She placed her hands on her hips. “Did I ask you to do that?”
My smile widened. “You didn’t need to ask, bounty hunter. As usual, I am anticipating your needs before you even think of them.”
I didn’t know why I enjoyed making this woman scowl at me. Why I drank down the fury that radiated from her. Perhaps because she was one of the few people I knew who hadn’t had centuries of learning to hide their true feelings behind a bored mask.
“Look, Samael–”
“Borrow it, if the thought of owning it makes you worry.”
She thought about it. “Fine. Thank you.”
The sour look on her face made me quirk my lips. “The picture of grace and manners. As usual.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
* * *
Danica
Nice cars were wasted on me. Even if I could have afforded the smooth ride I was enjoying right now, it wouldn’t have occurred to me to spend whatever insane amount of money Samael had spent on this car. And I’d seen his personal floor in the tower garage. This was just one of many.
And yet… this was a special kind of car. It was some European brand I’d never heard of, but the valet had raised his eyebrows when he’d handed me the keys.
The leather seat cradled my butt, the air conditioning actually cooled down the car, instead of giving a half-hearted attempt, blasting hot air in my face, and then shutting off. The interior was large and spacious, and the thing practically parked itself.
Say what you want about Samael, but working for him had its perks.
You’re not working for him, idiot. You’re bonded to him.
Yes. And then there was that.
He’d looked… distraught when I was hurt. And he’d tamped down all of his instincts, which told him to hunt– the instincts thaturgedhim to make the problem go away– because I asked him to.
When I thought of Samael these days, I didn’t picture the bone-chilling fear I’d experienced when he caught me in his club. I thought of him tenderly pushing my hair back from my face. I thought of him cracking a wry joke, entertaining Cil and Zip, and making sure my sister was okay, even after I’d told him to stay out of my life.
Every time I pulled away, he gave me that patient smile that told me he’d wait as long as it took. And I was worried that eventually I’d succumb, and I’d be in his bed for good.
Once that happened, I’d have no chance at breaking the bond between us.
And that was the problem. Samael still refused to break it. He either didn’t see how much it killed me, or he didn’t care.
If he wasn’t a demon, he’d be the perfect guy.
My mood was dark as I pulled up outside Mike Brown’s house. He lived in a small bungalow in Colonial Village. The garden was unkempt and overgrown, and the once-red car parked on the lawn was now a faded tangerine, speckled with rust spots.
Vas was meeting me here after he’d had a meeting with a few of Samael’s other demons, so I sat in the cool air and waited until he landed next to me.
Heat punched me in the face as I opened the door. That was the problem with working A/C. It made it worse when you had to go out into the real world.
We walked toward the door and Vas froze.
“What is it?”
“There’s something dead in that house.”
They’d got to Mike first. Guilt drowned me and I attempted to suck in a breath. Would this guy still be dead if I’d come straight here after learning that he stole the belt?
“We need to check for evidence,” I said. I’d already rifled through Samael’s trunk, when he gave me the car, and I strode back to the car and pulled out the huge first aid kit. I snapped on a pair of gloves and handed one of them to Vas as we made our way up the path and back to Mike’s front door.
