Chapter 13

13

I was starting to regret ever letting Danika near my arm with a needle—clearly there was a good chance she was on crack.

Zayne wanted me? He loved me? Sure, I knew that Zayne cared deeply for me, but in love with me? That was a whole different ballpark.

I couldn’t believe that, not when there were so many reasons why he wouldn’t be in love with me—couldn’t be. Besides the fact that everyone in his clan expected Zayne to mate with Danika or another suitable Warden to produce little gargoyle babies, he couldn’t even kiss me. Yeah, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get close to me and we...couldn’t do other things, but it was too dangerous.

Thinking about those things that didn’t involve our lips touching kept me up most of Saturday night. Even with my limited experience when it came to those other things, my vast imagination was giving me lots of ideas. Ideas that involved hands and fingers and other body parts...

Oh dear.

I flopped onto my stomach and groaned into my pillow. I hadn’t seen much of Zayne throughout the day and it might’ve been because I’d been avoiding him, but after what Danika said—and even though I really didn’t believe her—there was a good chance I’d start giggling like a hyena if left alone with him.

And that was ridiculous.

I was ridiculous.

But the idea of experiencing any of those things with Zayne left my head spinning and caused my pulse to pound throughout my body. Trying to get comfortable, I curled my leg up, but it didn’t help. I pushed off the blankets, kicking them down to the foot of the bed, but my skin still felt too tight, as if there was no room between my bones and my flesh.

I rolled onto my back. Placing my hand against my stomach, I wasn’t surprised to find that the skin felt warm, and then a little knot formed, leaving me frustrated...and confused. My thoughts were all tangled together, because when I felt this low burn sloshing through my veins, I also thought of Roth and everything we’d shared. And when I thought about Zayne that way, I felt as though I was doing something wrong, which was stupid, because as Roth had made abundantly clear, there was nothing between us.

Too hot and too wound up to sleep, I slipped out of bed around three in the morning. Pulling on a pair of fuzzy knee-high socks that actually reached my thighs, I grabbed a heavy sweater and pulled it on over my tank top and sleep shorts.

Hair a mess and a walking fashion disaster, I crept out of my bedroom and headed downstairs. At this time of night, most of the house would be dead. Jasmine and Danika would either be asleep or off somewhere with the twins. Only Geoff would be around, monitoring cameras, and outside there’d be guards just in case something crazy happened. For the most part, I’d have the house to myself.

The cool air soothed some of the heat as I hurried down the stairs, the edges of my unbuttoned sweater flapping out behind me like fluttering wings.

My sock-covered feet were silent as I padded into the kitchen and grabbed a small bottle of OJ. I started to close the fridge door when I reached back in and grabbed what was left of the sugar-cookie dough.

Taking my goodies and holding them close, I started toward the living areas but veered off in the direction of the library. Using my hip, I nudged the heavy wooden door open. I dropped the dough and OJ on the desk and then turned on the old-fashioned lamp. A soft glow filled the large room.

I breathed in deeply, inhaling the musky scent of old books. I’d spent many nights and days in this library when I was younger and as I scanned the numerous rows of books, I found that I’d read almost all of them. There’d been a lot of lonely days and nights. Still were.

Breaking off a chunk of dough, I shuffled around the desk and started perusing the spines, not looking for anything in particular, but as I was somewhere between bored-enough-to-read and I’d-rather-lie-in-bed-frustrated, something snagged my attention.

Methods and Practices of Herbs and Their Impact on Demons and Wardens.

Not exactly light bedtime reading or the kind of book you’d find in a human library, but I thought about the vial I’d seen Abbot carrying and my curiosity got the best of me. Tugging it out, I turned and placed it on the desk as I munched on my raw dough. Most of the book was handwritten, herbs listed in alphabetical order and accompanied with drawings.

Not even ten minutes later, the space behind my eyes started to ache. There were way too many herbs in the world and too many that were ingredients in milky-white potions.

I lifted my gaze as I grabbed my OJ and took a drink, loving the way it tingled down my throat. An idea took form. Not a smart one, but an intriguing one.

