Dante

  "Are you fucking insane?" He shook her, but she was frozen, her delicate hands clutching his arms. She still wasn't steady on her feet, though, it wouldn't have mattered since he was lifting her off the ground. Her feet barely even touched the ground. "Do you have a goddamn death wish?"

  She q answer him. His intense expression was probably mixed with the sudden drop in her adrenaline. He was sure this was what caused her eyes to brim with tears she seemed to work to keep down.

  The sight of her soft gaze on his, filled with worry and hurt, gave him pause. He immediately realized where he was and what he was doing. Who he was threatening. Even if he was doing it out of fear for her safety.

  He could see himself in her worried eyes, his own vivid blue eyes and obsidian form mirrored in hers.

  His expression softened before settling into a familiar numbness. Not the rage he'd just displayed.

  He slowly let her feet touch ground again when he was certain she would stand on her own, and he fought back a thousand racing thoughts. There was no time to process his guilt and self-hatred.

  He'd eliminated the threat at hand but that didn't mean they were safe. Out in the open, he felt extremely exposed. He wanted to pick Evanora up, encase her in bubble wrap, and take her to the furthest deepest place that wasn't here. Somewhere she wouldn't be out of his fucking sight.

  Where he could watch over her, protect her. Kill anything that found them and dared to take her from him.

  Even her family.

  Especially her family.

  He closed his eyes for a moment to try and rid himself of the demon essence. To soothe it. Or maybe reason with it.

  He'd taken a few steps away from her in hopes distance would help, but it only made his demon nature boil over with anger again.

  She was reckless.

  She was clumsy.

  She was–

  "I'm going to be sick." He heard her gag before trying to violently dry heave what little dinner he'd watched her eat earlier.

  He opened his eyes to see her on her knees near the fence, trying to hold her long, coily black hair out of her face while she tried to throw up. Or rather failing to vomit. Her body trembled slightly after she'd stopped her dry heaving and sat back on her feet. It looked as if she were trying to compose herself, just as he was.

  He looked down at the bullet hole in his shoulder, ignoring the searing pain of its lodged iron along with his other wounds that slowly mended themselves, and let out a long frustrated but understanding sigh.

  She was impulsive, but she was brave.

  And most importantly, he'd decided against his better judgment:

  She was going to be his.

  "Eva." She stiffened at the sound of her name though his tone had not been harsh.

  And he hated himself. He'd scared her.

  He'd been out of options, nearly out of weapons, and terrified.

  Not for that goddamned necklace. But for the damned girl. Terrified the Serpaxos would snatch her life right in front of him. So, he'd let his demon take temporary hold, not even fully, and he'd lost control so easily. Too easily.

  She had finally seen why she should be afraid of him.

  And she was terrified. A piece of him shattered with that thought.

  "Thank you." He came to stand next to her and she looked up at him, probably confused by the softness in his voice. "For the help."

  "Really?" She eyed him and he nearly got lost in her brown eyes.

  "No." He smiled with a chuckle. His original gratitude hadn't been sarcasm, but she didn't need to know that. "You shot me."

  "I know." She grimaced as he helped her to her feet. She hadn't hesitated to take his hand, even though it was still large and onyx, and it took all he had to release her hand. "My bad. But I know I hit it at least twice."

  "Yes." He nodded. "And me. So… zero points for Gryffindor."

  Her gorgeous brown eyes danced with delight at his basic knowledge of one of the box sets he'd noticed on her tiny bookshelf; though she kept the comment he could see working in her mind to herself. He wished she wouldn't. Suddenly he wished nothing remained unspoken between them.

  With her brows furrowed and a tender bite to her lip, her gaze fell to his shoulder, and he wanted to wipe away her concern.

  He'd had worse. He would live.

  She reached her hand out to touch the wound, her body rising on her toes with their new height difference.

  He took a step away from her.

