A chill of trepidation slithered down her spine. “It’s not just Kas, is it?”
He didn’t respond.
Dread bled through her. Nia grabbed the shopping bags and hurried after him. A blaze of heat swept through her, and she gasped.
He pivoted, his gaze skating over her, then around them. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just tired.” She inhaled another harsh breath, fingers clenched around the handles of her shopping bags, wanting desperately to yank off her jacket and sweater now. “Can we get out of here, please?”
He frowned, then inclined his head. Once amidst the trees, he grasped her arm and flashed them.
They reformed in the abbey’s courtyard. Dizziness swamped her. Her bags fell, and she grabbed his shirt before she embarrassed herself and collapsed to her knees.
He’d probably let her fall as payback.
One of his hands slid around her waist, supporting her. His touch, even through her sweater, soothed. “Are you okay?”
She looked up, drowning in his incredibly beautiful eyes, and something shifted in their otherworldly depths. He blinked, and as fast, he took a step back, as if she had the cooties or something.
“Go inside,” he said, his tone back to impassive. “It is cold out here.”
Her life was falling apart, and she wasn’t even worthy of a little comfort? She should have known. Except for her friends, comfort was never freely given to her, and certainly not from this angel. Mouth tight, Nia trudged indoors.
In the kitchen, she dropped her bags on the table and sagged in a chair, exhaustion overwhelming her. She rubbed her trembling hands over her hot face.
Lore set the large white box down and pushed it closer to her. He didn’t ask if she was okay or needed anything. No, she was on her own, like always.
He turned for the outside door, then stopped. “Eat.”
She lowered her hands. “What happened?”
“Your breakfast. I asked them to box it?—”
Nia pushed the container away, her hunger diminishing. The prickling energy swirled through her, making breathing harder. “No, I meant what did you sense in the village? Was it demons?”
“Demons have inhabited this world for a long time.”
“I know that.” She jerked up from her chair and scratched the scar on her palm. “My best friend’s mated to one. Her family are demon hunters. I mean, for the evil ones.”
He slid his hands into his pants pockets. “I know. If that is all…” He opened the outside door. “I won’t be long.”
Darn it! Why wouldn’t he tell her what was wrong?
He might not like her being close to him, but this was her life on the line, and she needed answers. She’d drag it out of him if she had to.
Too fired up to let the exhaustion and the damn heat churning within to slow her down, she stomped after the frustrating angel as his tall figure disappeared around the outbuilding. He wasn’t going to evade her again.
She skirted the brick shed and crashed into his back, where he’d halted, a loudoomphescaping her. He didn’t even glance back.
She shot around to his front. “What’s going on, Lore?”
His attention remained on his cell.
“For pity’s sake, tell me something! I’m tired of not knowing, of living in fear because a demon wants to drain me. And I know someone else is after me, too, but you won’t say who or why!”
Slowly, his gaze lifted to hers. “Because you are likely a psionic.”
“Wh-what?” She blinked, confusion replacing her ire.
