“Will it hurt me?” Paul’s question was valid as I’d just turned his kidnapper to stone with my gaze.
“No, but it’s not pretty.”
Shaking his head, Paul smiled through his tears and pressed a gentle kiss to my long neck. “You’re beautiful.”
Well, crap. There went my heart again.
Chapter Thirty-One
Paul
Forcing my arms to release the serpent’s neck, I took a couple of small steps back into the motel room like Sylas asked, but I drew the line at averting my eyes to protect my oh-so-tender sensibilities. Honestly, with everything that he had done for me since we met, occasionally being a giant snake-thing wasn’t anywhere near enough to scare me off.
I watched in rapt fascination as the air around us seemed to thicken. The serpent’s silver-white scales shimmered, and the long, sinuous body shrunk in on itself, stretching into a sparkling star that solidified into the form of a kneeling humanoid. The entire experience was remarkable.
Sylas’s back arched as he drew in several breaths. I was getting concerned when he finally rose to his feet, standing gloriously naked before me, a flush on his cheeks and his eyes trained on the dirty sidewalk before us.
“You’re..are you okay?” I asked, taking one stumbling step forward before catching myself.
“Me?” Sylas sounded incredulous. “I’m fine. You’re the one who’s been kidnapped and then..this,” he waved his hand dismissively down the length of his chest.
“This?” I repeated, unable to stop a laugh as I took another step forward, sighing when I found myself pressed to his naked body, a soft fabric bag caught between us. “You mean how you’renot exactlya dragon?” I teased, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him tight. “I’ve never seen anything like your animal form.”
Sylas drew in a deep breath but surprised me by snickering. “Not too many people have.” Before he could continue, a thud from the bathroom reminded me that we weren’t alone. Sylas glanced behind me, his tone hardening. “Mommy dearest?”
I nodded. “They said we’re waiting for my father. Something about him finally manning up to do what he should have done years ago. And she muttered something about the money better be worth the headache.” I hesitated. “Kind of weird that she didn’t come out when he yelled,” I observed, jerking my thumb in the direction of the kidnapper frozen in place.
Sylas caught my hand, leading me into the room. When we passed the goon frozen in the doorway, Sylas squeezed my hand. “He’s not dead,” he said reassuringly.
I snorted. “Too bad.”
Sylas cocked a brow at me but didn’t respond, instead leading me over to the small table crammed into the corner of the motel room. He nodded to the chair against the wall. “Why don’t you have a seat while I take care of a few things?”
My heart lurched. “We aren’t leaving?”
“Not yet,” Sylas said calmly. “If we do, he’ll just come after you again. We might as well see this thing through.”
“Um, I could call 911?”
“Soon,” Sylas agreed. “After we have something for the cops.”
I knew I was frowning when I settled into the chair Sylas had directed me to. I was watching silently as Sylas tipped the frozen goon up on one foot and dragged him into the small coat closet just inside the motel room door. Then he crossed and tapped lightly on the bathroom door.
“What?” my stepmother snapped, jerking the door open. “I’m almost done..” She trailed off when she saw Sylas standing in front of her, naked as a jaybird. “Who the fuck are you?” She craned her neck to look around the room before demanding, “Where’s Sean?”
“Your partner?” Sylas asked calmly, bracing one hand on the edge of the open door to ensure she couldn’t slam it shut. “He had somewhere to be.”
Rosemary narrowed her eyes at me. “What kind of crap are you trying to pull?”
I kept my eyes trained on the table and pretended not to hear her. Rosemary turned back to Sylas. “What do you want?”
Sylas smirked. “Not a damn thing you have to offer,” he responded, his voice firm. “Why don’t you come on out and join us while we wait for your husband?” he suggested.
I glanced up just in time to see fear race across her face before she masked it.
“I think not,” she announced imperiously, flouncing back a step and jerking the door toward her, obviously intending to catch Sylas off guard. Braced in Sylas’s strong grip, the door remained where it was, the force of Rosemary’s pull making her fingers skitter across the cheap metal knob and sending her fake nails scattering to the cheap carpet as she howled in pain. “You son of a bitch!”
Sylas snorted. “That’s about enough of that,” he said calmly. “Now, would you like to seat yourself at the table or should I help you?”
