Chapter 38
Chapter thirty-eight
Delilah
Letting out a deep sigh, I sank a little further into the tub, the warm water rising all the way to my chin, easing my tired muscles even as the bubbles tickled my nose.
Before me, a wide bay window looked out onto a snowy, tree-covered mountain top, the star-speckled sky and waning moon making the snow sparkle in the darkness.
It was the most hauntingly beautiful landscape I’d ever laid eyes on, and I had no idea where in the world we were.
The moment we had entered the house, I had excused myself and dashed off to one of the bedrooms, desperate for a few moments of quiet. Finding a gorgeous attached bathroom with a clawfoot tub was a bonus I hadn’t been expecting, but one I was absolutely not going to turn down.
I was exhausted, my whole body ached, and my brain would not stop running in circles. Beneath the water, my fingers grazed my neck, alternately stroking the shadow collar that I still wore and the bite mark I couldn’t stop thinking about.
The fact that every time my fingers brushed over the bite mark my nipples tightened and my thighs involuntarily squeezed together was just one more thing I was curious about.
What did it all mean? Our journey through the Void had been chaotic, fraught with danger and revelations that I still had questions about, yet my sole focus was on the pulsing bite mark a demon had left on my skin.
Not to mention the sigil he’d burned into my chest.
The whole thing was insane, and the more I thought about it, the more I hated that I didn’t hate it.
Not even a little bit.
Climbing out of the tub, I reached for the fluffy towel that had been folded neatly on the counter when I’d sequestered myself in the bathroom over an hour ago.
On the counter, Pandora sat, snuggled into a cushy towel nest of her own, snoring softly as she waited for me to finish so that I could feed her.
“Some familiar you are,” I muttered, feeling a smile dance on my lips against my will. “Where were you when the big bad demon was marking me up like a dog with a bone?”
Opening one tiny black eye, Pandora stared at me, then cracked her little mouth open in a huge yawn, showing off her minuscule teeth.
“Oh, please,” I scoffed, shaking my head as she blinked up at me, a very hedgehog-y smirk on her fuzzy little face. “Don’t give me that. Biting is not on my approved foreplay list.”
Even as I said the words I knew they were a lie. Biting had recently moved way, way up that list, and if the fluttering feeling that still burned deep inside my chest was any indication, it was likely going to stay there for a long time.
“Besides,” I countered, securing the towel around my chest—intentionally hiding the oval shaped burn that had healed far too quickly—I grabbed a second from the rack, shaking it out as I talked.
“Just because I may have liked it a little doesn’t mean I’m going to fall for it again.
” Draping the towel over my head, I tried to squeeze out the bath water without creating too much frizz. “The man has absolutely no boundaries.”
Pausing, I stared at my reflection, noting the silvery crescents where Archer had sunk his teeth into my flesh. Already healed and slightly faded, the mark shone in the dim light of the bathroom, the shadow collar seeming to pulse every time it brushed against the mark.
It was strange, but I was beginning to formulate a theory, I just wasn’t ready to say the words out loud yet.
Looking even lower, I could see the curved edge of the sigil burn just peeking out the top of the towel. It, too, was faded, the healed, raised mark now only the palest shade of pink compared to the rest of my skin, but it was there nonetheless.
Staring at it, I considered what I knew about Archer’s sigil mark. The two times I’d seen him use it, it had been to lock people into crossroads contracts. He’d negotiated with them, creating a binding agreement for their very souls.
What did that mean for me? Did Archer own my soul now?
And if he did...did I want it back?
I was startled out of my thoughts by a sharp knock at the door. Stepping out of the bathroom, I gripped the knotted towel tightly and went to open it—even though, thanks to that curious flutter in my chest, I had a pretty good sense of who it was.
“Yes?” I asked, staring at the very man I’d been thinking about only moments before.
And he was staring at me in return.
Archer’s gaze trailed over my body as though he was trying to memorize every curve and dip. I shivered as his eyes roved over my exposed skin, goosebumps popping as he licked his lips absently.