Abbot was out for the night as were most of the Wardens. Geoff was somewhere, so that was a risk, but... I was bored and curious.

The study that Abbot occupied was right down the hall. I could access it through the door in the library. It opened up into a small sitting room no one ever used and through that room I could get into his office without using the hall, which would likely be monitored. But the sitting room? Probably not.

Setting the OJ down, I hurried around the desk, my feet slipping along the hardwood floors. I burst through the door to the sitting room, relieved to find it empty and dark, and before I gave myself time to chicken out, I tried the knob on Abbot’s door.

It was unlocked.

I held my breath as I turned the knob. The door creaked like old bones as I pushed it open. There was a lamp on his desk with a green ceramic shade, which cast a small swath of light over the desk and the floor.

The room smelled like Abbot—of soap, the outdoors and a faint trace of the cigars he toyed with. A ball formed in my throat as I crept toward his large oak desk. I could count on one hand how many times the Warden had hugged me, but when he had, his hugs were always warm and wonderful.

I missed them.

Swallowing down the lump, I decided to attack the desk first. There were a lot of places where he could’ve stashed what I was looking for—the shelves along the back walls, the cases that were surely locked and a dozen little cubbies here and there.

The first couple of drawers had nothing in them that interested me—papers and correspondences from the police and government, emails from other clan leaders. The second drawer was filled with pens, the kind that made me all grabby hands, and the third had more sticky notes than God needed.

Fourth drawer—the bottom drawer—was where I hit the jackpot. Literally.

Cushioned in a thick, dark towel, dozens of small vials rolled around harmlessly as I pulled the drawer out as far as I could. Kneeling down, I picked up one that looked like it had grapefruit juice in it and then placed it back down, carefully poking around until I found the one that looked familiar. I lifted the vial gingerly, watching the milky liquid slosh around as I stood.

Turning the vial over, I frowned as I read the scribble along the bottom. “Bloodroot?”

“What are you doing?”

I squeaked and almost dropped the vial. Spinning around, I clutched it to my chest as I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Zayne.”

He stood in the doorway I’d snuck through, dressed in dark pants and a black shirt. Even though it was quite chilly outside, a full-blooded Warden’s body temperature ran higher than humans’ or even mine. He folded his arms and arched a brow.

“You scared the crap out of me.” Heart pounding, all I could think about was the vial in my hand. Zayne wouldn’t understand why I was sneaking around in Abbot’s office, no matter how harmless it was. When he only stared at me, I tried a diversion as I lowered my hands. “What are you doing back so early?”

“What are you doing in my father’s study?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Hands now hidden behind the desk, I slid the vial down my palm. I’d either have to drop it and pray to the Dalai Lama that it didn’t break, or pretend to faint and put it back. Neither of those options filled me with any confidence. “Nope.”

“Uh-huh.”

My cheeks started to heat, and I was glad for the room’s dim lighting. “You didn’t tell me why you’re back so early.”

“And you haven’t told me what you’re really doing in here.”

I shifted my weight, preparing to drop the vial back into the drawer I’d found it in. All I needed was the name and I’d gotten that. “I couldn’t sleep so I was—Ack!”

Zayne moved incredibly fast, seeming to disappear from just inside the door only to reappear right in front of me. Before I could drop the vial, he wrapped his hand around my wrist.

“What is this?” he asked as he lifted my arm.

My fingers tightened around the vial. “Uh...”

He cocked his head to the side and sighed. “Layla.”

I tried to pull free, but when that didn’t work, I equaled and then topped his sigh with my own. “Fine. I saw Abbot with this vial a few days ago, and I wanted to know what it was. So that’s what I was looking for.”

“At three in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep and I was down in the library when the idea occurred to me.” I tugged on my arm again. “I wasn’t in here photocopying Warden secrets or killing babies. Look.” I wiggled my fingers until he could see the vial’s handwritten label. “I’m not lying.”

His gaze flicked down and he frowned. “Bloodroot?”

“You know what it is?” If so, happy me, because it would be so much better having him just explain it than going through that dusty book again.

