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“I’ve no time to deal with you myself, but make no mistake.” Logan pushed away and stood swiftly. The air around him blurred and for a second the beast shone through. Kira saw it reflected in Mergerone’s wild eyes.
She loved that he was scared shitless.
A dark stain appeared between the man’s legs and when Mergerone mouthed “please,” Kira wanted to smash her hand into his face.
“That’s my mark, you son of a bitch.” Logan spat.
Kira saw a red and raw crescent-like burn on Mergerone’s neck.
“Be warned,” Logan continued. “One of my brothers will be back for you, and where you’re going,” he smiled savagely, “there will be no escape.”
Logan turned and held his hand out toward Kira. She stared at it for several seconds. She knew she was on the precipice of another life-changing moment. Did she run from all of it or trust in Logan?
“Kira, we have to go.”
His voice was rough, the timbre intimate, and yet she sensed his confusion as well. It was then that she realized every single moment of her life had led to this point. If she never saw Logan again, he would still walk beside her every second of every day.
How could he not? She’d lived and breathed his memory.
Kira took a step forward. She didn’t want the memory. She wanted the real deal.
Logan moved suddenly, his arms grabbing her close, pulling her up against his chest. He ran from the morgue, his long legs carrying them past the front desk and out into the humid Florida evening. Kira melted into his warmth and her last coherent thought was of the cicadas.
About how their song had never sounded so sweet.
And of the man who held her.
Of how it felt as if he was the home she’d never had.
Chapter Thirteen
“SHE’S RESTING COMFORTABLY.”
Logan glanced up and nodded at Bill. He settled his large frame into the too-small wooden chair as best he could and took a long draw from the cold beer in his hand. Shadows clung to the corner he’d chosen, and though he appeared relaxed, he was, in fact, wound tighter than a tornado about to touch ground.
He’d met Bill at a large hotel somewhere along the border between Texas and Mexico. The Texan—not the most original of names. Bill had assured Logan the rambling bordello-style place was a safe haven, but still, he was wary.
Logan’s dark eyes scanned the entire room and he shifted, trying to alleviate the tight muscles that stretched across his shoulders. God, he was tired. He’d driven like a bat out of hell to get to Texas after deciding he couldn’t chance a normal shift. Logan wasn’t sure that Kira’s already weakened body could take another trip through space and time. He’d stolen an SUV—pointed it northeast—and had laughed like hell when he’d realized it belonged to Mergerone.
A satisfied grin stole over Logan’s face. Mergerone, the slimy fucker, would meet an end worthy of the filthiest of scumbags.
His thoughts drifted to the woman upstairs. She’d not woken the entire time it had taken them to get to the border and he was more than a little worried. Was there permanent damage?
“Is Kira going to be all right?” he asked, surprised to realize just how anxious he was to know her status.
Bill grabbed the seat across from him and grinned, the round jowls of his cheeks jiggling slightly as he settled himself in the wooden chair. “Oh yes. In a few days she’ll be good as new. I’ve seen to it.”
Logan’s fingers tightened around the beer bottle as he stared at the Seraphim. Bill had at least dialed down the glam factor since his last visit, and was wearing plain denim jeans and a jacket that, while not unfashionable, did not sport pink, shiny lapels.
A shout drew Logan’s attention and he glanced over at a group of men hanging near the bar. The room was full, though as far as he could tell the only otherworld creatures in the entire place sat at his table.
Logan took another swig of his beer and then set the empty bottle on the table. He got to his feet. “I’m glad she’s going to be all right.”
“Better than new, as I’m sure you’ll be glad to know.” Bill grinned up at him, his smile lopsided, his full cheeks flushed red. His eyes shimmered and Logan bristled at the display of power that resided in their depths.
He took a step back and nodded. “That’s great, but you’ve got me confused with someone who gives a shit.” He sounded like a cold bastard, and the table jiggled slightly as Bill’s eyes narrowed. Good. The little turd was finally getting it. Logan Winters didn’t give a flying fuck about Bill’s agenda. About the fucking League of Guardians. He’d done his part. As for Kira, well, he could admit that he was relieved she’d made it through the shift back and that it appeared she’d be okay. He might even have entertained the idea of Kira and . . . himself? Was he nuts?
He scowled and cursed. Best to let it rest.
