I couldn’t help but feel just a teensy amount of satisfaction.
“What are you doing creeping around my backyard?” I asked. “I could have killed you!”
“Obviously,” he said, still breathless. His fingers tightened uncomfortably on my wrist. “Guinevere.” His gaze locked on mine before flicking down to my hand.
To where the knife rested against his neck.
The silver knife.
On his demon skin.
“Shit! Sorry!” I tossed the blade away on the grass, horrified.
Zane relaxed beneath me and released my wrist on a low exhale. A red mark branded the pale skin of his throat from where the blade had touched him, but I hadn’t actually sliced him open.A small mercy.
It occurred to me then that I was still straddling Zane. The hard muscles of his abdomen flexed beneath my core as he struggled to catch his breath, stirring a tidal wave ofneedinside me.Oh!The flush in my cheeks from embarrassment turned to the heat of desire.
Zane’s silvery blue eyes turned molten as he sensed the shift in the air.
I scrambled off of him before I did something stupid. Lucky for me, he was still too dazed by being knocked on his ass to pursue the subject.
He managed to sit up, then lifted a hand to his neck as if testing for blood, before he blinked at me. “How did you do that?”
I shrugged. “Eve taught me some things. So did Gleason.” I paused as another trace of sulfur met my nose, and sniffed the air around Zane. “Did you come from Hell?”
A smirk touched the corners of his lips, and he opened his mouth to respond—presumably with sarcasm, if the look on his face told me anything—but then he froze. His pupils dilated, and he turned his nose to the wind. “Someone’s here,” he whispered, sniffing the air.
Zane climbed to his feet with effortless ease and began to stalk through the yard, his nose still turned up. I scrambled to follow, snagging my knife from the grass before I headed after him.
We searched thoroughly, finally finding the apex of the scent in the furthest corner of the yard, near where my property met the property behind mine.
A ring of singed grass confirmed our suspicions.
“Demon,” I said quietly.
“Or someone fresh from Hell, at least,” Zane agreed. He glanced around the yard, his brow knitted together. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”
We went back through the office door, where Zane stopped to make sure the lock was bolted. I fought a strong urge to grab the wine bottle and finish it off for good measure. Instead, I bypassed the kitchen and headed for the living room, where I turned the light back on and sank wearily to the couch.
Zane paused in the middle of the room and turned over his wrist, brandishing the black watch he always wore. He swiped his finger across the surface, and a large, square hologram appeared above it. The “screen” was dotted with apps and media, and he tapped one of the icons, opening up a message.
I watched in silence as he tapped out a quick note to Lord Zebulon.Guinevere is safe. Someone from Hell was in the yard. The scene is secure for now.
Then he swiped the watch again, and the hologram vanished.
He whirled on me, his face thunderous.
“Why the Hell were you outside?” he snapped.
I pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders as I replied, “I sensed something.”
“So you thought wandering around outside alone was the intelligent thing to do? With what?” He picked up my knife from the table and grimaced. “A silver blade? Are you channeling Eve now?”
“Yeah,” I said hotly. “With a silver knife and all. You jealous?”
He flipped the blade between his fingers and deftly caught the hilt. A smile flashed over his face. “Maybe.” He returned the dagger to the tabletop then looked at me, his grin melting into a grim line. “That was a stupid thing to do. Why didn’t you call someone?”
“Because I can take care of myself?” I offered, slightly irritated by what his question insinuated. “I’m not a damsel, Zane.”
