CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Austin replayed the scene in the office while Zander and Jules made quiet conversation. It felt good to be out walking with Stetson. The most normal she’d felt in days. They worked their way past the club’s security and headed along Queen Street. The throbbing beat of music dissolved the further they strode.
She needed to put the brakes on. Inexplicable as it was, and despite all her rules of self-control, she was falling for Zander. Raising her hand to her chest, she drew in a deep, unsteady breath. The horse might already be out of the barn on that one.
The running monologue in her head screamed that the archangels would wipe him from her memory and return her to her post-apoca-Rick-less life. The thought of forgetting Zander physically hurt. Her instincts recognized the minefield ahead, but her body and soul were working against her.
They walked on, Zander rubbing his thumb in little circles against her hand as he spoke to Jules. She slid a sideways glance, watching him as they maneuvered the streets. Focused on their conversation, his sharp eyes still seemed to scan the area. Without a doubt, if something threatened from the periphery, he would launch into the shadows.
And it wouldn’t be to investigate.
Zander’s life was volatile. He was volatile. That scared her down to her boots. He was surly, authoritative, and bossy. Yet, when everything in life felt wrong, there he was—and he felt right. She wasn’t foolish enough to trust that feeling.
He was a passing moment. Still . . . a nice moment.
She leaned into his shoulder and a weighty arm came across her shoulders. Why he seemed drawn to her remained the bigger mystery. She wasn’t a catch by any definition: a blind, massage therapist, cowgirl from Texas with no family and if she didn’t go back to work, enough money to make it through the next few months if she ate two light meals a day.
Her finances were tied to Rick. Even though he was a better business partner than a romantic partner, she wouldn’t stay where she wasn’t wanted. She’d have to move her practice. What would her daddy have thought if he’d been alive to watch her pack her bags? Was she quitting or moving on?
The gentle squeeze of her hand drew her attention. “Everything all right?”
Austin nodded, smiling when he kissed the top of her head. Yeah, when this ended, it would rip her apart.
Jules owned a restored brownstone situated on a quiet cul-de-sac. Zander painted the picture for her, the tall, mature trees, the homey street with hockey nets and sticks pushed to the curb, the flower boxes and trimmed lawns. The whole deal.
Nothing screamed ‘demons live here’.
They started up the walk and a screen door burst open and slammed closed. Fast footsteps advanced. “Mommy!”
Austin caught sight of him just as he launched into the air and Jules grunted beside her. “Robbie’s arm got broked and he’s at the hopidal.”
“His arm is broken and they’re at the hospital,” Jules corrected. “Yes, Daddy told me.”
“S’what I said. Hey lady, can I pet your dog?”
“Sure, one sec.” Austin leaned over Stetson and removed his harness. “There. Go ahead.”
Stetson’s tail thumped the ground in a steady rhythm until the door creaked open a second time. Jules touched her arm. “Andrew, Jared, this is Austin. Austin, these are my boys. And of course, you both remember Zander.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss,” the older boy said, walking toward them. His voice triggered the same jagged claw and fang swipes other demons had, but without triggering the cold, menace in her gut. Maybe it intensified with age, intent, or maybe their race.
Andrew’s footsteps descended the porch steps. “It’s nice to see you again, sir. Thank you for bringing Mom home.”
Zander inclined his head. “Staying out of trouble, son?”
“Mostly,” the young man said. His frame showed he’d started to fill out, but still had some gawky boy to him. “Staying out of it altogether wouldn’t be much fun.”
“True enough.” Zander shrugged his broad shoulders out of Kyrian’s jacket and stood before him in his signature black-T. Andrew took in the ridges and valleys of Zander’s arms, his shoulders, and his neck. “Smart decisions keep you and your family safe. I don’t want to be here in any official capacity. Steer clear of any serious shit.”
Jared giggled. “Mr. Zander said shit, Mommy. And why aren’t we safe?”
“Zander,” Jules growled.
“It can’t hurt to be reminded of the dangers of their world.” He shared a serious look with Andrew and they seemed to come to some unspoken understanding.
“Thanks for the escort,” Jules said, before moving up the porch steps. “Go. Enjoy your evening. Nice seeing you again, Austin.”
***
Zander had never taken an evening stroll. He’d run through the streets, fought in them, killed in them, but he didn’t remember a time when he’d ever walked with no true destination in mind. He checked the horizon. The late-summer sun was sinking. In another hour, he’d need to leave Austin and hit the streets. Part of him hated waiting for nightfall, wanting to track down Tanek’s killers. Part of him loved the hours when his hands were tied. He could focus on Austin.
“What does Jules look like?” Austin asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“She’s petite, has flaming red hair and the temper to match.”
“She seems tough.”
Zander chuckled, thinking how many of the men at the club were afraid to cross her. “She’s fearless, a wonderful mother, and loves her husband more than one man deserves.”
“Why is she allowed to know about and be married to a daemon? She’s human.”
He stopped them at the lights and waited for the pedestrians crossing. “At first, Rayvn hid their relationship—he’s a Dragon, a rare and dying race. When Jules got pregnant, Rayvn told the Darkworld counsel. That was a huge deal. Female Dragons have long ceased being fertile and everyone pretty much excepted their extinction as inevitable. No one is sure what enabled Jules to carry a Dragon offspring but that’s what tipped the scales. They made an exception.”
“Can’t we discuss an exception for us?”
“No. Nephilim live lives of servitude. We don’t warrant an exception or any chance of a life outside our duty. The Choir won’t allow it.”
