“Come on then.” Aerie rose, motioning him to stand as well.

As he gripped the armrests, she scooted back two steps. Her reaction to him shook her. She wanted to keep her distance from him, yet at the same time she madly needed to close the gap and see if the energy sparking between them would skyrocket at his touch.

He slowed his movements as if he knew the state of her nerves, and unfolded his long frame from the chair. His black tactical pants strained at the seams as his thighs bunched.

“I don’t mean to scare you.” Finn shot his weight to one hip, his stance casual and non-threatening.

“You don’t.” Her face went hot with the lie.

“What do we need to do to get out of here?”

She’d never thought about what it took to move through the Hollow. When a person was reborn with all her memories, immortal transportation came naturally. “Um…well, you have to conjure an image of your destination first, then grab my arm and kind of instruct your body to lift off.”

“I see two problems with that scenario. First, I don’t have a clue where you live. And second, if I touch you right now, we can expect an entirely different kind of lift off.”

The heat in her cheeks flared hotter. “Oh.” Killing her urge to touch him and experience the kind of launch he was thinking of, she skirted the subject in favor of answering his first problem. “I live in the other side of the carriage house from Dearly Beloved. You’ve been to my office so you know where we’re headed. Unless you need to go to your car first to retrieve anything.”

Finn patted the firearm holstered at his side. “I’m good.” He held out his hand, palm up, and waited.

She gingerly laid her fingers just above his wrist, skipping the chance to slip her fingers between his. Low-grade buzzing filled her with the touch. Amusement softened his eyes to a shade of warm chocolate.

“Chicken,” he taunted.

“Smart chicken,” she replied.

He chuckled and held her gaze as he laid his other hand over hers.

The crazy buzz in her core kicked into full-fledged zips, making her heart trip. Her body strained to his, as if her breasts had a mind of their own and wanted to be glued to his hard pecs.

What the Hades is wrong with me?

She sucked a breath in through her nose—let it sigh back out. “Imagine my office and center the image in your brain.”

“What if I’d prefer to imagine my bed?”

“Finn.”

“Okay, your office.” He shut his eyes and his shoulders lifted, then fell. “Now what?”

She pitched her voice low to avoid breaking his concentration. “The smoothest way is to levitate us off the floor about six inches. Just…um, picture some kind of lift under your feet.”

Finn jerked, dragging her sideways and up an inch, before dropping them hard back on the ground. “Oops. Sorry.” Eyes still closed, he tried again.

This time, they floated up smoothly. Finn lifted one eyelid and tipped his head slightly to peer at the ground. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. He really should smile more.

Aerie chuckled. “Good job, Finn. Now, picture us in my office and let the image fly like an arrow from your brain to sky. Then follow it.” It was the only way she could think to describe how to actually get them where they were going.

Their forms began to mist, hers to yellow, Finn’s to blue with a yellow center. She stared at it as they slipped into the hollow. That his core was the same color as her aura surprised her. As if he was meant for her.

They lurched forward, slowed, veered right, then left, and finally straightened out and swept ahead on a neat trajectory. Just like a student driver the first time out. Aerie tensed, ready to take control if need be. But it seemed Finn took to travel through the Hollow like a pro.

“The world is gray.” Finn projected his thoughts directly into her mind.

“Once you get used to it, you’ll catch glimpses of the real world as we pass. I saw Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower right after it was built in 1889.”

His discomfort rumbled in her head. “Still too freaked out by this mode of transportation to look for anything else.”

Their forward movement slowed and the atmosphere tightened around them once again. In her vision, her office solidified. But the angle was wrong. Finn had parked them on the surface of her desk, her on the bottom…his solid body pressing into her.

“Um, you couldn’t have landed us on the floor?”

“You said imagine us in your office. This is the picture my mind conjured. Sorry.” The sly arch of his brows said he was anything but contrite.

She pushed his shoulders, intent on freeing herself before she could be happy he’d pictured them this way. With exaggerated reluctance, he rolled off her, landing with cat-like grace next to the desk.

“You’re supposed to be protecting me. That includes from yourself.” Aerie scrambled to her feet, jerking her shirt down. In her most secret heart, she’d admit she rather liked the weight of him on her. But she sure wouldn’t ever mention it to him.

Had she ever wanted-not-wanted someone with this much intensity? Flashes of his humor, his decency, his compassion vied with his grumpy, surly attitude. As a package, Finn was entirely confusing. Heat blasted up her neck as her thoughts turned toward his package. She fought the need to lower her eyes and forced her gaze over his shoulder.

