Zenon was afraid to move, to breathe, in case he woke and this turned out to be nothing but the best damn dream of his entire life.

His right ass cheek was numb, and his hip was aching, but he didn’t give a fuck. Mia’s warm hand rested on his chest where he’d put it an hour ago, and she hadn’t moved since. Her soft body was pressed into his, the entire length of her connected to him—and to his utter shock, he wasn’t freaking out. This felt…good. No, it felt fucking amazing.

Every puff of her breath tickled his neck and sent tingles across his scalp, and that felt good, too. The effect of having her close was a revelation, an addiction, a glut of sensation he couldn’t get a handle on but never wanted to end.

She’d seen him at his worst, seen him weak and vulnerable, but in that moment he couldn’t make himself care. He’d suffered far worse humiliation in his life, and what had happened here with Mia wasn’t that, and he refused to dirty it by going to that dark place now.

Still, he knew this was insanity. Why was he doing this to himself? He should get up, get the hell away. But he couldn’t. No way was he moving from this spot. Mia had taken care of him, even after the way he’d treated her. She’d never left his side, had lay down on the hard floor and used her body to warm him. Talked to him to take his mind off the pain. Hearing about her life, listening to her voice—yeah, he’d loved every minute of it, wanted to know more, know everything there was to know about her.

But this was all he could have. It would have to last him a lifetime. So, no, he wasn’t leaving this hard fucking spot on the carpet for anything.

She moved then, her arm tightening around him as she pressed in closer. He squeezed his eyes closed, absorbing it all, locking it in his memory. In a few minutes she’d wake and this would all be over.

He knew the minute she did. Her soft, pliant body stiffened moments before her fingers curled against him and her hand slipped away. The place her palm had rested went cold.

Sitting up, she scooted back a fraction. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what happened.” She looked down at him. “Are you okay?”

Zenon sat up, and his muscles protested after being locked up for so long. The blood rushed back to his ass cheek, causing pins and needles. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m good.”

Her gaze traveled over him like she was assessing him, making sure he wasn’t trying to bullshit her. “Good. That’s good. I was worried.”

She didn’t look away and he knew she was waiting for him to offer some kind of explanation. But there wasn’t one, not one he could give her anyway.

“I, ah…” His eyes drifted lower. Holy shit. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. She wore only a thin top and her panties. It took major effort not to stare. Mia was all lush curves and creamy smooth skin. The feel of those curves against him were now imprinted in his flesh.

She looked down at herself. “Oh.” Heat fired up her cheeks.

“I’ll just…” Zenon stood and turned his back while she gathered her clothes.

There were rustling sounds behind him then he felt her move closer. “I’m dressed.”

Thank fuck for that. When he turned back, he had to fight not to grin like an idiot. Her silky red hair was mussed but seriously sexy, and her sweater was on inside out and around the wrong way. When she tilted her head to the side he could see where the carpet had left an imprint on the left side of her face. She looked cute.

He must have been staring because she looked down at herself. “What?”

He stepped closer and touched the side of her face. Now he’d had a taste of her touch he couldn’t get enough. “I must have hogged the pillow.” His demon stirred, one hundred percent with him where this female was concerned.

When she lifted her hand, her fingers brushed his. And when she felt the dents in her skin, more heat hit her cheeks. This time he did grin, couldn’t help it. So. Fucking. Cute.

Her eyes widened then she ducked her head. “I don’t know what happened. I lay down and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I totally passed out.”

“Mia?” She looked up. “Thank you,” he rasped.

She bit her lip, blinked up at him. “It was…I was…” She shook her head. “Truthfully? I was scared to death. You were, God, you were cold, Zenon. So cold.”

“You warmed me.” Jesus, was that his voice?

Their stares locked and held. “Will you be okay now?”

“Yes.”

“Does it happen often?”

His hackles instantly rose. Anger was his usual tool to deflect these kinds of questions, but he didn’t feel that now. Mia only had concern for him. There was no ulterior motive behind her question. Still, old habits die hard. “Not really. It’s my shit to deal with, I guess.” He heard the don’t go there in his voice, and when she took a small step back, he knew the message was received loud and clear. Don’t ask the unstable one too many questions.

He hated himself.