  Even though every fiber of his being wanted to screw the rules and just screw . Maybe not right there next to the Serpaxos carcass, but the building behind them was private enough. Even its lack of walls or windows wouldn't have mattered. He wanted to hear his name moaning from her gorgeous mouth so loudly all the tormented souls in Treachery could hear.

  So, no. He couldn't let her delicate fingertips touch him again. Not in this heightened state.

  She needed to keep her temptress self far, far away from him.

  "There's no time," he told her when she'd arched a curious brow at his step away. "We're too exposed. We need to find the others."

  Yes. Where Keeper eyes could hold him accountable, though he wasn't sure that would even stop him from devouring every inch of her.

  "Come on." She huffed out, motioning for him to follow her around the building.

  Once there, he realized why she hadn't left and he crushed the lock with his bare hands, stealing a bit more demon strength to let them out.

  He'd already shifted back to his fleshbag body so he wouldn't look out of place while they made their way through the city streets. She had tried to give him privacy, but the look of amazement in her eyes returned every time she’d steal a glance at him.

  Again, she had that look on her face when she was holding back from blurting out questions, and he wondered if she didn't because she was afraid he'd snap at her like before.

  He knew the way back to her apartment and he began a light jog for her benefit. It would have been easier for him at full run or to even just toss her over his shoulder, but he was being courteous.

  Courteous? Is that what she made him?

  They took the alleyways, despite Dante wanting a more open street but they looked like hell. He could hear sirens close by but couldn't pinpoint the area. He was certain if anyone spotted Eva's grimy body running at nearly nineish with a 6"7 male who was scraped, goopy, and shot, jogging after her, they'd assume the worst. And he'd have to kill them.

  "Can't you just teleport us?” She huffed out of breath, ceasing his thoughts of murdering any cop who'd threaten to hurt or even attempted to protect her.

  "Jump us from building to building? Like Superman?" She chuckled and immediately asked, "Aliens aren't really real, are they?"

  He couldn't help but chuckle at her thought process and tried joking with her. "I don't know, who am I? The government?" He shook his head and when she was silent again, he tried his best to explain. "That's not how it works. It's not that simple."

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  When she stopped, needing a break, he did the same to let her rest. She placed her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her unspoken question of “why” was loud in their silence. Well, his silence and her ragged breathing as her face twisted up at him with the cute confused 'what the fuck' expression he enjoyed causing.

  "Before, on the roof, it's more like bending my body through air." He peered from behind the two buildings they were sandwiched between and searched the sidewalk for pedestrians or cars. "Like gliding, sort of. I can't just jump over buildings in a single leap. Not in this realm.”

  The street wasn't busy, but he could see a couple of cars nearing, so he waited for them to pass their crevice, along with the group of people he'd watched heading further away from them and around the block's corner.

  Even though he and Eva were headed in the opposite direction he didn't want to take any chances the group would see them.

  When the street was empty enough, he motioned for her to follow. "Not much farther."

  "Easy for you to say," she grumbled under her ragged breath. "Can the others–"

  They dashed across the street quickly and quietly. He'd hoped she'd finally recognize her surroundings and when her stride quickened, he realized she had found her landmarks. All thoughts of demon abilities ceased when she knew they were so close to home.

  Her building was just around the corner and when they finally reached the street, he stopped her from sprinting to the lobby door across from them.

  At the far corner, he'd seen a cop car cruising, making its lap on her street. After it passed, he took her hand and pulled her to the back garden entrance, up the elevator, and to her apartment.

  Once behind closed doors, he knew she felt a bit safer with the way her shoulders slumped as she trudged to the living room. Before she could mindlessly flop down on her couch, Dante reminded her of her griminess. The once-moist slime was beginning to crust as it dried in their clothes.

  She sighed with a complaint about how she was going to have the hardest time cleaning her outfit. He wanted to tell her that green blood was a son of a bitch to remove and she'd be better off burning them, but knew she'd figure it out sooner or later.

  Instead, she made her way to the kitchen and slumped to the floor, resting against the cool tile, and tried to catch her breath. He didn't blame her. She'd been through hell.

  She'd fought harder than he knew she could. He was… proud of her.

