Chapter 11
Chapter 11
D ave’s lips quirked. Sully looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Hey, good morning,” he said, his voice husky as he started to sit up.
“No!” Sully said, her hand flashing up in that universal stop signal.
He froze. “What?” He glanced about, narrowing his eyes against the soft morning light. He couldn’t see any threat. He looked back at her, bewildered. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh, you might want to cover up,” she whispered, gesturing in the general direction of his groin while keeping her gaze on the ceiling. Except for when she peeked at him. Twice.
His lips curved into a smile as he sat up. He didn’t touch the sheet. Not that he was in any danger of losing it. His body had apparently recognized Sully before his brain kicked in, and his hard-on had hooked the sheet.
And then he realized she was wearing the same clothes he’d kissed her in. That loose billowy top with the strapless bra underneath. His eyebrows rose. “Are you just getting in?” He’d tiptoed in last night, thinking she was asleep down the hall in her bedroom.
Sully nodded as she glanced toward the end of the hall, then back at him. “Yeah. I couldn’t just sit here, last night, so I went into the factory.”
“The factory,” he repeated, then frowned. “Your factory near town? With the lousy locks?”
She nodded. “Yep, that would be the one.” Her gaze dropped to the sheet, and her cheeks grew rosy.
The room was gradually getting lighter, as the sun climbed higher, glinting through the bay windows, and he had to narrow his eyes against the glare.
“Sully, that could have been dangerous,” he told her as he reached for his sunglasses.
She folded her arms, her flip-flops dangling from one hand. “You can’t have it both ways, Dave. If it was too dangerous for me to go with you to Amanda’s house because the killer may have been there, it should have been fine for me at my factory.”
His lips tightened at her logic as he slid his glasses on. The dimming of the room gave him some relief, but he could still see Sully clearly. Too clearly. She was annoyed. Well, so was he. He’d slept here, knowing that he’d hear anyone entering through the house and could protect her. It was galling to realize he’d been protecting an empty bed.
“Sully, until I catch this guy, anywhere you go—”
She shook her head. “No, let’s put this into perspective. So far, this witch has gone after nulls. I am not a null. There is no link between me and the victims, other than I know them, and in a town this size, so does pretty much everyone else. I’m going to go wherever I want, whenever I want—starting with visiting Jenny after breakfast.”
“The guy kills in your name, Sully. The Ancestors gave me your name .” He rose from the couch, frustration eating at him. He pulled the sheet with him to save embarrassment—not his, hers. Her eyes widened, but to her credit she kept her gaze fastened on his. “You say you only have a minor connection to these people, but we both know that’s not right.”
“You’re right. My connection to these people is not minor. These people...” She gestured toward her front door, to the community beyond, “These people have become my family, my home .” She turned to face him, and her expression was so sad, so frustrated, he took a step toward her before he realized what he was doing. He halted, clutching the sheet to his groin.
“I will do what I can to help them, to protect them,” she said, her shoulders straightening. “So for the record, I will do everything within my power to stop this witch. Don’t even think you can sideline me on this.”
Her gaze had turned fierce, her blue eyes practically snapping fire at him.
This time he took that step, bringing him closer to her, and her gaze dropped to his chest. “Don’t even think I’m going to let you risk your life here doing my job,” he said, his voice low and rough. His job sucked. She had no idea the toll it took on a person, especially a witch, to kill another. It was that one little loophole—and every spell and rule had one. Witches were supposed to honor and protect nature and her creatures. Witches weren’t supposed to harm another, but when they did, his ordained job was to harm them. And it sucked a little at his soul, each and every time.
She had to drag her gaze up from his chest, and he saw the moment his words sank in. Her eyes narrowed, and his chin jutted forward as he waited for her response, a response he could just see was going to be fiery.
“I am not about to let another man dictate what I can and can’t do,” she said, her voice sounding like it was pulled tight over sandpaper, all husky and coarse. “If you ever again tell me to sit and stay like a good dog, I will show you just how much of a bitch I can be.”
He blinked. There was so much to unpack from those remarks, he was trying to figure out what to address first. Okay, the dog comment definitely had to be straightened out. He was horrified that’s how she’d perceived his remarks, that he’d made a woman feel like that. “I’m sorry, Sully, I never meant to treat you, or make you feel like a—”
She smiled tightly. “I know you didn’t, but when you command a strong, capable witch to stay at home and out of trouble, how do you expect it to sound?” She folded her arms, and he saw her breasts swell against the material of her top. He adjusted the sheet in front of him. They were having a serious conversation, for Pete’s sake. He wasn’t supposed to be distracted by her body.
Her gaze dropped to track his movement with the sheet, and a blush crept over her cheeks. So, he wasn’t the only one battling distraction. Good to know.
She cleared her throat. “Would you have said it to me, if I was male?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately. “Gender has nothing to do with this. If you were male or female, and I thought you were in danger from this witch, I would say the same thing—which is, let me handle this,” he emphasized, leaning forward to meet her gaze. “If you’re a witch, or a vamp or a shifter, this witch is capable of performing magic of some sort around a null. I’ve never seen that before—I didn’t even know it was possible. We have no idea what this witch is capable of. We do know that he’s killed two women as well as a strong, physically fit and capable man, so yes, guy or chick, I’m saying steer clear for your own safety.”