“Come on.” She led the man from the office, and hustled toward the residential half of the building.

Finn stopped her from opening the front door with a hand over hers. “Let me go first.”

Heat seeped into the back of her hand, whether from her attraction to him, or due to his worry for her safety, she wasn’t sure. Well, she did know, but that was just one more thing she’d never admit to herself. “Finn, I regularly charm my home. No one can enter without an invitation.”

She shook his hand away. The knob twisted under her hand and she crossed the threshold. Finn didn’t immediately follow. He bore a confused look, as if he wasn’t sure he’d be able to step inside.

Biting back a laugh, she motioned him forward. “You’re a partisan, not a vampire. You don’t require an invitation. It’s kind of a failsafe.”

He took a hesitant step forward, hunching his shoulders as he moved through the entry. Once he stood in her hall, he dominated the space. His physical presence shrank the size of the small foyer. Again, Aerie felt herself strain toward him, but squashed the urge.

She scooted around him, heading toward the kitchen. She pulled up short as she entered. Finn bumped into her from behind and pressed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. The remains of her meal with Phillip still littered the table. It seemed like days ago that the call had come about the riot at the park. She suppressed a shudder and hastened to carry the dirty dishes to the sink.

Finn picked up the loaf of crusty bread from the cutting board. “Do you have a plastic bag?”

“You don’t need to help. Just leave it.” She clapped the lid on the pan, promising to clean the mess properly tomorrow.

He opened her pantry and rooted around for something.

“It’s a little rude to start hunting through someone’s cabinets.” Why was she letting this bother her so much? Bracing her hand on the stove, she shoved the irritation down. “The guest room is down the hall, second door on the left. The bathroom is right across the hall.”

He lifted his chin, but said nothing.

His silence irked her more. She knew she was being irrational, but she didn’t know how to deal with her insane attraction to him. Probably best to keep it professional. She stepped over to the door to the yard and opened the small digital panel next to the jamb. “I’ll set the alarm before I go to bed. Make yourself at home.” The keypad emitted tiny chirps as she punched in the date of her first incarnation. “Good night.”

When he didn’t reply, she huffed out a breath and swept from the room.

Now she was being rude, but running away from him seemed like a good course of action.

Entering her bedroom normally brought a ton of peace. The sage green spread and creamy walls were meant to induce tranquility. Tonight, the colors failed miserably. She closed the door with a solid clunk. Jerking her shirt over her head, she tossed it into a basket in the closet, then shimmied out of her jeans and dropped them in as well. Her bra went in next, and she reached into the top drawer on the built-in dresser and retrieved a thin T-shirt and pajama pants.

Reaching overhead, she snagged the chain on the hanging light and tugged, plunging the closet into darkness. The small lamp on the bedside table was on, casting a pale swatch of light on the colorful area rug next to the bed. Climbing onto the soft mattress, she paused, listening for sounds of her houseguest, and battling the need to go talk to him. Finn had been through a lot tonight. He was probably still freaked out.

She’d just put her hand to the covers to pull them away when her door swung open. Finn stood framed in the dim rectangle of light.

She jerked the covers to her chin like some kind of vestal virgin. Those girls had been annoying. “What are you doing?”

* * *

What was he doing? When she’d disappeared into her bedroom, it was like a siren’s song to his body. The idea of her, curled up in her bed, tucked tight against him, rocked him to the soles of his feet. “I’m your bodyguard, right?”

“My partisan.” The timbre of her voice, miffed and wary, still flowed like silk over his senses.

“I take the job seriously.” He advanced toward the bed, pulling his gun from the holster. It clunked when he placed it on the table. His hands went to his belt.

“You’re not sleeping in here.”

The belt swished against the fabric of his pants as he pulled it free. The buckle rattled as it clunked to the floor. “Yeah, I am. You’re on my side. Move over.”

“This is my bed. It’s my side. And you are not sleeping in it. There’s a perfectly good room next door. That’s yours.”

“I’ll be sleeping in here. This side is closest to the door. That makes it my side.” He barely gentled the tone he used when ordering a perp to freeze or lower his weapon.

Aerie lowered her brows over narrowed eyes and pressed her lips together in a tight seam.

God, he wanted to kiss the scowl right off her face. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps straining the cotton of his long-sleeve shirt. “According to Mars, you’re my responsibility. I’ll be sleeping in this room. Doesn’t matter if it’s on the bed or the floor. But the bed would be more comfortable.”