Behind my ribs, my heart kicked up a gear, the pounding beat drowning out my thoughts. In the end, there was nothing left but Archer and the way he made me feel every time he was near.
Excited. Breathless. Exasperated.
And, oh, so very turned on.
Needing something to do with my hands—so I didn’t reach out and haul the infuriating demon into the bedroom—my fingers drifted to the pendant, the familiar feel of it now changed with the addition of the first piece of the Key that hung beside it.
Archer’s gaze moved to my hand, his brow furrowing as he stared, either at the diamond that had caused us all so much trouble, or my cleavage. I couldn’t be sure.
“I brought your things,” he said suddenly, his voice a low rumble that did nothing to stop the way my body reacted to him.
I had thought him handsome before, when he had been wearing his sharp suit and dress shirt, the top few buttons left undone.
But now he stood in his lounge wear, casual and comfortable, and I couldn’t think of anything sexier in the world.
“I thought you might want to burn that dress.”
I smiled. “Thank you for—wait. My things?”
“Of course,” he said, holding up my satchel and backpack, neither of which I’d seen since Trinity Church in New York. “I had them in my Rip. I apologize for not remembering them sooner.”
“I—uh, thank you?” I found myself speechless, completely unable to process the words that had just come out of his mouth. Archer apologizing to me wasn’t something I had ever expected.
“May I come in?” he asked, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he looked a touch embarrassed. “I think we need to talk.”
Talking was the last thing I wanted to do.
Not with him standing there, hair damp as though he’d just showered, his eyes dark and heated.
He held himself tensely, every muscle coiled like he was ready to pounce on me, and I rolled my lips in at the thought.
That buzzing sensation in my chest was so much more acute when he was near.
Like a plucked guitar string, the music of our connection was just for me, alive and throbbing with every breath.
“Right.” Stepping back, I made room for him to enter, trying to take a discreet sniff of him as he passed. He smelled of smoke, rich and vibrant, with the underlying masculine scent that was uniquely Archer.
I loved it.
“I’ll just—” I uttered lamely, reaching for the bag and heading back into the bathroom. “One second.”
Once the door was closed behind me, I pressed my back against it, letting out a deep breath.
“Holy shit, Pandora!” I hissed, lifting a hand to my forehead.
“He’s just so... ugh!” My familiar wiggled her nose at me, her eyes appearing to dance with laughter.
“Stop it.” I admonished. “I don’t need your attitude.
This is neither the time nor the place to be feeling the way I’m feeling.
” Digging in the bag, I pulled out one of the dresses that Heidi had helped me pack, slipping the familiar gray cotton over my head.
Looking in the mirror, I frowned. The dress was my own, but I looked much the same as I had in Persephone’s borrowed clothes, and for the first time in my life, I was disappointed in my appearance.
I had never thought about my body before, not outside the sense of what I could do with it physically, or how it failed me every time I tried to use my magic. I’d never cared about being appealing to someone else, but suddenly, I wished I had different clothes.
A different life, one where I was free to pursue a man I was interested in. Where I knew how to be seductive, to be womanly instead of just quirky. It had always worked for me before, but now I wanted to be more, and I didn’t like that I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror.
As the feeling of inadequacy began to overwhelm me, I heard Archer’s voice on the other side of the door.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his rough voice laced with concern. “Why are you upset?”
How could he have possibly known that I was upset?
Even as I thought the question I realized I knew the answer. Because that guitar string in my chest was suddenly humming with anxiety and concern, and my mouth popped open when I realized that those weren’t my emotions I was feeling, but Archer’s
It was his anxiety. His concern.
What the actual fuck?
Pressing my hand to my chest as though I could touch the foreign emotions that were suddenly living inside me, I tried to sort through the foggy mess that was now swirling through my mind.
Scooping Pandora out of her towel nest, I spun to the door and whipped it open, bubbling with more anger than anything else.
Staring up at the demon who had filled me with a whole host of questions, I started with the most pressing.
“What the fuck did you do?”