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CHAPTER 6
He wasted no time in seeking her out.
With mission directives given to his team to flush out a warehouse he knew would yield nothing, Mathias himself took off for Southwark the moment the sun dipped below the horizon.
When his street side surveillance of Ozzy’s shop showed Nova’s absence in the studio that evening, Mathias took a chance that he might find her in the apartment she lived in on the third floor.
He entered through the back of the old brick building, mentally flipping the lock with an ease all of the Breed possessed. A rear stairwell climbed up from the ground level. Mathias ascended to the top in the time it would take a mortal to blink.
Once he was standing in front of what had to be Nova’s apartment, he cooled his heels and let his knuckles fall against the unmarked door. He heard faint movement inside, bare feet padding over hardwood floors.
Nova’s voice sounded weary on the other side of the wood panel as she freed the deadbolt. “Eddie, you were just up here five minutes ago. Now, I told you, I’m not feeling well tonight, so, please, just let me--”
Her words cut short the instant she opened the door and saw Mathias standing there. What little color she had in her face in that moment drained away. She was dressed for a quiet night in, loose-fitting black sweats and a strappy black tank. Mathias didn’t know what was more appealing--her perky breasts zipped into last night’s tight black leather vest, or braless beneath the scrap of cotton that was all to prevent him now from taking them into his hands.
He cleared his throat, but couldn’t quite mask the emerging presence of his fangs. “I hope you don’t mind if I come in.”
Her chin hiked up. “Yes, actually, I bloody well do mi--hey!”
He stepped forward, taking hold of her upper arms as he strode inside. He steered her into the living area and closed the door behind him with a stern mental command.
When the deadbolt clicked back into place, Nova’s indigo-ringed, light blue eyes went from shock to outrage. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“That’s what I came to ask you,” he growled back at her. “Where were you this morning?”
She glared, but there was a guilty glint in her gaze. “I don’t answer to you.”
“Tonight you do, Nova. If you’re smart--and I know you are--you’ll tell me everything now. What happened the other night in Ozzy’s shop, why you went to the morgue this morning and why...all of it.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Damn it, woman. Don’t lie to me. I’m not your enemy.”
“Yet,” she finished quietly. “I don’t even know you.”
He swore roundly. “Yes, you do, Nova. Do you think if I wanted to hurt you, or if I didn’t care what happens to you, I’d be standing here right now, asking you to trust me?”
“Why?” Her voice was so thin, he hardly heard it over the drumming of his pulse.
“Why, what?”
“Why do you care, Mathias?”
For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to answer that. He couldn’t point to any one reason that made sense to him, and yet there were a hundred things about this damaged, but resilient, woman that he wanted to understand. He only wanted her to give him that chance.
“I care, because I see a beautiful, strong young woman who’s hurting--badly--and I want to take some of that hurt away, if I can. I see a scared little girl behind all of your ink and metal and claws, and I want her to know that she can be safe.”
Tenderness shone in the soft blue of her eyes. Her answering scoff, however, was bitter. “I don’t need some goddamned white knight riding to my rescue, Mathias. I thought we already covered that.”
“Yeah, we did,” he said. “And now I’ve got the tattoo to prove it.”
She dipped her head, not quite in time to hide the sudden, slight curve of her lips. “I suppose you hate it.”
“Not at all.” He lifted her chin on the tips of his fingers. “If you didn’t want me playing gallant knight to your obstinate lady, then you shouldn’t have put Sir Galahad’s sword on my back.”
He expected her to smile, maybe even laugh. But instead a pained look crossed her lovely face. “I can’t do this.”
She reached up to draw his hand away from her, and that’s when he saw--really saw--the colorful design that covered the back of her right hand. The blue eye surrounded by elaborate swirls and flourishes had looked like some kind of hex symbol to him on first glance. Now, he saw something else hidden within the mark.