  He followed her and pulled out a chair from her small kitchen table. The old wood creaked from his weight but he dared it to defy his respite.

  After peeling his shirt over his head, ignoring as her breathing hitched at the sight of him, he started taking inventory of all his wounds. The bullet in his shoulder and the Serpaxos tooth in the back of his other arm were the worst of it. The others were already healing. Blood trickled onto the tile as he pulled the tooth out of his arm.

  "Thank you,” she mumbled, rolling onto her back in what appeared to be a pain-filled motion with her grimace. "For not doing that on the carpet. I'd like to get my deposit back one day."

  He chuckled, liking that even though he could tell she was in pain, she hadn't lost her humor.

  To stop the bleeding, he grabbed his shirt, placing it against the gash, and she snapped at him like a mother would a toddler.

  "No, are you kidding me? That's filthy." Despite her pain and his protest, she pushed herself from the floor to grab him some napkins. "Here, apply pressure. I'll be back."

  After leaving the kitchen for her bathroom, he thought she'd left him to shower, but she came back moments later shoeless and carrying a first aid box. Under her arm were more towels that were white and easily bleachable.

  She sat the box on the table next to him and, instead of resuming her resting position, came back to stand in front of him. Incredibly close. So close his knee nearly brushed the front of her legs.

  Her hand tentatively reached out again to touch the wound she’d caused, and he watched as it hesitated. Dante looked up to see her curious eyes searching his face. She seemed to be waiting for permission to touch him this time, and even though her being this close warmed something desperate in the pit of his stomach, he leaned into her space in response to grant her access.

  When her chilled fingertips met his shoulder, they were nearly an inch off of the wound, but his body still gave a slight involuntary jolt. It was from the staticky contact on his sensitive skin after the shift and she yanked her hand back.

  He'd never stopped watching her face and could see she thought she'd hurt him again. A smile tugged at his lips while his hand reached out to take hers. Another quiet gasp escaped her at the contact.

  Her wrist was so small in his hands, and he realized at that moment just how fragile she was, so… breakable. He swore to himself he'd be gentle with her.

  Well, as gentle as possible. As gentle as she needed… wanted.

  He was very aware of the electricity pulsing between them. It was thick and suffocating, and all he wanted to do was take her right there on the kitchen floor. He wanted to feel himself buried inside her with his body still so sensitive.

  Their legs still just barely brushed, but if she were any closer, she'd nearly straddle him. His pants grew incredibly tight with that thought. He was sure she'd noticed with the way her breathing hitched, eyes flicking down at his lap before locking onto his again.

  He searched her face for any sign she was still afraid of him but also for any invitation she might give. Any green light for them to give into their body's primal needs. For her gorgeous brown eyes to drop to his mouth, or her body to lean closer into his, inviting him into her space.

  Any-fucking-thing to ease this torture she was inflicting on not just his arousal but, he didn't even want to attempt to think with the way it was pounding in his chest, maybe… his heart?

  There. It was there. He saw it.

  A seductive grin spread across his lips. She'd bitten her bottom lip gingerly, in that unintentionally seductive way she did, while her eyes flicked to his mouth for just a moment. But it was there. He saw it.

  The forbidden submission he craved.

  His hand tightened gently around her wrist and began to pull her into him easily until her palms were on his chest. She watched with awe at the wide, toothy smile he gave, and he loved how freely her body began to melt into his, her legs finally parting over his knee.

  He refused to stop now, not when he'd pulled her down so close she used both hands to steady herself against his chest. Not when he could feel the heat between her leg against his thigh. He moved that leg ever so slightly so she rested against it, too; he wanted to feel all of her.

  When his free palm went to cup her face, his thumb gingerly caressed a fresh scrap there on her cheek. It was one he knew came from his clumsy fall and he wanted to apologize but couldn't form the words. In this moment, he felt completely frozen and content with just breathing the same air she did.

  She looked down at his hand that cupped hers over his heart, and he hoped she could feel that it beat rapidly for her.

