Chapter 29
Istared at Bastian, my chest swelling with smug satisfaction. He looked at me with wide eyes, his breaths coming in rapid bursts. I’d never felt so worshiped with that gaze. No one had ever looked at me like this.
“Well,” I managed, running a finger around the edges of my lips like I was fixing lipstick, cleaning up the mess he’d made of me. “So much for your unparalleled control.”
A low, warning growl lifted into the air, setting the hairs of my arms on end, sending shivers of delight down my spine.
I backed up on my knees, unafraid, when I probably should have been.
He tracked the motion, sitting up. I backed up a little further.
He seemed to lean toward me, like a predator tracking prey, like he knew what I intended and was anticipating my movements.
He hadn’t lied. He’d fucked me—thoroughly. My jaw would be sore. But none of that mattered. I ached for him, my arousal slicking my thighs. The orgasm he’d given me had done little to temper this fire. But instead of giving in, I had the sudden urge to see how far I could push him.
In a graceful sweep of motion, I slid off the bed and stood. His movements were inhumanly swift as he followed after me. “Eleanor,” he warned, speaking through clenched teeth. “Where you going, baby girl?”
My pussy fluttered. The question, the way he said it, the animalistic wickedness that simmered beneath his surface unnerved me. This was Bastian at his basest level. If I ran from the room, he’d chase after me. He’d tackle me on the stairs and claim me entirely.
Anticipation and deep longing welled up inside me, all warring together into a potent cocktail of emotion—
A shrill chime fractured the silence. We both froze, our eyes locked. The ringing continued. His phone.
I lifted my eyebrows in question.
“You think I’d let you get away so easily, little female?”
Shivers raced across my skin. My eyes darted over the creature before me. How much was Bastian and how much of him was his goblin? I really wanted to find out.
My tongue darted out, licking my lips and his eyes traced the motion.
The phone stopped and silence followed. Then it rang again.
He growled, annoyance morphing his features as he glanced over at the nightstand.
I used the brief distraction to dart away and slip through the door, closing it behind me before I raced down the stairs, slipped into my room, and locked the door.
I leaned against my door, nearly gasping for breath. I wasn’t entirely sure why I ran. Yes, I liked teasing him. But…it was more than that. What we’d shared—I needed a moment to cool down. To process.
And yet, I also wanted him to claim me. I was ready for it, had been ready since last night, since seeing him race out of the bedroom with a massive sword in hand.
But I was also overwhelmed. The way he’d looked at me after coming, like I was the only woman on the planet for him, like no one had ever given him what I had…
It left my heart swollen to near bursting.
I frowned, listening for any sound from upstairs.
There was nothing but silence now. The phone had stopped ringing—he must have answered it.
As the minutes ticked by without any footsteps on the stairs, my stomach sank.
Whatever that call was about, it had been important enough to pull him away from this.
From us. I caught my lip between my teeth, chewing nervously.
Maybe it was better this way? Maybe we both needed time to think about what had happened between us?
Yes, that was probably for the best. Nodding to myself, I strode across the room and closed myself in the bathroom.
I emerged clean and showered, dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt that I knotted at my belly button, revealing a strip of exposed tummy.
I hesitated, listening. There was activity in the kitchen, so I went there.
Bastian was pouring coffee into a travel mug, capping it off.
He was dressed in his usual attire of dark jeans and a black T-shirt that was tight enough to show every line of his muscular frame. He must have had a hundred of them.
No complaints here.
He turned. His eyes landed on me, sweeping me from head to toe. His pupils dilated, hand tightening around his cup, making his rings more stark against his tattooed fingers. “Gotta head into work, sugar. Need you to stay here and stay put. Don’t leave the house.”
“Oh.” My lips pressed into a tight line.
“There’s coffee and plenty else in the pantry. Toast, oatmeal, or whatever you feel like eating—”
“Is it Luke?” I asked. “Did something happen? The phone call…”
His body tightened. A dark expression crossed over his features at the mention of Luke. “Not quite sure. But I’ll know soon enough. I gotta go.”
Suddenly, my ribs felt too tight for my body, too tight to breathe. Was he keeping something from me? Why did this feel like he was shutting me out? Why, after what we’d shared?
“Right. Okay.”
His brows drew together. He strode over and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close.
My breath hitched, muscles immediately relaxing beneath his touch.
“We’re not done, sugar. Not even a little bit.
This morning? It isn’t over.” Then he kissed me, his mouth hot and coffee flavored.
I groaned, going limp in his arms. His tongue caressed mine, the bite of metal sending sparks straight to the back of my throat.
I was instantly wet again.
He inhaled and pulled away, then pressed his forehead to mine. “Fuck,” he breathed. “I’ll never tire of that scent on you.”
I blew out a breath, my shoulders dropping.
“Gotta go.” He said it like he was reminding himself, not me. Then he gave me a chaste kiss on the lips. “Stay here. I mean it.”
I nodded, gazing after him as he retreated to the garage. His truck revved, followed by the rumble of the garage door, then silence. I took a deep, settling breath.
First things first. Coffee. I went to the coffee maker.
Everything I needed was already sitting out.
The extra large mug I loved, the cream and brown sugar.
It was a thoughtful gesture I hadn’t anticipated.
One that made my eyes suddenly cloud with tears.
Everything I was feeling for this male—it was intense.
A small watery smile crept to my lips. I loved his thoughtfulness.
It caught me off guard at the smallest moments.
I prepared my cup then went to sit at the island, staring at the kitchen, listening to the silence press in around me.
Having this much time on my hands wasn't something I was used to.
My normal routine kept me busy—working at Vortex into the early hours, sleeping away the mornings, filling afternoons with martial arts, drop-in dance classes, or chores.
Books on my e-Reader when time allowed. Then back to work to do it all over again.
