When Gunn had received a call from Chase earlier that morning, he’d jumped at the idea of checking up on Cyra. He pictured getting a moment alone with her for a real conversation. Finding out what she loved to eat for breakfast, if she was an early riser, what her favorite book was because he downloaded a new novel to read every two days. Thrillers were his favorite, though he’d go as far as reading mysteries and even cozy ones if Cyra enjoyed them. He craved to learn more about her. Anything other than just the snippets of information he’d gained from her brother. He wanted to watch a comedy with her and hear her laugh. The small things in a relationship he’d missed over the years. Something about Cyra made him want to create those moments together with her. That was as far as his thoughts had extended, but now he felt as if a noose was tightening around his neck—the pressure to save everyone. The usual routine of eliminating demons passed in a blur in his mind, and instead, his head bellowed at him about how close he’d come to losing Cyra. Panic throttled his lungs at how fast the danger had tailspinned out of control. What if he hadn’t followed her upstairs? Would she be gone forever? And the fault would be his, as he was the experienced demon handler on the scene.

Who knew what she’d come in contact with while in Hell, so after he finished the job at this house, he’d cleanse her thoroughly to be safe.

A loud gasp had Gunn snapping around in the doorway, his pulse skyrocketing. The elderly woman stood near the staircase, her attention fastened on Cyra as she strolled back inside, wiping her mouth. “You’re bleeding, my dear,” Nora said, pointing to her leg.

Cyra glanced down at the blood running down her shin and into her boot. “Crap.” She wiped the stain with the loose fabric of her pants. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, no. It can get infected,” Nora said. “Come. I’ve got bandages in the bathroom.”

Gunn couldn’t agree more on getting her patched up and then all three of them needed to vacate the house. “Leave it to me,” he said. “I’ll care for her wound.” He approached Nora, who backed away as if he were the danger. She couldn’t be more wrong. “Please pack a bag with Henry. You two will have to leave for the night, as this will take us longer than expected.”

Nora frowned, yet she dropped her gaze. Yep, he recognized the look. They were in the rich district, and he’d just asked the woman to depart her house and leave her residence filled with expensive artifacts with strangers. A biker, no less, who’d torn up her front lawn. Well, if they wanted to avoid demonic possession, they’d have to trust him. Otherwise, he’d be forced to lay out the raw truth… Something he’d prefer to avoid. Scaring people wasn’t how he handled such situations.

Her mouth opened with what he guessed was a protest, but he jumped in first. “It’s for your own safety. Now hurry.” He turned to Cyra, who was bent over, patting her bleeding injury. “Cyra, you’re with me.”

She looked up with an arched brow, yet to his surprise, without a word, she marched past him and down the hallway.

When he caught up with her as she walked into the bathroom, she was shaking her head. “You didn’t have to be so direct with Nora. She’s already scared and confused.”

Gunn shut the door behind them, not wanting their conversation to reach the old couple. “Better they’re scared enough to leave than they stay and something worse happens.”

Cyra unzipped her leather jacket, shook it off her shoulders, and placed it on the counter before leaning over the sink and splashing her face. She then gargled mouthwash she’d found near the mirror. Probably to clean the taste of vomit from her earlier puke. Without a word, she walked across the five-by-five room and sat on the edge of the tub. The white button-up shirt she wore had frills at her wrist and dipped to reveal gorgeous cleavage.

He took off his jacket, feeling stifled and hot in the bathroom. Dumping it next to hers, he rummaged through a cabinet crammed with toothpaste, toothbrushes, and soaps still in their packages. He grabbed disinfectant cream along with a packet of bandages.

“Did you see her shaking?” Cyra continued. “And I wouldn’t leave a stranger in my house. Hell, no!”

After wetting the hand towel, he closed the distance between them.

She had her injured leg propped up on the ledge as she pushed back the torn fabric around her shin.

“I get it. I could have been nicer and all that. But I needed them to go. And you with them. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but this is a life-and-death situation.”

Cyra stiffened and if her gaze could spear Gunn, he’d be pinned to the door by now.

