“Even if I can’t what?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Think of me as you did before you knew what I was.”
Drawing back, he looked at her through his lashes, scanned her from the tips of her wings to her painted toes. She was undeniably different, but somehow having her close felt right.
“Nick? Please. Just say it. Whatever you’re thinking.”
He traced his fingers over her shoulders. So she was a dragon. Everything about her drew him in. Not only the wings but also the way she’d cared for the children of Sunrise House, her invisibility but also her bravery, her speed and also the warmth of her smile. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it all right now, but one thing was for certain, Nick had no intention of letting her go until he figured it out.
“I believe you’re a dragon,” Nick said, his hands circling her rib cage.
Her breath hitched.
“But you must know that I don’t fully understand what your being a dragon means yet. I trust you. You’re extraordinary; I get that. I see that.” He reached again to her wing, petting her along its arc until his fingers hooked in the talon at its crest. It was like holding a bear claw, and he imagined it could be deadly under the right circumstances. He tugged at it gently and was rewarded with the parting of her lips on a pleasured inhale. The slight arch of her back encouraged him. He did it again, his curiosity transforming into deep fascination.
“You’re not afraid?”
He gave her a slow, distinctly male grin, his gunmetal-gray eyes growing stormy in the dim light of the bedroom chandelier. “Oh baby, the fear isn’t half as strong as the excitement.”
She made a sound deep in her throat, almost a purr. Oh, he loved that. He couldn’t remember ever being this captivated by anyone, and holding her awakened a long-forgotten need within him, a wild, possessive instinct, purely male and admittedly foolish. He didn’t analyze it, only accepted it. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. She was close, soft, and warm in his arms. Rowan might be a dragon, but she melted against him in a way his human body understood.
He lowered his mouth toward hers and paused. Was he doing this? Oh hell yes he was. “It’s the end of our date, Rowan. You owe me a kiss.”
She gave a nervous laugh and smiled brightly. “Yes. I do. As promised.” She rose on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his.
He kissed her then, the way a man kisses a woman when he knows she’s actually a hurricane in red lipstick and nail polish. He kissed her thoroughly so there could be no question that he thought of her the same as he had earlier in the day. He kissed her again, deeper, to show her that she was more than he’d ever expected.
A thump came from beyond the bedroom door. Nick tried his best to ignore it and focus on the heaven going on where their lips touched, but Rowan withdrew.
“Did you hear that?”
Internally cursing all manner of man and beast that might have made the offending sound, he looked toward the door. The thump came again. “Yeah, I did.” He reached for his gun. It wasn’t there. “Where’s my weapon?”
She pointed toward the chair next to the bed. “It’s there. I took it off you when I put you in my bed. You won’t need it. Anyone who can get in here is not someone who will be damaged by a bullet.”
He put his shoulder holster on anyway and found his phone underneath it. Fifteen missed messages from Soren.Shit! He fired off a quick text.Safe. Talk later.
The thump came again.
“It sounds like a bird slapping your window.”
Rowan’s face drained of all color. “Nick, stay here.” She moved into the hall.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Trust me. Stay. Please.”
He watched her disappear down the hall. Nick glanced at the mirror in the bedroom and pulled aside his collar. The vampire bite was completely healed. Vampire bite. Vampires were real.Fuck him. What a damn day.
Vampires werereal,and he’d just let Rowan leave to investigate a strange sound. Visions of bats breaking through glass filled his brain. Vampires sinking teeth into that long, graceful neck of hers.
“Sorry, Rowan, but hell no. Not hiding in here,” he said under his breath. He crept out of the bedroom. At the end of the hall, he could see the living room, Rowan’s back, and two french doors beyond her. A white blur passed beyond the glass. Not a bat. Rowan’s head turned, and he ducked into the nearest room to avoid detection.
He found himself in a small library. Or was it an office? There was a mahogany desk, its legs carved to look like winged lions, and a floor globe, all surrounded by shelves and shelves of old books. For a split second, he gaped at the grandeur and beauty of the dark wood, the patina of fine leather, the brass accents on the globe and the leather chair beyond the desk. His eyes trailed over the leather-bound volumes on the shelf and caught on one in particular.Frankenstein.
The click of a lock turning reminded him why he was there. He placed his hand on his gun and peeked into the hall again. To his surprise, Rowan had unlocked and opened the glass doors. The white thing—he could see now it was a large white owl—coasted inside and circled past her. Nick’s brow furrowed. What was she doing? Letting a wild owl into the house was anything but a good idea. Sure, the thing looked like Hedwig from Harry Potter, not anything sinister, but who knew why it was slamming into her window? Maybe it was rabid or otherwise diseased.
He drew in a shallow breath. The owl was… changing. The feathers swelled and pulsed, the small body morphing as it circled twice, growing larger in the firelight. It dropped behind the sofa, out of sight. Nick jolted when a man stood up exactly where the owl had fallen. A naked man.
