“That’s my parents. I dangle between both worlds,” Eve said, coming back into the room.
He could see that. Her mixed-race heritage was visible in her skin that was a lighter shade of her mother’s aged gold, but she’d inherited her dark green eyes from her father. However, instead of the tall, robust build of her father, or her mother’s curviness, Eve appeared fragile, delicate.
Reynner looked up. His heart tripped. Eve had reached across the counter and was plugging in her cell to recharge. Her top shifted, revealing a hand-span of gorgeous tan skin.
He wanted to walk over, slide his palms on her bare skin while he ran his lips down every inch of her…
“My dad was an archaeologist,” she said, oblivious to just how close to the edge he was. “He met Mom while on a dig in Morocco, fell in love, and married her.”
Hell, he never should have tasted her, now it was all he could think of—
His jaw hardening, he forced his mind off dangerous needs. Setting the frame aside, he picked up the metal sculpture of a horse rearing up on its hind legs. The untamed wildness, the energy of the animal captured in the metal molding was exquisite…and full of life, just like the artist.
His gaze drifted back to her. “Where do you craft these?”
She’d opened a plastic container and was scooping up something in her hand. “I have a studio in a warehouse down the street next to this building.”
“You have a rare gift.”
She cast him a surprised look as if praise were the last thing she’d expected. “Thanks. That’s just something I did for myself. You can have it if you’d like.”
He stared at the sculpture. Her generosity touched something deep inside of him. It took Reynner a moment to collect himself. Usually, gifts always came with a price tag—namely him.
“Eve?” He waited until she looked at him. “Don’t ever invite anyone you don’t know into your home. No immortal can enter without an invitation. But I put up a protection ward, too. An added precaution.”
She blinked, then nodded. “Oh… Okay. The only ones who come here anyway are my friends.” She shut the container and disappeared from sight.
Following the sound of her voice, the horse gripped tightly in his hand, he found her kneeling on the kitchen floor. A shoebox with one side cut out was layered with…straw? Fresh breadcrumbs were scattered in a corner.
“Hey there, little guy. I'm sorry I wasn’t here,” she said softly, caressing the bird’s wing with a gentle finger dusted with crumbs.
And his cock hardened again, the same way it had this morning when Eve had stroked his wing. She’d had no idea what she’d done. He’d been moments from taking her right there in the air. Her tender touch had diminished the nightmares that usually sprung up when anyone touched his wings. But Eve, with her innocence and gentleness, had made him forget, even if it was for a brief moment.
He set the horse on the counter and crouched beside her, his leathers creaking.
“He won’t fly,” she told him, “and he doesn’t seem to be hurt—” She broke off when he reached for the bird and eyed him with concern.
Did she think he’d hurt her pet or tackle her to the floor with the bird as witness?
Reynner picked up the dove and scanned it, then zoomed in on the injury. He let his power flow out of him to heal the hairline fracture he found in the fragile skeleton of its wing. The silvery blue light coalesced into the wound, and, moments later, the bird flew out of his palm, a flutter of wings filling the apartment.
A startled laugh escaped Eve. “What did you do?”
“He had a small crack in his humerus bone. It affects the flight muscle, it’s why he became grounded.”
“I didn’t know. I thought he liked staying with me. Thank you.”
He saw the guilt on her face. She’d grown attached to the avian. “No one could have known,” he reassured her, then added softly, “You have to let him go, Eve.”
Her mouth opened as if to protest, then closed. She nodded. Rising to her feet, she walked over to where the bird settled on the low wooden beam of the ceiling and tried to coax him down.
Reynner followed her. “Eve, it’s safer if you step away.” She wouldn’t like what would happen standing under a perched bird.
“Why?” She frowned at him, looked back at the creature and enchanting color surged across her face. Hastily, she backed away, a wry curve to her lips. “Right.”
Her smile beckoned him like a flame. He could feel his control cracking. Shit, too risky, he had to get out of here. He lifted his hand and willed the bird to him. It swooped down to grasp his finger with its tiny talons. Reynner headed for the door. “I’ll see you later.”
“Wait.” He heard her light footsteps hurrying after him. “What about the scroll? Aren’t we supposed to stake out the museum or something?”
