Page 12 of Devil’s Snare

And I planned to ask, right after I broke into her apartment.

Thank you, Cyber.

Ignoring the guy as they parted, I decided to leave before she saw me and rode to her address. I wanted to be there before she opened the door. Once I parked my bike on the street, I began to climb the exterior stairs outside her building. It was way too fucking easy to get inside her apartment from the fire escape, and that irritated me.

She didn’t expect me to be there when she entered, forgetting to turn on any lights, which worked for me. I sat on her couch in the dark, right beside the lamp. Startled the shit outta her when I flicked it on.

So easily frightened, Bambi.

But when I pinned her against the door, and her addictive scent invaded my brain again, I couldn’t think beyond the need to press my lips to her skin, to taste her, mark her.

The fuck?

And now, I sat in a chair across from her bed, watching her sleep. I didn’t do this shit. I never obsessed over a woman.

So why her?

I shoved up from the chair and approached the bed. Gwen looked peaceful. For the first time since I met her, she didn’t feel sad. Her grief wasn’t threatening to break her down again at any moment.

On her nightstand, I noticed a framed photo. Three people. Gwen, the guy from the diner, and a woman wearing military cammies. Marines, by the look of it.

When my gaze immediately focused on her again, reluctant to tear away, I grew antsy. The urge to touch her, to drag my fingers across her skin, became too much. I had to leave.

Just before I reached her window, she said my name.

“Cin?”

I didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“Are you leaving?”

“Gotta run. Club needs me.”

“Oh. Okay. Goodnight.” The soft, husky tone of her voice whipped at my composure.

In a rush, I exited her apartment the same way I entered, shutting the window and climbing down the fire escape ladder. Once I reached my bike, I started the engine. Before I rode away, I glanced up to Gwen’s bedroom window.

She stood with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, watching me with an intensity I didn’t understand. Did I make her curious? Probably. I sensed that emotion, along with a few others.

When I lifted my hand and motioned for her to lock the window, she understood. I watched her latch it with relief.

Neither of us moved for a full minute.

After she finally stepped back, I rode away from her building and back to Deathrock Cemetery. She occupied my thoughts the entire time. When I parked my bike outside the cemetery gates, I listened for Omen. No howling. No growling. He wasn’t hunting.

Fiend stood at the entrance like he’d been waiting for me. G.D. probably ordered him to stick around and watch for Omen. As a church grim, my pet, and I used the term loosely, prowled and hunted Deathrock as his ancestors had for hundreds of years. But beasts like him only followed a chosen master, and they chose it without guidance or interference.

Omen chose me.

Fiend ticked his chin toward me as I approached. “Omen is quiet. Whatever got him riled up isn’t an issue anymore.”

“Good to know. Appreciate you coming by.”

“Not a big deal. G.D. seemed a bit on edge tonight. Figured I could sort this out for him.”

“A lot on edge,” I agreed. “I bet he brings it up in church.”

“He should. Club can’t have his back if he doesn’t let us in.”