Dante

  She took another surprised step back. "I'm sorry, what?"

  "You heard me." He reached for her hands only to have her tuck them further under her arms with a refusal that he cocked his head at. "No?"

  "I don't… want to hurt you?" She finally sighed, and he chuckled at her underestimation and concern for his well-being. It was something that he wasn't used to.

  "You have a better chance of that with a gun." He smirked down at her. "And I'm not giving you a gun. Now."

  He reached for her hands again and when she gave them slowly but freely, he balled them into fists and used her arms to place them in front of her face. He moved behind her, closer than he needed to be for this lesson, but he never claimed he was a saint. He hesitated before taking her waist and she tensed when he'd touched her.

  "Relax." He murmured close to her ear and she nearly melted in his grasp, causing him to chuckle again while holding her up. "Not that relaxed, Eva."

  She mumbled an apology and he kept to himself how she needed to apologize for submitting to him.

  He moved her waist and, using his foot, gently kicked her legs into a proper stance. When she was ready he released her, loving her tiny release of air as if she'd been holding her breath while he touched her.

  Honestly, he'd been doing the same. She smelled amazing and the black athletic leggings she wore made it hard not to look at her perfect ass. He'd also noticed a pattern in color choices. The dark greens she chose looked amazing against her warm skin. The shirt she wore had long sleeves but stopped just at her waist, showing off her assets. He realized she wasn't uncomfortable with her figure; she was gorgeous, curvy, and soft in all the right places. No, she was insecure about what she thought was a deformity, but it was what actually made her stand out in the world. Fuck what everyone else thought.

  "Okay.” He came to stand in front of her again and placed his palms up as targets. "Now. Hit me."

  She stared between his face and his hands for a moment. Her face moved in concentration before she struck out with her dominant hand. The left. He swatted at her hand, easily blocking her and earning a confused expression, though not the one he liked.

  She tried again, the same hand. Instead of swatting at it, he noticed she'd put more effort into her swing. He dodged it and she stumbled by him. He'd snuck his foot out to trip her, but before she could fall face first, he caught her arm to steady her.

  With a huff, she got back in her stance, and he realized she wasn't learning the lesson.

  This time, before she even attempted to strike out, he noted the couch behind her and placed an index finger to her forehead, giving a little push. Stumbling over her feet, she fell back on her ass easily and with a huff. Finally, she graced him with the 'what the fuck' expression he liked.

  While he crouched down to her level, he watched the confusion settle on her face. "You cannot win a fistfight against a demon, Evanora. Ever."

  He stood and lent her his hand.

  "Then what do you suggest I do?" She huffed taking the assistance. “Because they aren't giving me much to work with.”

  He pulled her to her feet easily, placing a hand on her lower back to steady her when she stumbled into his body. "If confronted again? You. Run." He watched her eyes narrow and then soften with his next words. "You're no good to me dead."

  "To… you?" Her cognac eyes ached his heart in a way that confused him and he hoped she couldn't feel its rapid pace underneath her palms. Her breathing had hitched with her question, and it took all his willpower to release her. The warmth of her body in his cold hands was an unexpected comfort from the tolls of the day.

  "Don't read into it, sweetheart." A smirk spread across his face, while he ignored both her mumbled dislike for that term and the ache that grew with each step he took from her comfort.

  He walked over to relax on one of the couches, shutting his eyes to rest and soothe his headache but not to sleep. Exhaustion was finally coming to claim him after the long day.

  The couch creaked softly as she sat across from him and he'd hoped sleep would take her, but her anxiety won the battle instead. Her foot tapped rapidly, leg bouncing against the brown couch fabric with soft swooshes.

  Sighing, she stood again and resumed the pacing he'd walked in on.

  “Why don't you try to get some sleep, hmm?" His eyes remained closed, tone light despite his slight agitation.

  She hesitated before replying with a quiet “cant”.

  "I'm here now,” he said softly, looking over at her in an attempt to offer comfort. "Look at me, you are safe. Your family is safe. Rest."