  Not wanting her eyes anywhere but locked onto his, he brushed his hand further behind her neck, gently caressing her scar with his fingertips as he did.

  Instantly, he felt her stiffen. She nearly pulled away, but his hand was behind her neck just as quickly, gently but firmly keeping her in place.

  Not once did his gaze move towards her biggest insecurity. They never left her eyes that now met everywhere but his own.

  Sliding his hand into the soft coils at the nape of her neck, he positioned her face in a way that made her eyes meet his again. And he was able to smile again, knowing he could get lost in her pools of deep honey.

  "Look at me." His command was barely above a whisper and her long lashes fluttered when his breath caressed her face. "You. Are. Perfect.”

  His fingers tightened in the nape of her hair and her breathing hitched when he pulled her head back gently. He moved her where he could lean in and brush his lips against her scars in the gentlest, softest kiss he could manage, just below her ear.

  Her body trembled with shaky breaths at his mouth on her and he enjoyed her body's natural reaction to his. Especially when it ground her warmth against his leg and placed her supple breast against his body.

  With every slow kiss, he trailed down the side of her neck, her back arched, and her legs trembled against the one she sat perched upon. The hand in her hair worked to keep her close while he made the slow descent.

  The hand holding hers hated to leave its position, but he craved more of her. So he moved it to her waist, slowly sliding it under her shirt and to the small of her back to keep her straddled on him.

  When he finally let his mouth leave her neck, a needy gasp escaped her rosy parted lips and he could not wait to taste them next. Her head was still firmly in his grasp, naturally submitting to his movements. Her eyes had been shut tight when his mouth was on her, but once he pulled away, they flew open with confusion.

  Hurt only flashed in her eyes for a fraction of a second before the arousal returned, her pupils pulsing with her emotions.

  He'd only meant to pull away briefly, to finally take her mouth in his, but her honey eyes gave him pause.

  That briefest, tiniest moment of hurt. He wanted – no, – to address it.

  He repeated his previous statement, murmuring it into the space nearest her chin, soft and fluttering against her skin. "I. Need. You."

  The next kiss he placed just at the corner of her perfect mouth before pulling back again, making her attention fly back to his. "All of you, gorgeous."

  Her breathing hitched, and just before he could take her mouth before he could finally taste what he craved, the door to her apartment slammed shut, and he heard a single set of footsteps descending upon them.

  "Fuuuck." They both groaned in unison, hers needy and his, aggravated by the interruption.

  She pulled away, scrambling off him, and he reluctantly released her. When her body left his, it felt as if all the warmth of the universe left with her.

  He was… cold, again… alone, again.

  And it felt fucking awful.

  "Evanora!" Monroe frantically shouted her name and Dante loathed the way the worry carried in his voice as he searchingly cried out for her. "Evanora, Eva! Are you here? Oh, God, please?”

  Dante wanted to rip this man's larynx from his throat so he'd never have to hear her name leave it again.

  He looked to Eva to see her reaction to her name being called out with such distress.

  She showed no signs of caring, but her normal, beautiful, bronzy cheeks were the reddest he'd ever seen them. He knew if he reached out like he wanted, they'd be warm to the touch. Not from their brief indiscretion but from embarrassment.

  Though she didn't need to be embarrassed by her body's natural reaction to him. He knew it was more them getting caught than anything he'd done to her.

  This thought alone saved the life of this boy who'd taken the warmest sun from him.

  Finally, the imbecile found them in the kitchen, and relief was only in his features for a brief moment before he quickly surveyed the scene in front of him.

  A heavily tattooed, shirtless Dante was sitting at her table, banged up and still bleeding in places. Evanora was standing, what Dante assumed the boy thought was, far too close to the half-naked halfbreed. Her brown eyes wide like a caught doe and cherub cheeks abnormally rosy for her complexion.

  She looked extremely guilty, and Dante? Well, Dante stared the boy down cooly, never showing just how much he wanted to take a potato peeler to Monroe's accusatory gaze.