He stares, bobbing his head back and forth as though weighing the pros and cons of a brisk morning run versus a quick roll with a beautiful girl.
“I could show you the difference. If you’re up for it…” She bites her lip, takes a step back from the car. Holding herself in offering—leaving it to him to decide.
“What’re you after?” He works his jaw, rakes her with a deep, probing gaze.
She moves toward him, leans into his open window, and says, “Listen, I don’t see the point in playing games, so here it is: I like you.”
He nods like a person who’s so used to being admired, it would never occur to him to question her word.
“And now that you and Lita have broken up, I thought that maybe—”
“You got a twin fetish? Is that it?” He’s quick to cut her off.
She freezes.
“Didn’t you used to be with my brother?”
She bites her lip. Casts her gaze to the side.
“Is this your way of keeping his memory alive?”
“No.” She returns to him with an open, earnest face. “I know you’re nothing like him. I can see the difference in you. You’re darker. More dangerous. And it’s that very darkness that attracts me to you.”
Cade’s eyes narrow to slits. His fingers drum against the steering wheel. “Careful what you wish for,” he says. “You’re venturing into territory you don’t understand.”
“Don’t be so sure.” She places a hand on his arm. Her fingertips stroking his flesh, her tongue wetting the rim of her lips.
And as silly as it looks from up here, from the place where Cade sits, it holds a certain appeal.
His features blunt. His gaze clouds. And when I see his lips part, it’s clear that he’s hooked.
Phyre leans closer. Wets her lips again. Leaving them glossy. Dripping. Wet. Ready for him.
And without knowing why, I get this incredible urge to stop them. Convinced deep in my soul that this is no ordinary kiss.
It’s the first step to killing him. She’ll seduce him, render him vulnerable, and then finish him off in a way he couldn’t foresee, so she can report back to her crazy dad that her task is complete.
If she kills Cade, she kills Dace. And I won’t let that happen.
They angle their heads in opposite ways. Veering closer, lips just a short breath away, as the raven spreads his wings wide and swoops down between them.
Phyre screams, bats her hands frantically at her head, then screams even louder when a clump of shiny, black feathers fall to her feet.
As Cade settles back in his seat and directs his attention at me.
“Looks like Raven is against this particular love match,” he says, granting me a small wave of his hand, before he slams hard on the gas and leaves Phyre standing alone in the street.
thirty-two
Dace
Daire’s softly breathing form lies beside me. Her head in my lap, her long legs stretched out before her. I run a palm over her cheek, whisper soft words she can’t hear. For the moment, she’s like me. Living, breathing, but soulless. The true force of her energy has taken a journey, and it’s up to me to look after her.
I keep to my place on the far side of the shed. Watching as Suriel heads in and out of the trailer. His actions deliberate, purposeful. His body jittery, as though he’s downed two too many cups of coffee.
Only Suriel doesn’t drink coffee.
He shuns all forms of stimulants.