  She stood there a moment more before he resumed resting his eyes. Finally, she went back to the couch, though why she didn't take a cot in the back, he wasn't sure. As long as she was resting.

  The entire space was set up like one would a survival bunker.

  Beyond the main area, three cots sat behind the two couches he and Eva occupied.

  Across the cots stood a large bookshelf filled with both literature and Keeper books.

  Above the books, a few boxes sat on top with their elemental symbols etched onto them.

  With most of the Keeper items concentrated in this room, he assumed the door between the shelf and cots led to a closet storing potions, herbs, and weapons.

  Beyond the stairs, a small kitchen space was tucked away, featuring a wood stove in one corner near two doors.

  One door likely concealed food supplies, though the purpose of the other door remained unclear. Possibly a bathroom, since none was visible elsewhere.

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  Interestingly, this layout was nearly identical to their previous bunker, leading him to wonder if The Society was stupid enough to make all bunkers standard.

  They lay there a while with him, listening to her even breathing, just as he'd done the night before.

  His calm facade hid his intense awareness. He knew she hadn't fallen asleep, but at least she seemed to be trying.

  The dark circles under her eyes had caught his attention earlier when he'd pulled her close.

  After a moment, she shifted on the couch quietly, and he kept his breathing steady, eyes still closed.

  This movement wasn't typical of her sleep patterns. It was almost silent, as if intentional.

  He nearly chalked it up to her long limbs being uncomfortable on the short couch, like his own, but this sounded deliberate.

  She slowly slipped off the couch as quietly as possible, and his curiosity spiked.

  He wondered if she assumed he was asleep, given his relaxed appearance.

  When she stood, her breathing paused, a clear sign she was trying to sneak around.

  His instinct was to smile at her stealth attempt, but he focused on her actions instead.

  He thought maybe she was leaving to head upstairs, seeking comfort in her own bed. But her light footsteps weren't heading towards the stairs. She was heading towards the cot, no, the bookshelf across from the cots. And the door between them.

  He heard when she tried to twist the knob, only to give a quiet sigh before her fingers brushed over some of the books.

  "I can help you with that."

  He'd matched her stealth, though, actually being stealthy. She gave a little yelp at his sudden appearance behind her.

  "You don't have to sneak around me," he told her softly. "Have I been anything but transparent?"

  Her face dropped with her apology, and he asked what she'd been looking for.

  "I don't know, honestly. Simon said there was Keeper stuff in there." She bit her lip tenderly. “Something that will tell me more maybe? Monroe said something about a doctrine?"

  Dante shook his head at that. "You don't need Keeper propaganda."

  He stepped beside her and scanned the shelves for the book he knew held the key. Her parents' hiding spot wasn't hard to figure out; they'd used the same book when showing him their previous bunker. His fingers trailed over the spines until he found With a gentle nudge, he moved her aside and opened the door.

  Eva's eyes narrowed. "How did you know the key was in there?"

  He relayed his reasoning, and confusion etched itself on her face. "You and my parents used to be that close? What happened?"

  The easy answer was her idiot brother, but that wouldn't be true. After the fire, he knew her parents would need to keep their distance from demons. They were being watched, and that meant no more helping demons, no more making waves.

  He saw shock give way to understanding then a hint of sadness he hadn't meant to cause.

  They stepped into the tiny space and the look of wonder on her face once the room was illuminated did something to his heart he couldn't describe. It wasn't the usual arousal, though thoughts of finishing in this closet what they had done in hers, did cross his mind.

  No, this feeling was… indescribable. It made his heart feel heavy. Similar to the way it felt when he thought the Serpaxos would rip her in two or when she'd touched Monroe's hand. But he knew that was more fear and the latter, anger. There was something else there that he couldn't put his finger on.

  He'd never felt… the way he felt… when he saw the honey in her gorgeous eyes sparkle.

  Her gaze flickered around the room before landing on him and when she realized he was watching her again, a sheepish smile formed on her lips.

  Instead of taking her mouth in his, he slipped into the doorway so she could get a better look at everything.