“Right.” She released a breath and glanced around his place, her gaze landing on the clock. “Crap. I have to take off or I’ll be late for work.”

He shouldn’t drag this out, but… “I’ll give you a ride. It’s the least I can do.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. James offered earlier. I’ll just go find him.”

Wrong thing to say. Both he and his demon had a serious problem with that entire sentence. But by some miracle he kept the possessive surge burning in his gut from escaping in an inhuman roar, and instead grabbed the keys to his bike off the side table and pulled his jacket on. Grabbing his spare, he held it out for her. “Put this on.”

“Zenon, truly. It’s fine. You don’t owe me a thing.”

“Please, Mia. I need to do this.” And if she thought it was out of gratitude that was fine with him. He needed to do it because everything in him was screaming not to let her go, that Mia was his, and it was better than him tearing James’s head off for daring to offer her a lift.

When they got to the garage and walked right on past the SUVs lined up and stopped in front of his Harley, her mouth fell open.

“You expect me to get on that thing?”

In that moment there was nothing he wanted more. “Yes. Put the jacket on, Mia.”

“But there are perfectly good cars just over there.”

“They’re needed.” It was a complete lie and an asshole move. Turned out he was a glutton for punishment, a fool, but he wanted to feel the press of her body against his one more time.

“Oh. Okay.” She bit her lip. “Promise me you’ll go slow, though.”

He grinned for the second time since she’d woken up beside him, which would make that two times more than he had in his whole worthless life. “Jacket.”

She shook her head but yanked it on. It was too big, almost reached her knees, and the sleeves hung past her hands.

A weird vibration rumbled from the back of his throat, accompanied by a deep repetitive sound. Mia looked up from zipping it, eyes wide. “Did you just laugh at me?”

Shit. Is that what he’d done? He guessed he had.

She smiled, full wattage, and it was all for him. He turned away and climbed on the bike, not able to deal with the way that smile made him feel in that moment. The bike roared to life and he motioned for Mia to climb on behind him. She hesitated for a split second, but then straightened her spine, slung her bag across her shoulder, and hopped up.

“I’ll need to put my arms around you. I’m sorry. I know you don’t like that.”

“I know it’s you,” he said before he knew what was coming out of his mouth. Those words were revealing, but they were the truth. “Do you need me to stop by your place? Get your uniform?”

“No.” A pause. “How do you know I have a uniform?”

“Lucky guess.”

“The shirt’s in my bag. I wasn’t sure how long my training session with James would last.”

Fucking James. “Hang on tight.”

Her hands slid around his waist. And if on the way he took a less direct route after learning she tightened her hold and pressed closer when he went around corners, no one would blame him, right?

This had to last a lifetime after all.

* * *

“Night, Grace.” Mia waved goodbye to her self-defense instructor and headed out. She’d been coming twice a week for the last two weeks. After the fright she got walking home from work, thinking she was being followed, she decided to learn a few things about protecting herself. Grace was a demi-demon as well and an excellent teacher, totally kick-ass, and already Mia felt stronger and more confident.

The sky was starless, the air heavy, threatening rain. She pulled her coat tight around her. The wind had a bite and the yoga pants and T-shirt she wore underneath didn’t provide much in the way of insulation.

As usual the streets were busy, groups of people club hopping, laughing, out for a good night with friends.

God, she missed Chaya.

Talking to her sister over the phone wasn’t enough. She needed a day of eating junk food, gabbing, and doing each other’s nails, followed by a movie marathon of epic proportions. But that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

Chay was getting worried about her and had threatened several times to visit. As much as she wanted to see her sister, she’d never been able to hide anything from her, and she wasn’t ready to get into her mixed feelings where Zenon was concerned, especially after the lecture Chaya had already given her.

Chaya didn’t trust Zenon, maybe even feared him, and she knew her big sister would go all overprotective mama bear if she thought there was something between them. There was no reason to upset her, not when there was nothing actually going on…not really.

Like the bar, the gym was close to her apartment. Getting a cab was a waste of money and seemed ridiculous when her place was only a few blocks away. She refused to let her overactive imagination keep her locked up like a prisoner.

