I followed him, and he turned back to me, any hint of feeling gone from his blank face.
I slid my hand up his chest and marveled at the ridges of his muscles. My hand seemed to have a mind of its own, sliding up to his neck. Both of us barely breathed. Finally, he stiffened, his eyes burning.
“Don’t pity me, bounty hunter.”
“I don’t.”
He glowered at me, and I shook my head. “It’s not pity. It’s sympathy.”
I rose onto my tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his chin. And another against the corner of his mouth. He lowered his head, and I brushed my lips against his. To date, our kisses had been full of lust and frustration. This was… gentle. Samael went exceedingly still… as if I was a wild animal he didn’t want to startle. His lips softened against mine, and his hands fisted by his sides, as if he was barely restraining himself.
I stepped back. “I’d better get back to work.”
He gazed at me, and I was pretty sure the demon saw more than I wanted him to see.
“Steve’s office is located on the third floor.”
“Thanks.”
My mind whirled as I stepped into the elevator. My last sight of Samael was him standing in front of the window, his legs spread as he stared down at his territory. Alone.
Steve raised his gaze from his work as I walked into his office. “You look… rested.”
“Shut it. What have you got for me?”
“We have three shots of the suspect in the cloak. They’re not great. Gary’s cameras seem to have mostly been for decoration.
Goddamn it, Gary.
“Any of them give you anything good?”
“The tattoo parlor had a functioning camera.”
Steve pressed a few buttons, and I leaned closer as the video began to play. “He’s got his hood up.”
“Yeah. Smart guy. See how he’s hunching his shoulder and turning his face away here? He knows exactly where the cameras are.”
I watched the video, but it didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t known. The asshole who’d hurt Gary came from the west. He walked quickly but not overly suspiciously. Steve pulled up the three still shots from the video and I studied them. The cloak shifted slightly as the guy turned toward Gary’s store and I squinted. “There’s something about him that seems familiar.”
Steve raised one eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I shook my head. I couldn’t place it. “Can you print these out for me?”
“Already have.”
“Thanks.”
Steve gave me a sympathetic look. “Good luck.”
I left Steve attempting to clean up the pictures and drove to Selina’s, my mind replaying the memories Samael had shown me.
He’d been so young to witness such horror. To lose his entire family. And then he’d come into such a terrible power, right when he’d had vengeance on his mind. What did that do to a kid?
When I was sent the pictures of my mom’s body, sprawled on the street as if she was trash… my world had stopped turning. I suddenly had no goals, no plans, nothing except the need to find whoever had killed her and make them pay.
Something told me Samael was the same.
Selina lived on the outskirts of Trinity Park, close to West Club Boulevard, which separated Trinity Park from Walltown. She’d added several squat pots of flowers on either side of the steps to her porch, and bright pink flowers spilled out of them— the pots already struggling to contain them. Her lawn was still as green and lush as ever. I had a feeling that Selina’s lawn stayed perfect year-round.
