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If the demon had come for her, it probably knew that she would be able to see it. Axle was yet to understand why, but if there was even the slightest possibility that it could happen again, he needed to know that Natalie was safe at all times. The only way to do that was if he had his eyes on her at all times.
He steeled his mind against the objection he was sure to get and he coughed to get her attention. He coughed again when the first sound failed to get her attention. She looked up at him with a questioning gaze. It was a wonder how she could affect him so much with just a gaze.
“You’re going to have to come away with me, Nat.”
Her perplexed gaze remained, as though she expected him to say something more, some kind of explanation. The seconds felt longer than they were.
She chuckled slightly. “I have no idea what kind of dope you’re on, but you’re even crazier than you look if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I don’t even know you. And like I said, you’re as much a threat to me as any demon.”
“It’s not something any of us wants, but you’re in danger. The demon knew you could see it, and you fought it off—apparently, enough to make it bleed. What do you think, it’s just going to accept defeat? No, it’s going to be back, Nat. And it’s going to be alone. I don’t want you to have to face that—”
“Why? I faced this one well enough without your help. I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t,” he growled, even from the way she spoke, he could tell she was trying to convince herself. “You’re human, and no matter how strong you are, you’re weak!”
“If you’re going to come to my house and insult me over and over, then I’ll ask you for the last time to leave.” And there was enough fury in her eyes to know that this time she meant it.
So Axle did the only thing he could do. The right thing.
He rose to his feet and opened the door. Then he picked her up, flung her over his shoulders, and carried her away. She wriggled and tried to fight him off, but he was too strong for her. In fact, he smiled at her efforts. He could hardly feel her blows. It was a wonder how she managed to fight a whole demon.
“You’ll only exhaust yourself, woman. You’ll need your strength.”
“I need to be on my own two feet!” She yelled, hit, and clawed at his shoulders and back, like an animal trying to dig a hole out of the ground. If she hadn’t been making so much noise right in his ears, he probably would have found it funny.
“Let me down, Axle! Let me down or I swear to God, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Report me to the police?”
It was a question she couldn’t answer instantly. She stuttered for a few seconds and then she fell mute. She knew that she couldn’t report him to the police, that he was not answerable to any law.
“What do you want from me?” she said softly.
“To keep you safe. Never heard a woman object to that before.”
“I can hardly imagine any woman wanting to be around you.”
“You’d be surprised.”
The rest of the way to his home was quiet. He guessed that she had gotten used to the fact that she was stuck with him and wherever he was taking her to. The street was almost empty, and the few people who had seen her yelling, flung over a strange man’s shoulder, kept to their own business. Even the ones who didn’t were too scared of his resting mean face to intervene.
“This is a crime, you know?”
Axle scoffed. “If you say so.”
The rest of the journey, she was so peaceful that he thought she must have fallen asleep on his shoulder. He could only tell by her deep sigh later on that she was still awake. Twenty minutes later, they were in front of his building. It was a drive on his motorcycle that could have taken less time if he hadn’t had the extra weight on him, but there was no way she would have followed him willingly.
He pushed the door open and set her down once they were inside, then he locked the door behind them.
“What kind of careless maniac leaves his home without locking his doors?”
“The kind that no one would dare steal from.”
Now, she took her time gazing around the inside of his large building. He could see the admiration in her eyes. It was the same look he saw in the eyes of everyone who had the chance to see the inside of his home—which was not a lot of people.
“Take your time,” he said smugly.
She rolled her eyes at him and muttered, “You have surprisingly good taste.” Her eyes remained on a French portrait of a nude woman holding two paintbrushes over her shoulder, blue and red paint dripping down to her hip.
