“So that advice is a one-way street with you, huh. You expect others to drop shit, but you don’t have to.”
“Yup.” She sat up. “Kind of like you refusing to respect boundaries. No matter how many times you’re told to lay off. ”
Abruptly, she glanced at the door like in her mind she was walking through it. And then she let her head fall back and started muttering curses toward the bedroom’s ceiling.
“If you’re going to yell at me,” Sahvage remarked, “you might as well let me in on the lovefest. Seems only fair—and hey, I can always use pointers on how to properly use the word ‘asshole.’”
She shot a look at him. “Actually, I’m yelling at myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t believe you were one of the things I was angry at.”
“Oh, come on.” He laughed out loud. “That’s not a news flash. You’ve been pissed at me since you met me. Which is pretty rich considering you distracted me in that fight—”
“Do not bring up that whole cut thing again.”
“Cut?” He sat up as well so they were on the same level. “You’re calling that arterial bleed a cut? Just out of curiosity, what do you consider a wound. Total evisceration?”
“You lived!”
“I always live,” he said roughly.
“Right, because you’re such a hard-ass.”
“Wasn’t that what you were going to put on my name tag?”
“Actually, ‘badass’ was what I was thinking. And that was only because ‘asshat’ was already taken.”
Sahvage started to smile. He couldn’t help it. “I get under your skin, don’t I.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Not at all.”
“Okay. I believe you.” He put his palms out. “Honest. I’m just curious, though . . . what in particular were you so angry with me about? I mean, it can’t be my charming personality.”
As she turned to face him, there was a pause—and abruptly, the air in the room changed. And even though it was dim, he could tell her eyes had dropped to his mouth, and in spite of her injuries, her scent shifted. Deepened.
“G’on, tell me,” Sahvage murmured. “You know how much you enjoy listing my shortcomings. There are so many of them in your book.”
When she still didn’t look away, even after he taunted her . . . that was when his blood started to thicken.
“Back when I was stuck in that place, I was angry . . .” Her voice broke. “I was angry that I was never going to know what it was like.”
“What is ‘it.’”
There was a long silence. Then she said, “Do you think we’re going to survive this?”
Unlike the “it,” he did not want her to struggle to define the “this.” There was no reason for her to say out loud that they were facing that brunette, searching for a Book that was a black-magic catalogue, and trying to raise the dead.
Yeah, ’cuz what could possibly go wrong with all that shit.
“I can promise,” he said, “that I will do everything in my power to get you out alive.”
Like they were in a dogfight.
Like they weren’t?
“Will I ever find the Book?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “But if that summoning spell worked to bring me to you . . . I’m going to bet it’s going to work to bring the Book in. It’s just taking some time to arrange the handoffs.”
And when it did land in her lap, he was going to save her life by—
“I was angry because I felt cheated,” she whispered. “If I didn’t . . .”
Now he was the one staring at her mouth. And fucking hell, there were so many reasons not to go down the road that was appearing before them, yet again. But . . .
“Say it,” he commanded.
“If I didn’t know what you were like.”
On a surge of sexual heat, Sahvage reached out and touched her face again, letting his fingertips drift along her jaw and then travel down to the flickering pulse at the side of her throat.
“You mean, as a dinner companion?” he said. “Or were you thinking of something more . . . engaging? Like chess.”
Mae sputtered a laugh. “Seriously.”
“Parcheesi?” He tilted forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I already know Monopoly puts you to sleep.”
Mae leaned into him, and he felt her hand on his shoulder—but not to push him away. She held on to him.
“I want just want to be with you.” As he went to say something, she put her finger on his lips to silence him. “I know it doesn’t change anything. I know you’re going to leave when this is all over. But I keep thinking . . . here I am, determined to bring my brother back—but what kind of life am I leading? All I do is work and worry. And the two people who made me swear to never have sex before I was mated have been gone for how many years? Three? What exactly am I waiting for? When is the next dog cage coming for me—and what will I be angry about not having done then?”