Her chest constricted. Feeling as if she’d suffocate if she remained inhisroom, Shae got off the bed and swayed as she stood. Damn. She reached for her jacket, searched for her Dextrose in the pocket and found just one left. Crap. The rest were still in her suitcase. She popped the candy into her mouth. It would hold her for a while, but she neededfood.
Navigating the cracked corridor and the sunken living room, she found the kitchen easily enough. Warmth surrounded her from the wood-burning stove someone had lit. An enormous fridge near the open window appeared to run off a generator, its drone drifting into the kitchen. A rustic table and six mismatched chairs finished off the décor. Two of the six were tucked under the table and appeared fairly new. The others, older ones, had boxes stacked on them and were aligned along thewall.
Shae ransacked the cupboards and found dishes but no food. The fridge, however, revealed loads of energy drinks, grapes, and some lifeless potatoes. She swiped a bunch of green grapes and ate several ofthem.
Scratching around in the freezer, she found steaks, took several, and dropped them in the sink. Then she hunted through the drawers for a knife, anything to peel the sad-lookingspuds.
She didn’t understand how the castle in Long Island appeared like a fairytale, and this one looked as if it belonged to a poor relative. But being men, they probably didn’tcare.
Dammit, where did they keep the knives? Did they even have any ofthose?
“I wish I had a blade. Heck, even the black one I fought with—” Something heavy appeared in her palm, glowing eerily. A muffled shriek caught in her throat, Shae jumped back, the obsidian dagger dropping onto the table with a loudclatter.
Holy shit! Where had that come from? It looked a lot like the one she’d found in Dagan’s truck and threw away after the demon attack. Uneasily, she glanced up at the ceiling, but there was no porthole that it could have fallen through. A slack feeling in her gut, her gaze dropped to the dagger once more. Gingerly, she picked up the blade, but it didn’t light upagain.
Oh, man… She glanced at the door, hoping someone would miraculously appear—like the dagger had—and explain all this. But she remainedalone.
Okay, Shae, in the past twenty-four hours, you’ve met people who hunt evil demons, you’ve teleported…heck, you even stepped through a portal! And the man whose room you now use is immortal, so why not a magical daggerappearing?
Ugh. She was going to give herself a headache. Right now, she needed to eat. She started peeling the potatoes. And what do you know? The dagger did a great job in the kitchen,too.
An hour later, the mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat permeated the place. She scooped out the freshly fried chips and drained them on a rack over a plate, then popped one into her mouth. As she chewed, she frowned at the small fried heap. Nope, those wouldn’t be enough for a man Dagan’s size or if the others turned up. Fetching several more potatoes, she paredagain.
The sound of booted footsteps drew closer. The door opened, and Dagan entered. He’d put on a gray t-shirt, the fabric stretching over his wide chest. He crossed to the shelf oppositeher.
Damn. His hair, like a sheet of black satin, did brush his sexy, jean-cladbackside.
She looked up, and heat crawled across her face when she found him watching her. No point in pretending she wasn’t eyeballing him. With her pale coloring, it was like a glowing bulb declaring her guilt. She cocked an eyebrow. “What?”
He didn’t comment, merely uncorked the bottle of red wine he’d procured and poured some into a crystal goblet. Still silent, he leaned against the cupboard and took a sip. With his long, dark hair, ridiculously handsome face, and frightening charisma wrapping around her like a noose, her breath caught at just how easily he drewher.
Yep, just like her, to want what she couldn’thave.
She lowered her gaze and started peelingagain.
“Where the hell did you getthat?”
At his sudden roar, Shae jumped. The dagger slipped from her hand onto the table. Scowling, she snapped, “The pantry. I’m hungry. There’s nofood.”
He stalked closer, his eyes like molten fire, the orange sparks visible. “The blade, Shae, where did you get it? Did you go to the other warriors’ rooms?” he demanded, suddenly looking like he’d swallowed a handful of brokenglass.
“So what if I did? You have nothing in this place, no cutlery at all. I can’t use my fingers to peelthese.”
“Where did you get the dagger?” he repeated. His tone held an edgenow.
Sheesh, so much drama over a stupid blade. “If you must know, I couldn’t find a paring knife, and I sort of wished I had something, even a dagger, and this thing just appeared in my hand. Ugh, I know, it’s an implausible story, but it damn well happened,” she endeddefensively.
“Wheredid you first take it?” He sounded strangled as he set his goblet on thetable.
What was with all the interrogation, as if she’d stolen the damn thing? “I didn’t steal it, okay? The night those demons attacked us, I saw one just like this in your truck and used it, only I dropped it in the alleyafterwards.”
His color drained. Dagan lowered his head, his fists planted on the table, his hair cascading down to spill onto the wooden surface. She had to clench her fists to stop from reaching out and sliding her fingers through the black silk. Instead, she scooped the peelings onto aplate.
“What is that enticingsmell?”
At the strange new voice, Shae glanced at the man sauntering into the kitchen wearing faded jeans. Tall, like all the other Guardians, he sported a buzz cut that left a brown shadow over his skull. An array of ink peeked out from beneath the neckline of his t-shirt, and more ran down his muscular arms. He sniffed appreciatively, his cool gaze settling on her. “Well, now, D-man, you didn’t say we had aguest?”
Dagan didn’t move, didn’t answer the man, who then shrugged and said, “I go byNik.”