They walked in silence for some time, Zander weaving them on a meandering route back to the club. He was in no rush to leave her and hit the streets. He smelled her sad frustration but there was nothing to be done about it.
She wrapped her arm around his back and leaned into his side as they walked.
“Ice cream?” Zander pointed to the Cold-Stone Creamery sign. “Since we’re tackling the hard questions, we might as well arm ourselves to take the edge off the heat. Hard or soft?”
Austin’s worry softened to a grin. “Hard, no question.”
He pulled her closer and gave her a gentle grind. “I like the way you think.”
“Careful, Mister Ambrose. I might start thinking you’re a one trick pony.”
“You haven’t scratched the surface on my tricks, darlin’.” Her frustration dissipated, replaced by arousal. He moaned and slid back into Kyrian’s jacket. “Later. Right now we’re a regular couple out getting ice-cream on a hot summer night.”
After a heated debate about the magic of sherbet and the evils of gelato, they stepped back into the streets. He watched her absorption as she chased the rocky-road, dripping down her waffle cone with her tongue.
“So what upset you earlier?” he asked.
Her long ponytail swayed as she shook her head. “Nothin’ you need to worry about. Best we enjoy the time we have left.”
“Or we could have a meaningful conversation and get to know each other better.”
Austin licked her ice cream, indecision warring on her beautiful face. “All right, give me your word that no matter what I say, I won’t become one of your fix-it projects. I take care of myself.”
Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Fixing problems is what I do. If I can—”
“Promise me, or we’re done talkin’.”
God, she set his teeth on edge. “Fine. You have my word.”
“Fine.” She took a couple aggressive licks of her ice cream. “Three weeks ago, my live-in boyfriend and business partner, Rick, moved out and sent me an email confessing that he’d been cheatin’ on me with our receptionist. I can’t work in the same office as him and I think I should pack up and leave. New city. New start. After all this, maybe that’s the way to go.”
The thought that a man chose to throw Austin’s affection away stunned him. He would give anything to love her. And an email? This Rick was an asshole. Her options struck him cold. It would shattered him to reinsert her back into a world without him, but if he couldn’t even watch over her . . . he’d lose his shit. “I recant my promise. I will invest in your new practice.”
“Don’t mess with a Texan. We stand on our own two feet.”
“I respect that, but helping you is self-preservation. Letting me do this would be in my best interest.”
He saw the pain on her face but didn’t understand it. An acrid scent of her emotion hit him in the gut. “What? What’s so wrong with that?”
“There’s no slack in my rope. I don’t need you to swoop in.” She dropped his hand and focused on her ice cream.
Unbelievable. “Why are you so pissed that I want to help?”
She dumped her cone in the street garbage and let Stetson lead them off.
He fought between wanting to pull her into his arms and kiss her mood away or shake her until her factory settings reset to the playful Austin of half an hour ago. She wouldn’t welcome either. He clenched his fists, fighting the possessive side of himself that demanded he dominate and claim what was his.
But she wasn’t his.
He followed, violence rising inside him. Staring at the pavement, he locked himself down until he thought he could speak without his frustration bleeding into his words. “I apologize. Handle your life as you wish. I don’t want to fight.”
The hostile grunt she made cut through his restraint.
He moved without thought, without intent. He pulled her against his chest and claimed her mouth. The passion that exploded in her was all wrong. Her nails bit through his shirt as her teeth pierced his lip and she twisted away.
Fighting against him with such force, she stumbled over Stetson and fell on her ass. Ah, fuck. “Austin, I’m sorry.”
He bent down to help her up and someone shoved him from behind. “Back away from the lady, buddy.”
Zander spun, ready to rip the good-Samaritan’s head off. Fuck. A cop. He straightened, running his palms down his jeans. “The lady is in no danger from me, sir. We had a simple misunderstanding.”
He nodded, his hand hovering over the snap securing his weapon. “I still need you to step away.”
Fuck this. Zander locked eyes with the officer, wiped the last five minutes from his mind and sent him away with an undeniable urge to get a coffee.
Austin slapped away his hand and rose to her feet. She brushed off her jeans, gathered Stetson’s harness and strode off without a backward glance.
He may have lived five thousand years, but he was wholly unprepared for the emotions roiling through him as he caught up to her. “Austin, I apologize. Are you all right?”
“I’ll live.”
Damn it. He was a slayer of daemons, a tycoon in business and a feared enforcer on the streets but this little brunette, with her independent mind and feminine curves—destroyed him.
He’d turned into a fucking pansy-assed-Nancy. True story.
The coming night cooled the air, coinciding with the icy hostility creeping over them. When Austin shivered Zander draped Kyrian’s jacket across her shoulders and moved to help her slide her arms into the much too long sleeves.
“I can dress myself.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Mercy, this leather is soft.” She ran her fingers over the jacket, caressed the hide and pulled it tighter around her. The lapel brushed against her cheek and a tender smile softened her face. “Mmm, it smells like Kyrian.”
The streetlight overhead exploded, sparks and shrapnel raining down to the pavement. Never had he wanted to do his brother harm, but how could she have warmth for Kyrian and none for him? What the hell was the ache gnawing at his intestines? His kill urge surged.
He wanted to scream until he burst into a supernova. Christ with the way his blood pumped through his veins, he’d take out half a city block. Maybe he could just stab someone and work off this mood. Yeah, nothing soothed the soul like beating the shit out of some soul-sucking Darkworlders.
Wouldn’t do much to smooth things out with Austin though.
He flexed his fingers and exhaled. “Look, Austin, I’m sorry I’m not better at this. I’ve never been involved with anyone before—”
When the breeze shifted direction, he pulled back.
Oh shit.