She didn’t bother following when he made a detour through her bedroom.
With a deep exhale, she kicked a cushion out of her way, then moved to grab her iPad from the couch. The screen was shattered, but it was there. Of course, the hardback copy ofAcheronhad been slaughtered, too.
Obsidian strolled out of her bedroom.
“I don’t think they took anything.” She glanced around at all the expensive things they’d left in their wake. “Now can I call the police?”
“No. We can’t.”
She jerked her head toward him. “What do you mean,can’t? This is my stuff, Obsidian. It needs to be replaced. I’m not even sure renter’s insurance’ll cover it, but at the least, I need a police report.”
A sound outside the window caught her attention. Penelope peered out through the broken blinds to see three large men slamming car doors, their eyes fixed on her Honda. Since it was now dark outside, the lights in her apartment beamed out, all but shouting her presence. It wouldn’t have been a problem, except the biggest one’s eyes lifted, met hers through the window. There was something definitely wrong about him, and not just the eerie malevolence she sensed in him.
When they took off at a jog, she muttered a not-so-delicateoh, shit.
Obsidian grabbed her from behind. Plucking her right off her feet like she weighed nothing. Before she could ask himwhat the hell, he was depositing her in her bedroom.
He lifted his sunglasses, met her gaze with narrowed eyes. “Do not move, Penelope. No matter what. Stay here.”
She glared at him, but the only response she got was the door shut in her face.
Lovely.
A few seconds later, she heard the sound of a crash. Like someone had kicked in the front door.
Instinct had her grabbing the closest thing she could find, which happened to be a slender wooden vase. She doubted it would do much damage, but hey, it was something. Penelope flattened her body to the wall behind the door, her goal to be hidden in case someone came in.
Her heart was pounding, blood racing in her veins, the roar in her ears reminding her that she was alive and, for the time being, well.
“Don’t move,” she muttered, mocking Obsidian’s stern tone.
To be fair, she considered waltzing right out there like some goddess of the Amazon, taking them on with her fists. If she thought for a second she could mete out her own brand of justice, she would’ve gone after them.
Sound exploded from the kitchen. More glass shattering, a few grunts as though the exertion was taxing on the body.
Something hit the wall with a heavy thud followed by a screech that had her eyes widening. More grunts and groans erupted, the distinct sounds of a fight.
Then everything went eerily silent.
Seconds turned to minutes, and she started to panic, worried something had happened to Obsidian.
Penelope reached for the doorknob but came up short when it opened, nearly knocking her on her ass. She stared up into Obsidian’s face, relieved that he was in one piece. In fact, he didn’t look fazed. Certainly not like he’d just gone hand-to-hand with three guys.
“Where’d they go?”
“They’ve been dealt with.”
Obsidian pulled her against him. She was about as resistant as a leaf in a hurricane and shaking almost as much. With her head on his abdomen—he really was ridiculously tall, wasn’t he?—she allowed his strength and warmth to console her.
“Can I call the police now?” she asked when she mustered up the energy to pull back.
“No.”
Stepping into the living room, Penelope frowned. “Why not?” She came to an abrupt halt and nearly tipped ass over teakettle. “Ew. Gross. Whatisthat?”
There on the floor was… She wasn’t even sure what it was. Thick, black goop—it looked like tar and smelled just as ripe—coated the floor and part of the wall.
“Close your eyes,” he insisted.