  The artillery was nowhere near what he knew a Reaper would keep in their home, but still, there was an intrigued expression on her face as her hands tentatively reached out to touch a blade on the left wall. There were sigils engraved in the iron, and before her fingers could brush them, she straightened and placed her hands behind her back.

  He held onto his chuckle as he thought she may have been told to look with her eyes and not her hands as a child. The same statement his mother would tell him when they'd go to market.

  In the same area, but on lower shelves, there were silver stakes, large stellite hammers, and a row of guns. In boxes beneath those he knew would be varying types of bullets. Each weapon had a different symbol etched somewhere into it for either protection or power. Like his, each was equipped with an integrated silencer.

  There were a few shelves with vials filled with varying potions he knew would work on almost any demon or creature who'd enter uninvited.

  The wall to the right held different herbs and first aid. Beneath those shelves were a few books: journals, almanacs, spell guides and books, mystic encyclopedias, and more. The one he was looking for, however, was displayed on top of the bookshelf and was probably one of the oldest versions of Demonic Keeper lore he'd been shown. It didn't have every piece of history but it had enough to get her started. It had been what her parents had shown him when he came asking.

  When he stepped behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back so she wouldn't accidentally move into him, she tensed, and a dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Relax, tesoruccia. I'm not going to ravage you right here in your parents' basement.”

  “That's the second time you've called me that.” When she looked up at him as he reached past her, the curiosity in her eyes nearly made him recant his previous statement of not locking them in and fucking her right there against the door. “It’s… I'm assuming Italian? What does it mean?”

  “Sweetheart.” While he grabbed the book, he watched for her reaction from the corner of his eye. When she bit the inside of her cheek with the faux aggravation he knew his admission would cause, he took another liberty. “Or ‘my treasure’.”

  He smiled at his success when it brought the warmth he loved to see take her cheeks and top lip. As she looked away from him, he wanted so much to caress those cheeks, to feel the warmth of her softness in his hands. To commit every one of her features to his memory.

  But he knew that wasn't the task at hand. For now, she didn't need him making advances and distracting her.

  "Start with this one." He handed her the book he knew to have both Keeper and Demon history. It would explain the Primordials and how they created life on what was once called Neth, the war and near extinction of the human race at the hands of Lilith. How The Society was formed as a defense, and why Kaos created The Great Rift between what was now the Nether and the human realm. Along with some basic information on some of the species in the Nether. Without all the savior propaganda The Society put into their doctrines.

  He'd stolen one from a Keeper's home once and had been disgusted with the way it described most of them in the Nether.

  Not every single Malevolent was evil. He'd met Caster's whose sole purpose was to bring light to both realms. Strigoi and Nightbornes who fought their bodies' natural urges to drain humans dry. Or even Lycan’s who were ashamed of their shift.

  If there were, in fact, Caster’s hidden in the Society at the hands of their elders, he hoped the Caster had risked her life to reveal their hypocrisy.

  Eva took her homework to the couch next to his and debated telling her about the day's events.

  All Keepers were taught alchemy and some admittedly were better than others. Though the Oswalds were notorious for their casts in their world.

  While they'd once been acquaintances, he'd never completely trusted Richard and Aliyah. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that went both ways. The animosity between The Society and the Nether was too intense.

  The disturbing question ran across his mind: whether he trusted Eva. He didn't think she'd purposefully bring him harm. She hadn't even been afraid when she'd seen his true essence. But because of his history with, well, everyone, he had to question her motives.

  But deeper down her attraction to him was palpable.

  And delicious. He'd had virgin before but none that appealed to him as much as she did. He knew there was also the fact she was forbidden fruit. He'd never been with a Keeper before, not that that mattered to him. To them though, they'd probably crucify her to set an example.

  He didn't like the idea of history repeating itself but when she looked at him with such fascination, as if he could do no wrong, it made him want… to be better. For her. To not disappoint her. To tell her everything.

  He'd only ever felt that intimate comfort… with his mother.