“Finn, this is unnecessary. We’ve battled Hate today. We probably have a couple of days before she surfaces again.”

“Doesn’t matter if she disappears for a month. Protecting you…being prepared…is my job.” His voice was muffled as he swept his T-shirt off.

As he pulled his head from the fabric, the change in her expression was a dead giveaway that she knew they’d reached a stalemate.

“You can put pillows between us, if you’re afraid I’ll maul you or something.” It was going to be a long night for them both. Finn caught himself holding his breath, praying she’d let him into her bed.

Without easing her glare, she shuffled to the far edge of the mattress. After snapping off the light, she flopped onto her side, back toward him. A heavy breath filled the quiet air. Her motions were rough as she jerked the sheet and blanket to her shoulders.

The bed dipped when Finn sat on it. His back muscles stretched against the heavy tension in them as he bent to untie his boots. One clattered to the floor, followed quickly by the other. Another sharp huff of breath sighed into the room as he pulled the covers back.

Aerie tensed, waiting for him to settle. His foot connected with hers under the blankets; his knee grazed her thigh as he stretched out next to her, his front to her back. Close, but not quite touching, although he wanted to wrap her in his arms and pull her into his body. Her warmth seeped across the small space between them.

“This isn’t easy for me, you know.” His breath stirred her hair.

“I’m sorry for being such a brat. It really isn’t like me at all.” Contrition filled her tone like sand being poured into bags, heavy and solid. “For the goddess’s sakes, my aura is yellow. My temperament is normally pretty sunny.” Reaching up, she turned the lamp back on. She flipped over to face him.

Pale light streaked across the bed, illuminating her hair in a nimbus of gorgeous red. Her eyes glittered in soft light.

He lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure it isn’t easy to have the fate of the world resting on your head. I suppose you are entitled to be mad.”

“Entitled or not, I have a newly minted immortal to look after.” Tucking her hand under her cheek, she stared into his eyes. “It’s not easy to find out you’re a god, either. How are you doing with that?”

“Not something I ever thought I’d hear.” A wry snort escaped his lips. “But, it helps explain a lot.” Propping his elbow on the bed, he rested his head on his hand.

“Like your blackouts?”

“Mostly.” And why it had never felt like he belonged to his family. “Mostly, I wonder how different things would have been if my grandmother hadn’t died. Would I be a cop? Or would I have turned my gifts toward really making a difference?”

“You have made a difference in so many lives already.”

The corners of his lips sagged down. “Not in Meredith Miller’s life.”

“Who’s she?”

For a second he debated brushing her question off, asking a few of his own. Or giving up entirely on conversation, kissing her, rolling her under him and losing himself in her sweet heat. His body tensed and his mouth went dry when her tongue snaked over her lips. She plumped her pillow and waited, one brow cocked.

She’d given him no indication she’d welcome his advances. Just the opposite, in fact. Digging his fingers into his scalp, he attempted to focus. “The day Randy Morgan got married, Anson and I took on a call. Meredith’s husband had chosen that day to beat her up. She wouldn’t press charges and even went back to the loser. A few days later, he’d beaten her to death.” His throat tightened and ached, and he looked away from the horror on Aerie’s face. “It seems like when my help is most needed, I fail. If I’d known that day about my immortality, could I have made a difference to her?” Speaking the question caused bleak darkness to swirl around his chest.

Aerie touched her fingertips to his jaw. “Not necessarily.”

The churn slowed then dropped away, leaving calm resolution in its wake. “How do you do that? Calm me with just a touch?”

“I’m a Muse. That’s my gift.” She moved her hand over his shoulder, dancing her fingertips over the mark on his back. “The thing about mortals is they possess free will. We don’t tell a human what to do, but we make suggestions. Whether they opt to accept the inspiration or not is entirely up to them.”

The blemish tingled and felt alive under her touch. The frisson of sensation traveled at light speed through his body, landing low in his groin. His cock jumped, making him suck in a sharp breath. Clenching his glutes to keep from rocking toward her, he tried to focus on her words. “So, even though you hit someone with inspiration, they don’t have to act on it? Are you saying regardless of what I did, Meredith Miller was going to do what she wanted?”

“In a nutshell. Do you always do what you’re told?”

“Rarely.” He slid his hand up her arm, until he reached her shoulder and drew her closer. He hovered his mouth over hers and whispered softly. “For example, if you suggested right now that I shouldn’t kiss you, I doubt I’d listen.”

Her eyes flared open, awareness deep within them. She didn’t tell him no.