Being half demon and knowing of their existence made little difference. The demons that made it out of Hell usually lay low, preferring to stay under the knights’ radar. As far as she was concerned, she had more to fear from humans than any demon jumping out at her.

With nothing else to do but think, her head went right where she didn’t want it to. It had been a week since she’d found Zenon in pain on his apartment floor, his skin like ice. An entire seven days since she’d lain down beside him and he’d pulled her arm around him, placing her hand over his heart.

At the time it had felt monumental, like he’d decided to let her in. Then he’d taken her on the back of his bike, again letting her touch him.

I know it’s you.

Those words had floored her. They meant she was getting through, that on some level he trusted her.

But the days had crawled by and she hadn’t seen him, not once. Not even at the compound after her training sessions with James. And yeah, she’d looked.

She turned the corner and wasn’t surprised that this stretch was all but deserted. It was always like this. Her place was only two blocks away now.

An image flashed through her mind of Zenon, bare-chested and fierce as he backed her against the building, rage twisting his features before punching the glass. Zenon kissing her in the training room. Then in the gym, eyes wild, possessive, his head buried between her thighs.

And last, the way he’d looked lying on the floor, body shaking, the way he softened and warmed at her touch.

She couldn’t get him out of her head. He was on her mind almost constantly. She craved him. He ran hot and cold, confused her, and at times frightened her, but she wanted him. There was no point denying it, not to herself.

Anger at her own stupidity warmed her wind-cooled cheeks, making them sting. It didn’t matter; her feelings were irrelevant. He didn’t want her back. Males couldn’t hide that kind of thing, and not once had he had any type of physical reaction to her. Nothing.

Still, she looked up. Had he really been watching her? Was he still? It was pathetic, but she stood out on her balcony every night, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. She hadn’t, not once, and didn’t want to admit how much she’d wanted Eve and Meredith to be right. Proof that maybe he returned her feelings, even a little.

But she was kidding herself; she knew it deep down. He’d been grateful for her help with whatever had caused him pain that day, that’s all.

As soon as he’d dropped her off at work, he’d thrown that wall back up, blocking her out. She’d tried to find the right words, something—anything. He wouldn’t even look at her. Head down, hair forward covering his face. She’d started to speak, and he’d looked up, his expression cutting off whatever she’d been about to babble. His gaze had moved over her face, landed on her lips and back to her eyes, and then without a word he’d roared off on his bike. Not once did he look back.

Someone grabbed her arm, wrenching her to a stop. Mia shrieked in surprise and spun to face whoever it was. A crazy-eyed mountain of a man looked down at her and grinned. That look sent a crawling sensation across the surface of her skin.

Without giving herself time to overthink it, she whipped the pepper spray from her pocket and nailed him in the eyes. He howled but didn’t let go, so she closed her fist and gave him a forceful jab to the throat. When he roared and loosened his hold, she took off running.

He started after her, but she only heard several heavy thumps of his feet hitting the pavement before he cried out. She wheeled around. Another man was there now. Extremely tall, he was dressed in a suit and long dark coat.

He was fighting the behemoth. His blows were fast and powerful enough that she could hear the sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh. Her attacker went down, and her savior pushed his coat aside and pulled a wicked-looking blade from a sheath strapped to his thigh. He used it quickly and efficiently, removing the male’s head. Everything went silent.

He cleaned his knife on the dead guy’s clothes, slid it back into place, and stood to his full, impressive height. Expression emotionless, he straightened his coat and started toward her.

Shit.

Rooted to the spot—God, frozen—she watched his long strides eat up the short distance.

The sound of screeching tires pulled her out of her stupor and she spun around. A car flew down the street and Mia stumbled back as it bounced up the curb in front of her. Two males jumped out of the back seat and came straight at her. The tall guy was running and plowed into one of the other males coming toward her. They crashed to the ground while the third moved in. She turned to run, but he grabbed her. She couldn’t fight him off or use the pepper spray, since she’d dropped it on the pavement after using it on the behemoth.

The tall stranger couldn’t help her, busy fighting two guys now the driver had joined in. She was on her own. The male holding her pressed her into the wall, restricting her movements. She’d never felt more powerless in her life. He looked down at her, and she didn’t miss the excitement behind his almost black eyes.

Demon.

