“Remember what I told you in the beginning?” His voice was low and gruff, the words breathed into her mouth. “You’re a predator now. Predators like to fuck. That’s all this is.”
“Don’t lie. Not about this.”
His tumult was palpable and added to hers. She felt safe with Alec; she felt far from it with Reed. The fact that fear pushed her forward instead of urging retreat scared her. What if he’s right about me? What if killing things is what I’m meant to do?
No, she refused to believe that being a Mark was her destiny. She couldn’t believe it, because if she did, it meant that all of her childhood dreams and hopes had to die. There would be no fairytale wedding, no possibility of a family. Everything and everyone she loved, the very aspects of her life that made her who she was, would grow old and leave her life. Who would she be then? Someone she didn’t know. Someone she might not like.
“Don’t count on me to put on the brakes, Eve. I’m selfish. I won’t say no to a prime piece of ass.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”
His mouth took on a mulish cast. “I don’t want you like this. I’ve seen the show, I know how it ends.”
“It was a good show.” Really good. Reed was rough, edgy, wild in a way she never expected to like, let alone crave. The fact was, the mark . . . Novium . . . whatever . . . didn’t make her want him. It only lowered her inhibitions enough to free her existing attraction.
He nipped her lower lip, then licked across the spot to soothe the sting. “Come to me again when you’re not strung out with the Heat. You’ll get a different answer.”
“Reed—”
“Enough.” Tilting his head, his mouth slanted across hers, taking her breath until she grew faint.
His fist in her hair tightened, arching her further backward, forcing her to mold into him. Her scalp ached with the pressure, the pain intensifying until she whimpered in protest and writhed. The prodding of the gun into her lower back was the final injury that pushed her over the edge.
She stomped on his foot and wrenched free, stumbling a few feet away. “You’re hurting me!” she accused.
Reed wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then adjusted the prominent bulge in his slacks with impatient movements. “Look what you’ve done to me. Look what you keep doing to me, you fucking cock tease.”
Eve blinked, shocked by the vehemence of his attack. And the justification behind it. “I’m sorry. I—”
He cut her off with a glare. “Cain’s the one getting laid. That means he’s the go-to guy for your crap, not me. I want to fuck you, not carry your baggage.”
“Jesus,” she breathed, wincing at the resulting burn from the mark. A bucket of ice water couldn’t have doused her lust faster. “You know I feel like—”
“—you haven’t had sex in three weeks? Join the club, Eve. Don’t expect sympathy from me.”
A hand touched her elbow. She jerked in surprise, her head swiveling to see who joined them. Gadara’s gaze moved over her, pausing on the labored lift and fall of her chest and her clenched fists.
“Ms. Hollis,” he murmured.
The tension rushed out of her like water down a drain, fleeing her body at the exact spot where the archangel touched her. Eve was suddenly chagrined and emotionally exhausted. Still aching and slick between her thighs, she nevertheless was now capable of coherent, rational thought.
“Walk it off, Abel.” Gadara’s order resonated with divine command.
Reed spun on his heel and left them, the leather soles of his shoes thudding angrily upon the cement drive and sidewalk. It took everything Eve had not to chase after him. The set of his shoulders told her so much about his mood. She’d backed him into a corner, then wounded him. Her frustration turned inward.
“You should be inside with the others,” the archangel said. His irises were an iridescent gold rimmed with obsidian black. He was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. “Our plane will arrive within the next two hours. We will need everything packed by then.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
His brows arched.
“I need to be here,” she continued. “I can’t go. You might not want to admit it, but the Novium is on me.”
Gadara stood silently, eerily composed in the face of the day’s events.
“There has to be something I can do here that we can both live with,” she persisted.
“It is too dangerous. I prefer your original suggestion to assist from the sidelines.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be possible. Not in the shape I’m in.”
“We can resume training next week. A hunt conducted under controlled conditions should suffice—”
“Next week? I can’t stay like this for—”
The rhythmic thumping of an approaching bass beat halted Eve’s tirade midsyllable. Her head turned toward the sound, her eyes catching sight of the pea-green van that turned the corner. It was followed by a white sedan, which in turn was followed by a red pickup truck. The procession slowed, then pulled into the driveway of the duplex directly across the street.