“Yes.” He let go of my arm and snatched it out of my fingers quickly, like a cat. “You shouldn’t be messing with that stuff.”

“Why?”

Very carefully, he placed the vial back in the drawer and eased it shut. Standing, he cast me a long look. “Come on.”

Stubbornly, my feet sank into the floor. “Tell me what you know.”

Zayne rounded the desk and kept going. “Layla, come on before someone else comes back, sees you in here and freaks out.”

He had a point, and while I was feeling this childish urge to argue, I ignored it and followed him back into the library. Slipping past him, I made a beeline for the desk while he closed the door behind him.

My eyes widened as I spotted the OJ, the book and the...the empty cookie dough wrapper. I whirled on Zayne. “You ate my cookie dough!”

A small grin tipped his lips up. “Maybe.”

I heaved out a sigh as I grabbed the bottle of OJ. “That’s so wrong.”

He sauntered over to the desk and placed his palms on the edge, leaning in so that we were at eye level. “I’ll get a new pack for you in the morning.”

“You should,” I said, sounding grumpy and peevish. And I was feeling those things because he was close, and all I could think about was what Danika had said and all those dirty things I’d been thinking about that drove me from my bed. I pushed away from the desk.

A brow went up as he watched me cross the room. “You’re in a lovely mood.”

I shrugged as I eyed him over the bottle. Plopping down on the couch partially hidden by the shadows, I set my OJ on the end table. “You going to tell me about the bloodroot?”

“It’s a herb.”

I picked up a pillow and placed it in my lap. “That much I figured.”

“It’s actually pretty dangerous.” He followed me over to the couch, sat and kicked off his boots and socks. Leaning back against the other arm, he stretched out the best he could, which meant he left me the tiny space I was occupying. “It doesn’t have much of an effect on demons, other than making them sleepy. But it can kill a human and knock out and paralyze a Warden for a while.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Why would Abbot have something like that?”

“I don’t know. The bottle looked ancient. So did a lot of those bottles in there. He might have saved it for a Warden who gets out of hand. Like with Elijah back...” He trailed off, lowering his gaze.

I stiffened a little as my fingers tightened around the throw pillow. It was the first time Zayne has used my father’s name—my absentee father. The Warden who’d slept with Lilith, and who, after discovering he’d fathered a child, had tried to have said child killed. Multiple times. That would be me. Abbot had stopped him when I was young and I could see how bloodroot might’ve come in handy then.

“Anyway,” Zayne said, watching me. “I came home early because there wasn’t much going on. And I ran into Roth.”

A twisty motion seized my stomach. “You did?”

He nodded. “He was doing his nightly stalking duties, I guess. Found me down by Foggy Bottom and wanted to know how Abbot took the whole Church of God’s Children crap.”

I schooled my features into blankness. Roth could’ve easily texted or called me to find that out. Then again, I’m not sure why I’d expect that from him. “Good to see that you two didn’t physically harm one another.”

“I wouldn’t say it was the most pleasant conversation.” Zayne shifted on the couch beside me, nudging my thigh with his foot. I looked at him, brows raised. “What’s your deal?” he asked, brushing the flop of blond hair off his forehead.

Holding my pillow closer, I shook my head. “Nothing.”

He leaned against the arm of the couch, lazily clasping the back of his neck with his hand. The muscles under his thin shirt bunched with the movement. “Something’s bothering you.”

Sometimes I really hated that Zayne could read me so well. That when he looked at me, like he was now, I felt as though he could discover all my secrets with his stare alone. But that didn’t mean I was up for caring and sharing time.

Zayne sighed. “You avoided me all day today.”

“Did not.”

“Did, too.” He closed his eyes, giving a lopsided shrug. “Something is up with you.”

Twirling a long strand of hair around my finger, I made a face at Zayne even though he couldn’t see it. “I wasn’t avoiding you.” Totally a lie. “That’s just your insecurity talking.”

One eye popped open. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I said, trying to hide my smile. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I’ve been very busy today.”

