Swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, he glancedat the bucket of red-tinted water and the bloodstained rag she’d used to cleanhim up as he lay bleeding on the mattress.She’d been shocked at how quicklythe deep lacerations in his back had healed, and she was even more shocked athow he was moving around just twelve hours later, as if nothing had happened.
“I hate that you had to see that.”He cursed and shoved tohis feet, the muscles in his arms and bare chest flexing with every motion.“Ihate that all of this is happening to you.Drayger, having to hide, my assholebrothers.I’m sorry.”
Startled by his apology when he was the one who had lost hiswings for helping her, she poured herself a glass of water with a shaking hand.This was a male who she’d been convinced would deliver her to a serial killerif his duty required it, and yet he was clearly trying to protect her.
He’d lost hiswingsbecause of her.
I’ve always done my job even if it didn’t make sense.Even if I felt that what I was doing was wrong.But I’m invested in yourwell-being now.I’minvestedin you.I will find a wayto keep you safe.
Shirtless, his jeans streaked with dried blood, he stillmanaged to move with smooth, lethal grace as he paced the small room and drankfrom the bottle every dozenstepsor so.“I’m going torequest a Primori reassignment.I’m getting rid of Drayger.”
Whoa.“You can do that?”
“Theoretically.But it’s up to the Memitim Council.If theygo for it, I won’t have to protect Drayger anymore.He’ll be some otherMemitim’s problem, and I can concentrate on keeping you safe.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.Thank you isn’t enough.”Sheswallowed, her eyes watering with gratitude.He’d lost his wings because he’dtried to save her from Drayger, and now this?She could never repay him.Not ina million years.But therewassomething she could do for him.“I knowit’s not much, but I can take away your pain if you want.”
“I’m not in pain.”He guzzled a good fifth of the bottle.
“Yeah,” she said, “you are.And I can take it away.Well, itwon’t be completely gone, but it’ll be manageable.”
“I’m fine.”His voice pitched low with a dark,alcohol-soaked rasp.“I’m healed.”
She moved to him, planting her palm on his sternum, carefulto keep her energy siphon turned off.She didn’t need the mind-scramblingincoherencyright now.
“I’m not talking about physical pain, and I think you knowthat.”Tentatively, she eased her hand to the right, covering his heart.Itthudded faster now, his pulse pounding into her palm as if trying to match thecadence of her own heartbeat.“I can help.Please, let me help.”
A battlewarredin his expression,a look she’d seen before, back when her brother had come home from a missionthat haunted him.He’d wanted to talk, but his pride, or maybe his militaryorders, hadn’t let him.
“No one has ever helped me before,” he said, hissingle-barrel-whiskey smooth voice turned rotgut-vodka rough.“No one but mysiblings.”
“You lost your wings because you helped me.”She steppedback so she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him and so he could seeevery genuine emotion on her face.“Jordan explained how much of a risk it was,and what you stand to lose by breaking rules.I don’t understand this MemitimCouncil thing, but it sounds like there’s nothing more you want than to sit onit and change things for the better.So let me do this for you.It’s the onething I’m really,really goodat.”
For a long, torturous moment, he said nothing.Then,finally, the hard set of his shoulders relaxed, although the wariness in hiseyes remained.
“How?”
Man, she needed a drink for this, and his vodka lookedtasty.“There’s a reason I’m a masseuse,” she said, holding out her empty waterglass with a gesture at his liquor bottle.As he poured a generous couple ofshots, she continued.“I recharge my powers through touch.I absorb negativeenergy and emotions and turn them into fuel for my abilities.”She sipped herdrink, enjoying the sting of alcohol on her lips.“My clients leave feelinghappy and lighter, and I’m now Portland’s most in-demand masseuse.”
And not just Portland.Spas all over the country wanted tohire her, offering her more money, places to live, exclusive client lists.She’d even been approached by the owner of a world-renowned Swedish resort anda Hollywood celebrity wanting a personal live-in masseuse.Thanks, but nothanks.She liked her quiet life of obscurity and didn’t want to move.Portlandsuited her.With its quirky and laid-back personality, world-famous restaurantsand breweries, and endless things to do, the city felt like home the waySacramento, where she’d grown up, never had.
“Soyou want to give me a massage?”
“That’s one method.It’s the slow one.”She paused for aheartbeat and then, before she changed her mind, blurted, “There’s also a fastone.”
“Yeah?”He took a swig of vodka, the tendons in his throatundulating with each swallow.“What the hell.Let’s do the fast one.”
“Don’t you even want to know what it is?”
“I don’t care what it is.My father kicked me out of hisrealm, I probably lost any chance I had to sit on the Memitim Council, and twobrothers I’d never met just dug my wings out of my body with their bare hands.”He barked out a bitter laugh.“Fuck it.I can handle anything.Just do it.”
Abruptly, her body flushed with heat, but her brain balked.She generally avoided the second method, the one that was the hallmark of hersuccubus heritage.It was too intense.Too intimate.When her partner orgasmed,more than just his seed rushed into her body.She got a blast of power sopleasurable that it would send her into an extended orgasm of insane pleasure,but she also got a head full of emotions that came with little or no context.There might be a mix of sadness, anger, love, jealousy...And unless herpartner told her everything he was feeling ahead of time, she was left with aknot of emotions that tangled her up inside for hours.It was one of thereasons she’d avoided relationships.
But damn...Hawkyn tempted her.Yes, he was angry right now,but angels were good, right?How much emotional baggage could there possiblybe?
No one has ever helped me before.
Okay, maybe there was a lot.Everyone she’d talked to hadmentioned that Memitim grew up in the most atrocious situations imaginable, andeven after they’d been plucked from the human world and introduced to the workthey’d been bred to do, life still didn’t seem that great.How could it be whenyou had no choice about how you lived or the job you were doing?She might havegone into the spa business because it seemed like a good way to collect theenergy she needed to survive, but the truth was that she enjoyed it.She likedmaking people feel good.Happy, positive people were what the world needed.Andfrom what she’d seen, Memitim could especially use some sort of underworld spa.
