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I combed the short, silky strands back from her face, telling myself I was simply making her more comfortable, but my fingers knew different. The tips tingled with the need to touch her—her hair, her lips, her fine-grained skin. To relearn her body, discover how pregnancy had changed it.
I traced a thumb over her high cheekbone. I could’ve taken her on the street, but I’d deliberately forced my way into her apartment.
A message: Fuck with the syndicate and there’s no place you can hide.
The woman meant nothing to me. I was a Maritime lieutenant here to drag a pretty, lying traitor back home. For a while there, I’d forgotten that humans were prey, good only for blood and sex. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
The plan had been to take her directly back to Lilith Island. I’d intended to make her as uncomfortable as possible, to march her out of here with only the clothes on her back. Even food would be contingent on her good behavior.
That, of course, was no longer an option.
But what in Lilith’s name was going on?
Eden had left Canada with close to a half-million dollars. Even in Canadian money, that was enough cash for her to live more comfortably.
So why was she sharing a cramped apartment with a scrawny, pink-haired kid in ripped jeans? And working long hours at some used-clothes store?
I came back to my feet. Rio hovered a few feet away, an oversized cup of soup in his hand.
I turned an accusing glare on him. “What the fuck was she doing carrying groceries up three flights of stairs?”
His brows lowered belligerently. “Hey, I’m not her boss. She does what she wants. If you know her at all, you know that.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed the side of my neck.
“Anyway, you heard her,” he said, his tone aggressive. “She’s hungry. She worked through dinner tonight to make some extra cash. Then you dudes bust in here and scare the shit out of her.”
I just looked at him. He puffed up but had the sense to close his mouth.
Eden’s lids fluttered. She was coming around.
I eased off her suede jacket and dropped it over the back of the couch. Beneath she wore black pants, low-heeled boots and a simple cream shirt with ruffled cuffs.
Even as a teenager, she’d had a gift for looking both classy and funky.
And yeah, I’d noticed her back then. I hadn’t acted on it or acknowledged her in any way.
But I’d noticed.
I ran my hand over her abdomen, unable to resist. The loose, thigh-length shirt hid it, but she definitely had a baby bump.
Beneath my fingers, a tiny heart pulsed. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
My throat worked. Mine.
Eden’s striking blue eyes flew open. “Don’t,” she said, pushing my hand away. As if she had to protect her child from me.
My fingers dug into my palm. I scrutinized her face, looking for something—anything. A hint that I was wrong and she wasn’t trying to defend her child against me. An apology, even.
But she closed her eyes, shutting me out.
So that’s how you want to play this.
I deliberately opened my clenched hand, retreating to the icy, emotionless state I’d been in ever since I’d realized that Eden hadn’t just broken her contract, she’d spied for Brien’s enemies.
Eden pushed up on her forearms and, before I could stop her, swung her feet to the floor. “My boots. The couch—it’s new.”
“Who the hell cares? You’re never coming back here.”