Here in Bastian’s house, I felt almost…lost.
His downstairs gym was great, but it wasn’t the same as attending classes downtown. Perhaps I could do a little dancing downstairs too, work on my flexibility. But it still wasn’t the same as dropping in for a class.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly.
There was also the matter of my apartment.
Days had passed with everything sitting in disarray, broken and scattered—just like my life right now.
As nice as Bastian's house was, nothing compared to my own things, my comfort, the freedom to come and go as I pleased.The little slice of paradise I’d made for myself.
My bedroom with its neon pastels, beautiful art, and creature comforts.
Several gulps of coffee later, I sighed.
Salted caramel. Regular coffee would never cut it again—once I moved back home, whenever that would be, an entire case of this brand was going on my shopping list. A small laugh escaped me.
Bastian was such a coffee snob. And a wine snob.
He was so many things I hadn’t expected, just looking at him.
The more I got to know him the better I liked him.
The kind of like that was becoming dangerous.
Because I knew he wasn’t one for attachment, and if I let my heart latch on… this was going to become problematic.
I spent the entire day keeping busy, if only to stay out of my head. I checked my phone. I went downstairs to work out. Checked my phone again. Did some laundry and tidied whatever I could, mostly to avoid the fact that there was no word from Bastian. Then I settled in to read.
It was early evening. Teddy was curled on my lap, soundly sleeping, when the rumble of the garage announced Bastian’s return. My heart hitched. I glanced down at myself, then back at my e-reader.
A door slammed. “Eleanor?”
“In here.” My eyes fixed on the living room doorway.
He appeared. A sigh whooshed out of me as I checked him over. No blood today, but his expression was tight, his lips pinched. His shoulders relaxed a measure at the sight of me and I liked that, perhaps too much.
“Still here,” I teased. “I didn’t go anywhere, just like you asked.”
He gave a jerk of a nod, then crossed the room and poured a drink, coming to sit at the couch. He swirled it, staring into it, but didn’t lift it to his lips. My stomach hardened. “Long day at the office?”
“You could say that.” He knocked it back, then leaned back against the couch. His muscles were rigid. “This cannot continue. It needs to end.”
A sour taste filled my mouth. “End?”
“Yes. It’s gone on long enough. We need to get this piece of shit. Quickly.”
“Oh.” I set my e-reader aside and buried my fingers in Teddy’s fur. It didn’t stop their relieved trembling. “Right.”
He cocked his head to the side. The corner of his mouth twitched.
“What’d you think I meant, sugar?” I didn’t answer.
“Ah. You thought I was talking about us. You and me.” Still, I didn’t answer.
“No, there’s no end for that—not at this point.
” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t been able to escape the smell of you burned into my nostrils, the memory and taste of you on my tongue.
My fucking cock has never ached so much.
You’ve kept me in a constant state of frustration.
If I don’t pin you to the wall and fuck you soon, I’m going to lose my shit. ”
My lips parted. No one had every talked to me like this. This…dirty. This direct.
“I warned you, Eleanor,” he said, voice dropping low. I couldn’t tell if he was frustrated. It sounded like he was. “I warned you what would happen.” There was a flicker as his glamor wavered, like he was fighting it. Fighting for control.
If he wanted me this badly, why was he holding back?
He groaned and shook his head. The tension in the room evaporated with that one sound. Setting his empty glass on the wooden tray, he crossed his arms and leaned back to regard me. “A handful of days—that’s all it took.”
“For what?”
“It’s time for you to call Eaden,” he said, side stepping my question.
“Get yourself on the schedule. You’re working every night for the foreseeable future until I can get my hands on Luke fucking Portman.
We can go by your apartment tomorrow, clean things up.
The sooner you’re back at Vortex, pretending everything is normal, the easier it will be for me to catch him. ”
I went rigid. The whiplash had my mouth opening and closing. “You really want to use me as bait? You weren’t kidding?”
“I wasn’t. If Eaden has a problem, he can come to me. Get yourself on the schedule.”
I swallowed. “This is your plan, then? I don’t have a choice?”
“The mayor is severely wounded. He’s in critical condition. Might not pull through.”
I froze. “What?”
“Someone tried to murder him.”
My eyes widened. “What?!”
“There’s no proof that it was Luke, but…” He blew out a breath. “I don’t think it was a coincidence, do you?”
“But… Luke’s using the harp to put people to sleep, not to murder the mayor.”
“And yet, he was capable of killing Professor Miller and your neighbor. Presumably, so that he could get his hands on the harp in the first place. And then we have the sleepers. Some of whom were seen at the mayor’s gala the other day.
They were used to kill a number of people.
How do you think the mayor was handled?”
“I…” I pressed my fingers into my eyes, then rubbed at my temples, trying to make sense of this mess.
“Luke might be too weak to kill supernaturals, being human and all, but he can certainly use other supernaturals to kill for him.”
“How… How many has he used the harp on?”
“Hard to say. From the intel I’ve gathered, he’s got at least twenty people under his control now?” I made a choking sound. “This has to end, Eleanor.”
“But…” My hands started to shake as my pulse thundered in my ears. I knew what Luke was capable of. I’d suffered through it firsthand. Now he didn’t just have his fists. He had powerful supernaturals under his control. The thought of Bastian facing that—facing him…
“If you go after him, Bastian, he’ll use it on you. You can’t.”
“I can, Eleanor. I’m decided on the matter. Now, go call Eaden. Please.” He used the last word like an afterthought, to placate me.
I struggled to make my limbs move. I hated the truth, but Bastian was right.
If this was Luke, he needed to be stopped.
And no matter who went against him, there was risk.
Maybe Bastian was the best person for the job—more equipped than most. So…
why did I feel a crippling sense of dread at the thought?