“Krystan,” Emma said, trying to shove more clothes in a messenger bag. “We have some baddies coming after us, and I’ll be gone for a while, but I’ll be alright.”
Emma didn’t look at me. Since she reappeared from her bedroom, she kept her gaze diverted, focused on her small pack for the trip. She now wore thick leggings and an oversized cream turtleneck sweater. Her hair was pulled back in a short pony-tail and her glasses were gone.
Krystan looked first at the still-snoring Travis then at me with an arched eyebrow. “With these two yahoos?” She uncrossed her arms. “And what do you mean baddies? You make it sound like the Russian mafia is coming after you.”
“Something like that,” Emma said under her breath. Having clipped her pack shut, she threw the strap over her shoulder so the satchel lay at her hip. “Just do me a favor and if anyone asks, tell them I had to leave town for a family emergency.”
Krystan’s long arms began to flail in agitation. “That’s great, and what if they ask me –”
Emma had walked over to Krystan and put her hands on Krystan’s shoulders, though her roommate was considerably taller. “I have absolutely no doubt in your ability to fabricate stories, Krystan.”
A smile quirked the side of Krystan’s mouth but refused to fully express. “I suppose that’s not wrong. Though I still think you should drop these crazy dudes, come with me to Denver for the weekend and crash at my cousin’s till whatever sitch has blown over.”
“Another time,” Emma said, and gave Krystan a hug. Then she turned to me. “Okay, I’m ready.” She looked over my shoulder rather than right at me as she held out the coat I’d lent her.
A spike of pain needled at my heart. I took back my coat and slowly put it back on, realizing it now smelled like her. I tried to resist, but I couldn’t help but inhale deeply. Her scent was both sweet and deeply intoxicating, like a ripened peach.
“Travis,” I addressed the still-sleeping man, trying to forget about forbidden fruits. “We need to go.”
He didn’t stir, just kept on his sawing snore.
Krystan smiled too brightly. “Allow me.” She walked over next to Travis and used her booted foot to kick the coffee table out and away from his feet as she screamed, “Fire, fire, fire.”
Travis’s legs dropped to the floor hard and his body jackknifed up as he screamed. When he realized there was no fire, Krystan leaned over and pinched his cheek. “Hey haircut, time to get out of my apartment.”
I did not understand why she referred to Travis as haircut, when he looked rather in desperate need of one.