“Is that your investigative team?” she asked, her gaze riveted on the exiting occupants of the vehicles. They seemed far too rambunctious to be longstanding Marks. They tumbled out with whoops and excited chatter.
He stepped forward, taking an almost protective position in front of her. “No.”
“Then, who are they?”
“Good question.”
“They’re fresh faced,” she noted. “Maybe a college study group? Biology or chemistry, if all that equipment they’re unloading is any indication.”
“No one is supposed to be here while we are.”
Glancing aside at Gadara, Eve registered his alertness. His sweat suit wasn’t capable of softening him completely, not with his ramrod-straight posture and elegant bearing.
“Did you tell whoever’s in charge that we’re clearing out today?”
“Yes.” He returned her gaze. “But the military rarely moves quickly when civilian requests are involved. We began talks for this year’s training two years ago. I fail to see how they could have granted permission to a new group in so short a time.”
Eve started across the street. Every step was a relief. She needed to walk it off, too.
“Ms. Hollis.” The archangel’s tone was admonishing. “What are you doing?”
“Saying hi to our new neighbors.” She looked down the road toward Anytown, which was within walking distance. Far too close for mortal comfort.
As she approached the new arrivals, Eve caught the attention of one of the girls—a somber-looking brunette with black-framed glasses and orange camisole. The girl elbowed the lanky man next to her, gesturing toward Eve with a jerk of her chin. He turned with a frown that dissolved into a smile when he saw Eve. He had unruly brown hair, a peach-fuzzy goatee, and slumberous hazel eyes that were emphasized by the olive-colored T-shirt he wore.
“Hey,” he drawled, sauntering down the drive to the sidewalk.
“Hello.” She extended her hand. “Evangeline Hollis.”
“Roger Norville.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back. “What’s a babe like you doing in a place like this?”
She was taken aback by the line, thinking it was too cocky for such a laid-back guy. “I’m teaching a class on interior design.”
The answer rolled off her tongue as if it was her idea, but she knew it wasn’t. She didn’t have to look behind her to know Gadara was watching and listening through her . . . and compelling safe replies into her brain. Mind rape, but it had its uses.
“In this dump?” Roger’s brows rose. “No amount of decorating is going to fix these homes.”
“Interior design,” she corrected. “How spaces are laid out.”
“Oh, gotcha. Sorry.”
“No problem. How about you?”
He released her hand and shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown corduroy jeans. “We’re going to be filming the next episode of our show here.”
Eve frowned. “Show?”
“Ghoul School.” Roger stilled when she just stared blankly. “On Bonzai. The cable channel.”
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I’m not familiar with it.”
He beamed, his vaguely smarmy countenance changing to one more genuine. “That’s good news.”
“It is?”
Roger laughed. “Forgive the corny pickup line. I thought you recognized us.”
She smiled, but was bemused.
“Chicks like geeks and television personalities,” he clarified, “but not sleaze.”
Eve laughed softly. “Whatever works.”
He gestured toward the brunette. “Linda, come meet Evangeline. She’s teaching an interior design class across the street.”
Linda walked over, her lips curved shyly. She was so short, the top of her head barely reached Roger’s shoulder. Her attire was deceptively casual at first glance, but closer inspection revealed a penchant for pricey designer pieces and her bob hairstyle was cut with expensive precision. “You must be part of the group we’re supposed to steer clear of.”
Roger nodded. “Right. Evangeline, this is my girl, Linda.”
“Please, call me Eve,” she corrected. She felt Gadara in her mind, sifting through her thoughts and leaving new ones behind. To her knowledge, he had never been able to do that before. Considering how new the Novium was for her, he seemed able to leap right in and make use of it without any trouble.
“So, what’s Ghoul School?” she asked, the thought coming from Gadara. “If you don’t mind my asking?”
“We’re a paranormal investigative club based out of Tristan College in St. George, Utah. For a while, we were putting our investigation videos up on YouTube, but someone from the Bonzai network found us and gave us a weekly slot.”
