Page 86 of Dead Vengeance

Simon slides off the bench and leans close, making sure Liam can’t hear us. “I am trying to help. Take my advice and stop trying to fight the thing. Get out of here, leave this place to it. Take Liam and run. I’ll come, and we’ll set up shop somewhere I don’t need to worry about it wrenching me back into the void at any second. Or somewhere worse.”

He drops the ghost cigarette to the floor and stamps on it with his blue silk slippers. “If you need me, I’ll be in the barn. Sans Fabian. Thank you so much.”

Then he disappears into thin air.

After a soft nuzzle against my cheek, Edgar flaps back outside.

Now, it’s just me and Liam, and one very big decision to make.

twenty-five

The Very Big Decision

Liam

My stomach’s been a jumble of nerves all the way out here, and somehow it’s even worse now I’m at his door. Everything with Archer felt so right last night. So nice when I woke up this morning. But he’s taking so long to answer the door, and I can’t help but think… did I kind of… jump on him? Was he maybe not as into it as I was? Have I gone and made this working relationship awkward?

But then any ‘working’ relationship will be short-lived. I’m killing this thing. Today. I’m going to walk straight up those stairs, straight into the attic, and that creature is going to be dead. Gone. And it’s going to stop dredging up these horrible memories.

I lay a hand on the gun in my pocket, just to be sure it’s there, as if that could guarantee it working properly and being capable of killing this thing. Then I raise my fist again, ready to knock a second time, when the door finally pulls open.

Archer.

His sweater is purple today. Some beautiful, bright shade of purple that sets off his deep brown skin, making him look even more handsome than he did in the firelight last night. Which was very handsome.

The scent of his cologne curling on the autumnal morning air puts me straight back in that car, where I was so close to him. Where I felt so right in his arms.

But he hasn’t moved a step closer. Hasn’t offered the kiss I was slightly daydreaming about. Some casual movement that might cement something—be the tipping point between casual sex and a relationship.

It’s not surprising. Even after what he said to me last night. That he’s always wanted me. That he wants to be… my slut. My slut.

Fuck, that was too hot, and I’m standing here saying fucking nothing, and his smile is way too close to polite.

So I try, “Good morning, Mr Gravely.”

He cracks that gorgeous grin and steps aside with a chest-deep laugh. “Will you stop calling me that?”

“I don’t think so, no,” I reply, as coyly as possible.

Archer’s kitchen is beautiful this morning. He’s got fresh flowers in an old jug on his wooden table. It looks so artfully rustic. He’s got nice china out. The place smells like a bakery.

Edgar coos at me from the windowsill, and as keen as I am to get over there and give him a pet, I’d better check Simon’s out of the way first so I don’t upset him by having the gun in the house.

I turn back to Archer, but he also turns to me, and I walk straight into his chest.

The thin wool of his jumper barely hides a line of those built pecs, though my gaze doesn’t stay there long. How could it when his amber eyes run over me, when he dips his head just a little, when I feel his breath on my cheek… and I follow the inclination that feels more like instinct.

A slight lift of my chin, the rise of my heels, and my lips meet his, shy and soft, my heart thumping in my chest. I press a quick and tentative kiss because I guess I’m as bad at lying physically as I am verbally.

He’s here, so near, and I want this. And he can tell me no. If he doesn’t like me, or doesn’t want me that way, he can just say it.

He doesn’t. There’s a beat where he doesn’t do anything, a bit like last night when I kissed him first. So I pull away, shrinking back. But his lips chase mine, and the second kiss is all his. The hand that lands on my hip brings me under his firm control with the simplest movement. I step straight up against him, pelvis brushing his, and when his tongue flicks across the seam of my lips, I practically beg him to take me, explore every inch of my mouth however he wants to, curl up and make his home there if he’d like.

What started as something small, light, hopeful, has instantly turned to fire, and I am so happy I don’t have a colleague accompanying me today.

Archer’s spare hand shoves the door closed, then I drag both of mine up his sides, across his back, wondering if it’s too soon to get this top off and see everything I wanted so badly to see last night.

I wrench him towards the sofa. He stumbles one step, two, then plants his feet firmly, breaking the kiss with a heavy breath, even as his forehead presses against mine, my whole world swimming in the ecstasy of him.