He raised his hand to tuck a tendril behind her ear—and pift , there was that zing, that little clap of power that always happened between them, that awakened his senses on a cellular level, that heightened his awareness and made him feel like he was surrounded by a field of electricity with her. “Your safety is very, very important to me,” he told her in a low voice.
Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth, and her own mouth opened. She pressed her lips together. Swallowed. “It’s just as well you’re being sincere. A bit of a douche, but a sincere douche.”
He smiled. “I’ve been called worse.”
Sully nodded, then her gaze drifted down. He was tempted to lose the sheet, to sweep her up in his arms, step back to that damn sofa and make these sparks between them fly.
Sully gaped at him, then snapped her mouth shut. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Shower. Me.” She was looking at him. All of him. And there was a desire, a hunger in her eyes that was so naked, so blatant, he so damn wanted to reach for her then and there and finish what they’d started the night before.
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”
Her cheeks got rosier, and she shook her head. Just a little nervous shake. “I mean, I’m going to take a shower.” She hurried down the hall, and Dave smiled.
“Pity.”
Sully pulled up in front of Jenny’s drive, and glanced over at Dave. He’d opted to travel with her this time, instead of riding his motorbike. She wasn’t sure if it was for the sake of convenience—they were both going to the same place, so it made sense—or whether it was to keep an eye on her.
Protect her.
She swallowed. She’d spent way too much time in the shower this morning, thinking about Dave and that sheet. Or rather, Dave without the sheet. Even now her cheeks heated with the images that had flashed through her mind as she’d washed away the sweat and grime from her night in the factory. His golden skin, those markings that followed the line of his sculpted muscles, those amazing silver-gray eyes.
The man was gorgeous. He oozed a dangerous sensuality that seemed to bypass any of her personal controls and call to something deep inside her, something she thought she’d gained control over.
She’d wanted him to join her in the shower. Heck, she’d wanted to join him on that sofa, just like she sensed he wanted. She couldn’t remember ever having such an intense physical reaction to a man. Sure, things with Marty had been physical—way too physical, especially toward the end. She thought she was past all that, or at least wary of it, with a logical desire to steer clear of that kind of allure. Dave, though, was...more. More man. More muscle. More presence. More power. She should be running in the opposite direction, especially when he got his alpha witch on and demanded she stand down.
When he’d touched her, she’d sensed him—again. She couldn’t mistake his need to protect her, and it was so genuine, so sincere, it touched her. He was frustrated, and he was worried—for her. She couldn’t sense any darkness to his need to protect her. It was pure, it was light and it was so damn seductive, she’d wanted to jump into his arms and give him what they both wanted. Whatever that may be.
Which, in turn, annoyed her. She’d spent the past four years proving to herself she didn’t need to be with a man... She didn’t need permission, she didn’t need approval, or assistance, or support, or any little tie that would anchor her to a guy. No. She’d learned she was more than capable of standing on her own two feet, of paying her own bills, of developing her own business, honing her craft—establishing her own damn identity.
She didn’t need to be told where she could and couldn’t go, who she could and couldn’t see, what she could and couldn’t wear, and what she could and couldn’t think, feel, say, do.
There was something about Dave, though, something that snagged at her, drew her in. She had to shut that crap down right now. Before she got sucked into another nightmare.
Sully turned her head to eye him. He looked deep in thought, staring through the windshield. He’d showered after she had—which involved more fantasizing on her part about his naked body under the stream of hot water. Steam. Soap suds. Muscles.
She cleared her throat, and he turned to look at her, his eyes shielded by the dark lenses of his sunglasses. He was wearing a navy T-shirt, and she could see one of his markings peeking out from beneath the edge of his sleeve. Name, not marking, she corrected herself. The name of a witch he’d killed.
See, just that thought should give her chills. She’d been on the receiving end of his murderous intent, after all. Yet, it didn’t. She’d seen him in action, seen his ruthlessness, his power turned on another—her—along with a physical dominance that should have her ducking for cover. But...it didn’t. Why was that? What was it about this guy that made her ignore all her safeguards, all those red flags she’d warned herself to watch out for and steer away from?
“You might want to let me do the talking,” she said to him. He’d told her the conversation he’d had with Jacob. She was mildly surprised the nice, friendly guy she knew had so abruptly shut Dave down, but she was beginning to find out a lot of mild surprises from the people she thought she’d gotten to know so well.
Dave’s lips tightened, but he nodded. He didn’t like it, she could tell, but, well, what could he do about it? Nulls didn’t like outsiders. It was only because she’d been able to make teas and ointments that made them feel better that they had welcomed her in, initially. And Dave—well, Dave didn’t look like the tea-drinking type, let alone the tea-making type.
They got out of the car, and Sully squinted against the bright sunlight as she closed her car door. She wore a loose cotton top with thin straps, and the sun beat down on her bare shoulders. Today was going to be a hot one.
She slid the strap of her tote up her arm to her shoulder as she waited for Dave to walk around the car, and they crossed the street together. They were walking up the garden path to Jenny’s cottage front door when they heard the scream.