Because her love was a miracle. I knew that, and I didn’t even believe in such things. The love of a woman like Bea, like the women some of my brothers had been lucky enough to find, was a miracle. I’d just never believed in that for myself.
Miracles were for the good.
What did a damned man do when he was graced with one? If he had even a fucking ounce of goodness, he would turn and run from her, free her of his ominous presence and his death-dealing ways.
Oh, but there was not even an ounce of that in me.
Not even a fucking molecule.
I was all bad, and unfortunately or not for Bea, I was all hers.
If another man wanted her, I would kill him. I didn’t care why or how or even if Bea would hate me for it. She was mine until my last breath. And if I had to die for her, protecting her from the savages like me who wanted to own her light, then so be it. I couldn’t think of a better fucking way to go. Even after that, I’d haunt her until she joined me in whatever afterlife there might be.
So why did I feel this trembling hesitation like some virgin on his wedding night? Why did I feel so recalcitrant in the face of her obvious love and years-long devotion?
Why was I afraid?
This slip of a girl with hair like moonlight and eyes a wide and unbeguiling blue somehow had the capacity to terrify me when no one ever had before. Not even the demons that haunted my past had held me so much in a fearful thrall.
I felt as though I was desperate for something I wasn’t ready––might not ever be ready––to find.
And that little Bea Lafayette was offering it to me on a silver fucking platter.
“Priest?”
I blinked, realizing we’d pulled into her driveway and that I’d been driving on autopilot. Bea was stroking her hands down my abs, tracing the boxed muscles with her delicate fingers in a way that made me want to fuck her on the back of my bike. Instead, I froze, unable to withstand such tenderness.
“Goin’ in to check out the place, then callin’ in Wrath and Bat to stand guard with you tonight,” I told her, deciding it was best to lay out the rules from the get-go.
For such a sweet girl, Bea could be damn tenacious.
As if to prove my thought, she swung off the bike to face me and fisted her hands on her hips. She looked adorable in her muddy peacoat and destroyed girly shoes with her hair all dirty and tousled around her face.
I frowned, because before that moment, I’d never called anyone or anything “adorable” in my entire life. I hadn’t even known what it meant until I saw Bea standing there like an indignant little girl about to stomp her foot even as my cum ran down her thigh.
“You are absolutely not doing that, Priest McKenna,” she warned me with narrowed eyes. “You just fucked me nine ways from Sunday in the middle of a cemetery.” She blushed fiercely but forged on. I wanted to lick the pink in her cheeks. “My pussy still aches from you. I think you owe it to me to at least come inside for a bit.”
I scowled, feeling like a bear caught in a trap. If I had to, I knew I’d gnaw off my own leg to escape. “Not gonna fuckin’ cuddle you or some shit.”
Bea rolled her eyes dramatically. “Like you’d even know how. I don’t need tenderness. I just need you. Now, get off that bike and come inside. I’m freezing, and I can’t wait to see Sampson and Delilah.”
With a flip of that long mane, she turned on her heel and practically skipped up the walk to her door. Amusement moved through my chest and maybe even a little awe.
No one talked to me like that. All sass and teasing.
Usually, people took one of two tones when speaking to me: awe and fear.
Bea wasn’t afraid of me, not at all, not despite my best efforts. There was awe there, though, in the way she muttered my name like a prayer when I was deep inside her, in the way she paid homage to my body like it was some religious artifact.
I didn’t want to get off my bike almost as much as I wanted to follow her inside.
The latter impulse won.
I gritted my teeth, swung off my Harley, and stalked after her. My hand stopped hers as she went to turn the knob.
“You got your knife handy?” I grunted.
She bit the slightly bruised lower curve of her mouth. Bruised from my kisses. I wrenched my eyes away with serious fucking effort.
“Yes.”
I nodded curtly. “Stay here, stay vigilant. Gonna check out the house.”