The other eye opened as he lowered his arm, draping it on the back of the couch. I had his full attention now. “You didn’t do crap today but hang out in your room and stare at Izzy as she tried to bite your feet.”

My eyes narrowed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

I continued to twist my hair into one giant rope. “I just couldn’t.”

A couple of moments of silence passed. “I’m actually glad you’re up. There’s something I want to talk to you about. It has to do with Roth.” He said the name as if it were some new STD.

“Do we really need to talk about him?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “Stop messing with your hair.”

My fingers stilled and I dropped my hand, returning his frown. “What about Roth?”

“I don’t trust him. Not just because he’s a demon, but because of what...well, what he may or may not mean to you.” His eyes still hadn’t left my face. “He’s... It doesn’t matter. I know you’re going to see him at school, but I don’t want you running off with him alone.”

My gaze sharpened on him. The frustration from earlier was back, prickling my skin and causing Bambi to get twitchy. “Yeah, because that’s exactly what I was planning to do.”

“Look, I’m not saying that you would, but I know you’re going to want to find out more about the Lilin and I don’t want you alone with him.”

I opened my mouth.

“Only because I don’t want to see you hurt more,” he added, and what could I really say to that. Could it be more than that, though? God knew what Roth and Zayne had said to each other, and now that Zayne knew the full extent of what had gone down with Roth, I could only guess what he was thinking.

From underneath my lashes, I watched him stretch fluidly, like a cat with a full belly. Zayne was super protective of me, but that didn’t mean he was jealous or that he was in love with me.

“Besides there’s another reason why I came home early,” he drawled lazily. “I was sure you missed me.”

“Not likely.” I tossed the small pillow at his head. He plucked it from the air a second before it smacked him in the face. “Not at all.”

He flipped the pillow behind his neck, eyeing me. “Terrible liar.” He couldn’t know how closely his words echoed Roth’s, and I wasn’t about to tell him.

“I’m not lying.”

His lips twitched as if he wished to smile. “Uh-huh.”

I leaned forward, knocking his legs off the couch. They thumped against the floor. He kicked them back up.

“Don’t be a brat, Layla-bug.”

Looking away, I dragged in a deep breath, uneasy with the restlessness I was feeling. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“Believe me, I know you aren’t.”

I twisted toward him, about to say something snarky, but the words were stolen from my tongue. He wasn’t joking. Holy crap, he was being serious. And that look—the way his eyes were hooded and lips parted—spoke of something I wasn’t used to, but had seen on him the day he’d walked into my bedroom when I was undressing.

We stared at each other in silence. Nothing and everything changed between us in an instant. Thick tension hung in the air, settling over me like a too-warm blanket. His eyes glittered like sapphire jewels in the dim light, eliciting a shiver even though I felt flushed again.

He pushed up a little, and again, I thought of what Danika had said.

I wanted to bail.

And that’s what I did. Coming quickly to my feet, I smoothed my hands over my hair, hoping he didn’t notice how they trembled. “All this talking has tired me out. I’m going to bed. Good night.”

Zayne cocked an eyebrow at me and remained on the couch.

I practically ran from the room and up the stairs. What in the Hell had just happened in there? I didn’t know, but I recognized the heavy, breathless feeling in my chest. It had to be the lack of sleep and my overactive imagination.

Once in my room, I stripped off the cardigan and socks, forcing my mind to go blank. It wasn’t easy. As I pulled back the covers, my bedroom door swung open, causing me to squeak.

Zayne walked through the door, still barefoot as he folded his arms across his chest. What if I’d been naked? My cheeks turned a deep crimson at the realization that the thin tank didn’t hide much.

Struggling not to fold my arms over my breasts, I held myself still. “What do you want now?”

“Nothing.” He stalked over to my bed and dropped down, stretching out his long frame. He patted the spot next to him. “Come here.”

“Zayne...?” I shifted uncomfortably, wanting to both flee the room and jump in the bed beside him. “You’re being annoying tonight.”

“You’re annoying every night.” He patted the bed again, a lock of hair falling over his eyes. “Stop acting so weird, Layla.”