“I’m not leaving. This is my mission, and you can’t come in and take over, shoving me aside.” Her clipped tone told him it wasn’t a topic she’d back down from, but did he expect anything different? Didn’t mean he’d let her stay. The job had just switched over to his level of experience, which meant he called the shots.

“If I had lost you in that Hell pit, your brother would have skinned me alive,” he said.

Cyra’s shoulders squared and her nose wrinkled in a defiant way, but he was up for the challenge. “Well, don’t worry about me,” she said. “You can sleep well knowing you haven’t upset Chase.”

Her snarkiness fired something inside his chest. She cared for him. Otherwise, why would she fret over him protecting her? But in fact, he’d taken this task on himself to spend time with Cyra. To ensure she stayed safe for his own sanity. And thank fuck he had come or would she be dead now? In the attic, he’d only seen blackness in the portal, but he’d thrown a rope he’d found in storage, ready to jump in when he’d felt a tug. He’d prayed it was Cyra… Yeah, he’d taken one hell of a risk, but it had paid off. And he’d do it again if need be.

He kneeled next to her and dabbed the towel on her injury. But she snatched it out of his grip and rubbed it so hard, she probably ripped away several layers of skin.

“I can look after myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” he said, grabbing another vial of holy water from his belt. He carried three on him at all times. And he’d already used one and was about to use his second, so he might need to pop out and stock up on supplies from his bike. He poured the contents over the wound and noted no reaction. The good news was there was no infection yet. “Sorry to say this, but the situation here is out of your league. It’s about vanquishing the bastards, closing up the portal, not cleansing spells that make everyone feel dandy.”

She scowled, seized the disinfectant tube from his hand and squeezed huge blobs across the three-scratch mark. “For your information, I’ve been casting since I was eight.” With haste, she lathered on the cream, turning her skin into a pink paste as the cream meshed with blood.

“I’m not saying you’re not an incredible witch. I believe it, but Argos was wrong about this mission. No simple haunting here. And that means I’ll be calling a friend to join me so we can shut down the demonic circus setting up home in these folks’ house.”

Using the damp towel, he wiped her shin and attached the first bandage to her injury, followed by two more, with a final one across them in what looked like a tic-tac-toe board.

“I don’t need you deciding for me. I have enough people doing that in my life.” She lifted her head, avoiding his stare, but he saw the light quiver of her chin.

Determination fired her up, that was clear, along with a need to prove herself. But why? All he’d heard from Chase was how much he cared about and loved his sister. How he’d promised his parents he’d always look out for Cyra. Gunn would give anything to have someone like that in his life, yet she resisted. He had to get through to her and if that meant being a little more blunt with her to convince her, he’d do whatever it took.

So he changed topics. “If I weren’t asked to come check on you today, what would you be doing right now?”

The surprise on her face had her eyes widening, but she glanced away nonchalantly, as if not trusting his intentions. “What would you be doing?” she countered.

Her response told him so much. Like how arguing with him was easier than admitting her feelings. The way she stared at him when she thought he wasn’t looking hadn’t gone unnoticed by him, but for months he’d debated whether to make a move or not. His brain had always won in the end, but today he couldn’t walk away. He had to know if what he felt was real.

His decision would probably bite him in the ass because enjoying her company would only make her attractiveness harder to resist, and he told himself over and over he had to resist. Except in her company, he felt liberated, not trapped by fucked-up crap from his past. She made him forget everything.

Her gorgeous eyes encased by long, dark lashes studied him… Right. She was waiting for this response. “I’d be fighting the crowds to buy my last-minute gifts.” Every year he bought toys for neighboring families with kids needing an extra helping hand. It was something his foster dad used to do, and after Gunn had gotten his first job, he’d promised himself to continue the tradition. “Your turn.”

“That’s real nice of you. I’d probably be cooking three casseroles. One for lunch at Chase’s, one for my landlord, and another for my freezer. And drinking wine while watching Miracle on 34th Street. Go ahead and laugh, but every Christmas Eve, it was a tradition at my grandparents’, and now it just reminds me of them.”

He adored her tradition. “I’ll admit I haven’t seen that movie yet.”