Raw fear hit like a blow to the stomach and if the wall hadn’t been at her back would have sent her reeling. That feeling moved up and gathered in her chest, growing stronger until it was almost unbearable. This was how she felt when James pushed, when he attempted to get her to release the full force of her power. And as the demon tugged on her arm, dragging her toward the car, she knew this was no wrong-place-wrong-time situation. They’d come specifically for her.

There was no doubt in her mind that if he got her in that car there would be no coming back. It would destroy her sister. And dammit, she refused to lose her new life, her fresh start before it even started.

In that moment fear and rage so fierce it felt like her blood was boiling in her veins took that pressure in her chest to a whole new level, but this time it didn’t stop. It smashed through. It spread out and flew down her arms. The release was so hard and fast she shook violently from it, enough the demon lost his grip.

Her hair whipped around her face, scalding wind stinging her eyes. Instinct told her to put her hand on him. She needed to release what was about to shoot from her fingers, and she wanted to give it to the asshole trying to ruin everything.

So instead of pushing him away, she gripped him tight, dug her nails in deep, and let all the wild energy and heat that had built inside her free. The demon’s mouth fell open and his hold on her fell away. He stumbled back and collapsed to the ground, nearly taking her with him. The smell of burning flesh surrounded her a second later.

She was staring down at the demon’s lifeless body when Zenon, closely followed by Rocco, literally fell from the sky. The sound of their boots making contact with the pavement echoed off the surrounding buildings like a thunderclap.

The two remaining demons closed in, moving in front of her. They were bleeding and battered but were still able to stay upright. Her savior in the long coat was nowhere to be seen. He’d vanished into thin air. She hoped he was okay.

Rage contorted Zenon’s face, the brand on his cheek making his features twist until he was almost unrecognizable. He did not look at her, his stare locked on the demons in front of him blocking her escape. “You all right, Mia?” he said, his voice reverberating oddly, like he wasn’t the only one talking.

“Y-yes.”

He reached back and drew two wicked-looking axes from the leather harness that crisscrossed his bare chest, the ones she’d seen in his room, and swung them easily in his loose grip. “Who sent you?” he growled. They didn’t respond, stepped back, moving in closer to her. “Do not fucking move,” he snarled.

Rocco cursed. Mia had never seen the easygoing male like this before. He was almost as terrifying as Zenon. He had a knife in each hand and he spun them slowly, ready to let them loose any moment.

“Who sent you?” Rocco tried this time. Again they didn’t answer, and one of them actually grinned. Rocco shook his head in disgust. “Are you stupid? Start talking or die. Your choice.”

Zenon swung one of his axes, and it whistled through the air. “You know what? I’m done talking.”

“You and me both.”

Everything happened at once. Roc let one of his blades fly, nailing a demon in the chest. The other demon turned and came at her. She tried to send him a jolt, like she had the last one, but she had no idea how she’d managed it the first time, and nothing happened.

Then Zenon was there.

The demon sunk its claw into her arms, and as Zenon ripped it off her, she felt her flesh resist then give. Stinging pain shot from her shoulders and down her upper arms. Zenon threw it against the unforgiving wall with a bloodcurdling roar, and when it rebounded, swung his ax, removing its head with one powerful blow.

She sagged against the building at her back, relief and pain draining the last of her energy.

Zenon didn’t take his eyes off her as he reached back, secured his weapons, and walked straight to her.

He didn’t speak and swung her up into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. The snap of his wings extending was the only sound before he took several massive pulls, catching the wind, and lifted them off the ground.

Rocco followed. His wings were feathered, white and silver tipped, so different from Zenon’s leathery ones, and made his angel DNA more obvious.

Rocco didn’t hang around, and, man, was he fast. One minute he was there, the next he wasn’t. That was when it sunk in. She was flying through the night sky in Zenon’s arms. She looked down—way down—and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’ve got you,” Zenon said, his voice so low she felt more than heard the words.

It felt so right in his arms—God, safe. This time she didn’t ask for permission and slid her arms around his neck. He didn’t tense at the contact and instead tightened his own hold on her.

Laying her head against his warm chest, she listened to the steady thump of his heart because once they reached the compound, she knew she’d have to let him go.