How was I the one acting weird? Okay. Maybe I was being a little antsy. Him taking up my bed like he owned it wasn’t anything new. Hell, he’d slept in it a few nights ago.

But everything seemed different after what Danika had said.

“You coming?” he murmured, watching me. Taking a deep breath, I climbed into bed. He eased down on his side, his leg brushing mine. “Nice shorts.”

Of course he’d notice my Hello Kitty shorts. “Can you not talk?”

He chuckled. “You’re in such a mood tonight. Was it the sugar-cookie dough?”

I rolled onto my side, facing him. There was little space between us and I closed my mouth, but the strangest thing happened when our eyes met. My breath caught as I stared at the face I knew like the back of my hand. I could close my eyes and still know every one of his expressions, except the one he wore right now. This one was something new, totally uncharted.

And it was scary—so incredibly terrifying, because I had never seriously considered Zayne returning any of my less than normal feelings for him. It was frightening because of what I wanted to do to him—what I could do to him. There was more—there was Roth and the stupid, irrational feeling that I was doing something wrong. He’d virtually sacrificed himself for me...and then told me that nothing he’d ever said or done mattered when it came to me.

Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling. My chest rose and fell in short, uneven breaths. The scent of him invaded my senses. My fingers rested against my stomach, opening and closing.

“What’s going on, Layla-bug?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

“Bullshit.” Zayne shifted suddenly, levering up with one arm so quickly that the air left my lungs in a harsh rush. He stared down at me, lips parted as if he was about to speak, but he seemed to lose track of what he was going to say. That was okay. I had no idea what we were talking about either.

There was barely an inch or two separating our bodies. We were so close that the edges of his hair brushed my cheeks. His gaze dipped to the neckline of my tank top. It was pulled low, revealing more than I should’ve been comfortable with. Bambi’s head was resting on the swell of my right breast. Again.

“She really likes putting her head there, doesn’t she?” Zayne’s voice was rough.

“I guess it’s soft for her.” The moment those words came out of my mouth I wanted to kick myself in my soft boob. “God,” I groaned. “Sometimes I need to—”

Zayne placed a finger on my chin, silencing me. That slight touch packed a punch of sensations—hunger, need, a yearning so intense that it rattled me to the core. “That would make sense.” Pausing, he swallowed as his gaze traced the detail of the demonic tattoo. “I bet it is a...soft place.”

This conversation was...whoa. Really no words.

“Why do you keep this necklace?” he asked, lightly fingering the chain.

It was a struggle to speak. “I... I don’t know.”

His features tightened for a moment and then he seemed to let whatever he was feeling go. The truth about why I kept the necklace had nothing to do with my mother, but then his hand moved, trailing his finger down the center of my throat, over the rise of my collarbone and then straight to where Bambi rested, stopping a mere inch from her head.

Oh my God.

My heart fluttered so fast in my chest it was like a hummingbird about to take flight. A heaviness settled in my chest, the pressure demanding yet pleasant. Then his finger moved again, gliding across the edge of Bambi’s head.

She moved slightly, turning into the touch like a pet seeking more comfort. I dragged in a breath as I wet my bottom lip. Should I be more shocked that he was touching me so intimately or that he was touching Bambi? Or that Bambi wasn’t peeling off my skin and trying to eat him? It really didn’t matter because every nerve ending in my body was tingling.

He traced the delicate scales around Bambi’s nostrils, and when I shivered, his gaze lifted, snaring mine. There was so much heat and intensity in those cobalt eyes that there was no mistaking how he was looking at me.

Like he had the night he’d seen me in my bra.

One side of his lips tipped up, and my heart jumped in my chest. His gaze returned to where Bambi rested, to where his finger was idly tracing her scales in smooth strokes. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would. The skin is just slightly raised, but it’s really like a tattoo.”

Mouth dry, I closed my eyes as his finger moved over her head, nearing the tiny lace that decorated the hem of my tank top. I wasn’t wearing anything under the tank and he was so, so close.

“Does she like it?” he asked, breath warm in the space between our lips.