“Definitely watch it, but make sure to have loads of food and drinks. Best festive feeling ever.”

“I’ll give it a go.”

“So...” she continued, dropping her leg and her posture eased. This was the Cyra he wanted to spend time with and get to know. And while he ought to get out and make sure Henry and Nora had left the house, he couldn’t tear himself away from her side. Just a few more seconds.

“I hear you’ve been working at Argos for five years,” she said, leaning closer, the wisps of her hair stroking his forearm. “You haven’t gotten bored doing the same job?” She might have asked a mundane question, but the purring behind her words changed the mood in the room. Her new approach excited him. It was like she’d finally dropped her defenses, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic.

“How can I get sick of kicking demon butt and keeping the streets clean? I’ll do this for the next forty years.” He paused, his fingers sliding over her hand, and her breath hitched. “I’d thought about leaving the industry, getting a normal person’s job, but how can I ignore the truth about what lurks the shadows?” That Pandora’s box lay smashed open with no way of putting the crazies back inside. “What about you? Do you plan to continue working at Argos, or is it a temporary gig?”

She shrugged. “Haven’t thought far in advance. Just need a regular paycheck.” Her tone was light, and he adored this side of her. They were two ordinary people talking about life, not possession or comparing bruises from demon attacks.

“That’s how I started out too, but it gets easier.” When Gunn first worked for Argos, he had been flat broke. But they paid well, so he’d worked hard and gotten ahead faster than he’d anticipated.

The earlier silence accompanied them once again, and she stood up, pulling her hand from his, but he wanted her back.

He was on his feet and grasped her elbow, drawing her closer. She stumbled toward him, chest to chest, her head tilted back, reaching his chin in height. Her trembling against him intensified his arousal. Everything about Cyra had driven him insane for months, and he’d been unable to get her out of his thoughts. But he’d kept his word to Chase and kept his distance this long for too many other reasons. Now he swallowed past the boulder wedged in his throat. Something inside him stirred. A longing, a craving to take what he’d craved.

“Baby girl,” he said, his voice lowered, “I was ready to jump into Hell to collect you. And that decision had zero to do with your brother, or with my job. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt.”

She didn’t blink, but her face softened, as did her body against his. And for those few moments, his thoughts faded into the background, along with his worries. For too long he’d fantasized about holding Cyra, claiming her as his, and right then, he toyed with doing so—taking what belonged to him.

“They’re just words, promises, nothing more.” Her tone suggested anger, yet her hand inched up his chest. Then she pulled away, leaving him hanging high and dry.

“No, no. Finish what you started.” He collected her into his arms once again, adrenaline coursing through his veins. She was a furnace against him, a fire lighting his insides, driving him closer.

“Which part?” Her attempt at seriousness gave him the urge to laugh hard.

“You know very well which part.”

His brain yelled that he ought to back away, not play this game, but seeing this flirty side of Cyra undid him, called to his raw instincts.

She fell silent and watched him for a long pause. “What are we doing?” she asked.

“What would you like to be doing?” The logical part of his brain blurted out exactly what they were doing—flirting on a dangerous slope—while his heart pleaded for more. For months he’d dreamed of having time with Cyra where her brother wasn’t watching her like a hawk, where she could be herself. Beneath the surface, he’d desired Cyra and now that she showed authentic interest, how could he walk away?

“So many things,” she responded. As if she’d revealed her deepest secret, her cheeks blushed. Her reaction made it difficult for him resist. It left him hard and ready. They’d come this far, and he wasn’t backing down now.

He lifted her onto his toes and walked her backward until she hit the wall. With their bodies molded together, he raised her chin with a finger. The slightest gasp came from her throat before he lowered his mouth to hers.

She groaned beneath him, and his hand combed through her long, silver hair, twisting it around his fist. Sweet as a summer day, he glided his tongue against the seam of her lips. She accepted him, sucking.

His heart slammed against his chest. He had to taste more of her, devour every inch.

Her kiss left him breathless and insatiable.