I nodded, assuming she did, because she wasn’t trying to kill him.

“Do you?”

The question whipped through me with the force of a destructive hurricane. My eyes snapped open and my breath came in short little pants. He was still so close, his hair tickling my cheeks and his finger trailing farther south, following the curve of Bambi, under the lace of my tank top.

His lashes swept up again and his gaze collided with mine. I had no idea how we’d ended up here. His hand stilled and he waited, and there was no denying the driving force behind the question. If I said no, he would move away. And if I said yes, then... I couldn’t even wrap my head around those possibilities.

If I said yes, everything would change—change in ways I couldn’t even fathom, ways I never truly believed could happen between us. My heart was beating too fast, and a strange kind of heat pooled deep in my body.

“Yes.” The word came out barely a whisper, but Zayne heard it.

He inhaled sharply as he moved his hand to the thin strap of my tank top. His eyes never left mine. “Can I see the rest of her?”

My heart rate kicked into cardiac territory. Was I dreaming? Did I fall down the stairs and crack my head open? Seemed more likely than this happening. Seeing the rest of Bambi meant seeing the rest of me. Or at least half of the rest of me.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My gaze focused on the outline of his mouth, fixating on the way his lips parted, and I couldn’t help but wonder how they felt—how they tasted.

Only in the distant part of my mind did I realize that I wanted to taste him and not his soul.

Bambi flicked her tail along my waist, as if she was impatient with all of this and wanted to be shown off. Unable to find the courage to speak, I nodded again.

Zayne’s feverish gaze lowered as he slipped the strap down. The top was so loose and thin that it took the littlest effort to move. Within seconds, the straps ended up on my wrists, the material pooling where my hands were clasped together on my stomach.

I felt his stare as he drank in the detail of Bambi and everything else—every part of me that was exposed. It was like a caress as his gaze tracked over the long, elegant stretch of her neck between my breasts, to the way she coiled just below my rib cage.

“Layla,” he rasped, and the sound curled my toes.

I stopped breathing as his hand followed Bambi’s path, and the yearning and hunger I was feeling rose until every part of my body felt like a live wire. Everything outside this room ceased to exist—every problem, concern or issue. It was all gone as his hand moved again and my back arched off the bed. A breathy sound escaped me, mingling with Zayne’s ragged breath.

His touch was light, reverent as he explored the layout of my body. He did so with such delicacy it was as though it was his first time, though I knew—at least I thought—that that couldn’t be the case. With his looks and his personality, there had to have been times when he was out hunting—there had to have been girls.

But it didn’t matter as he shifted down, his head lowering close to where Bambi’s head rested. There was a good chance this could go horribly wrong, but my hands fisted together and I bit down on my lip so hard a metallic taste filled my mouth at the first whispered touched of his lips against—

The bedroom door swung open, slamming into the wall with a force that rattled the room like a clap of thunder. Zayne sprung off me and onto the floor in seconds. He whirled around and I sat up, tugging up my shirt with my heart in my throat. We were so busted, and we were going to be in so much trouble.

But when I lifted my gaze, there was no one in the doorway, nothing behind the door except the long, dark hall and all the shadows of the night.

Zayne crossed the room, grasping the edge of the door as he peered out into the hallway. As he straightened and closed the door, he shook his head. “Nothing’s here.”

I shivered as a cold, almost icy breeze wafted over my skin. I glanced around the room, seeing nothing abnormal. “That’s...” I cleared my throat. “That’s weird.”

He thrust his fingers through his hair—fingers that had just been touching me. He turned back to me, his chest rising and falling heavily. He started to take a step toward me, but halted. The way he looked at me...my entire body flushed. “I... I should probably leave.”

I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to come back to me, but it wouldn’t be smart and the most intelligent thing would be to let him walk away from this room. Tugging the blanket up, I force myself to nod.

Zayne stared at me a moment longer and then swallowed hard before he turned and quietly slipped out of the room. I stayed where I was as the cold reality of the situation came back. No matter how I felt for him or him for me, pursuing anything with Zayne was dangerous.

And it could never be.