Breaking away, she remained in his arms, her lower lip slipping between her teeth as she stared up at him. The innocence in her expression had attracted him to her two months ago. Something about Cyra screamed the opposite, reminded him of himself when he’d been young. Lost in the world, trying to act tough, but on the inside, vulnerability would eat at his every decision. And part of him wanted to wrap her up in cotton, protect her from the hurt and deceit he had faced. The city was like a demon, chipping away at one’s soul the longer they lived here.

“Baby girl, let me take you somewhere else to make you feel incredible.”

She nodded and raised herself to meet his mouth again, kissing him with the same savagery that lingered inside him. Her arms coiled around his neck, and he pressed his hardness against her, his hand fisting the fabric of her T-shirt.

“Take me,” she mewled.

God, he’d waited so long to hear her say those words, but he’d always pulled back, stayed far away for good reason. After losing Cherri-Anne to the demon, he’d told himself he didn’t deserve happiness of any kind, let alone finding someone else who drove his pulse into a frenzy. But for the first time, a sprinkle of hope melted that ice around his heart. And now, only hunger consumed him from the inside out. He had to take Cyra. Own her.

He slid his fingertips under her top and across the scorching hot flesh of her stomach. He cupped a breast over the silky bra, filling his palm, and she moaned at his touch.

Their breaths escalated, and he yanked up her top, breaking from their kiss, staring at the most delicious cleavage. “All mine.”

Cyra tugged at his T-shirt, drawing the fabric over his abs, and her warm hands were on his skin, sliding over his pecs and following the line of hair dipping down his stomach and into his pants. Clothes had to go.

She pulled at his belt, and with his fingers hooked into the lip of her pants, he hauled her closer. His mouth was on her neck, licking her sweetness, the softness teasing him. “The things I’m going to do to you.”

“Hmm. I’ve never been with someone before.”

He kissed his way to the corner of her lips and whispered, “I’ll be your first?” Something about her roleplaying both excited and terrified him. Was she kinkier than he’d first anticipated?

Cyra nodded without a smirk and instead, her cheeks blushed with shyness, and that simple admission drowned Gunn. “Wait!” He untangled himself and pulled back. “Are you serious? You’ve never slept with anyone before?”

What was wrong with him, stopping when she’d made it crystal clear she wanted him? But he had to be beyond certain because defying a friend’s wishes was one thing, but then telling Chase he’d also taken Cyra’s virginity...? Yep, that right there was a declaration of all-out war.

While such news pulled him to Cyra, made him even more desperate to protect her, to make her his so no one would ever touch her, he couldn’t rush this. Not like this. And her first time sure as hell wouldn’t be in a bathroom. Hell, he had to clear his head. There was a pressing danger nearby, yet, his legs refused to move away from Cyra.

She leaned back against the wall, her hands pressed to her stomach, her gray eyes too glossy. “Why are you acting all freaked out?” Her words came out barely a whisper.

He brought her into his arms, but she pushed her hands against his chest. “Cyra, a first time is special, and I don’t want you to regret this later.”

“Why? ’Cause this is a fling for you and now you think it comes with emotions? Fuck that. All I want from you is a good time.” She folded her arms over her chest, and her words burned his insides.

“I didn’t say that. You caught me off-guard. And this isn’t a one night stand for me.” He kept his voice steady, despite the worry already bubbling in his mind over her reaction.

She huffed and her features pinched slightly before she spoke. “Yeah. Look, forget what happened here.” When she turned, he took her wrist and forced her to face him. He had to fix this.

Yet she stared at him as if he were a stranger. “Baby, I never wanted to hurt you,” he said.

The abrupt knocking at the door stole his chance to say more. “You two done in there? We have a problem out here.”

Gunn and Cyra exchanged glances, but her expression remained flat. He had to make this right, show her his reaction had come from a good place, not as a rejection or from giving up on her. He needed to gain back her trust, as right now, he’d shattered it.

Cyra wrenched free from his hold, pulled her top down, and opened the door to face Henry.

His posture curled forward in a defeated stance.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she followed him out of the bathroom and out of sight.

And just like that, Gunn was left standing alone in the bathroom, still tasting Cyra on his lips, yet knowing she was upset at him, he now felt as if someone had just detonated a bomb beneath his breastbone.