It’s not.
She could wrap her body around his.
And have just a taste of his breath during. I could stop. Just a taste…
She’d started to turn the knob when the phone rang. She walked over to the bed and lifted her phone from the night table.
“Eve?” Daniel asked. “How are you?”
She sat on the edge of the mattress. Her hands were shaking. “Daniel? How did you get my number?”
“Come see me, Eve.” He paused just long enough that she could hear hesitance. “I miss you.”
“No.” She closed her eyes, wrapped one hand around the bedpost, and tried to focus. It wasn’t working. Her whole body shook.
“Do you want to talk to Chastity?”
Eavan’s heart thundered loud enough that it roared in her ears, but her voice was whisper-quiet. “What?”
“One of the girls…not the same Chastity. Just another mindless doll…right here in my arms…waiting for a rescue.” He murmured to someone who moaned into the phone. “She’s a co-ed. Well, she was…”
“What are you doing?” Eavan squeezed the bedpost until the wood cracked and cut her palm, stinging as blood slid between her fingers and trickled down the dark wood. “You can’t do this…Let her go.”
“Come see me, Eve. I’ll be at Chaos tonight.” Then he disconnected before she could reply.
Eavan slowly unwrapped her fingers from the splintered wood of her bedpost. A sliver of wood was embedded in her skin. She stared at it as she sat quietly, trying to force her mind to process Daniel’s challenge.
She dialed the only person she could be almost honest with. “Muriel?”
“What’s wrong?”
Eavan explained, and then she waited. There was no judgment, no leash that followed. The vampire said only: “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Get dressed.”
Even though Muriel was too kind to say it, Eavan knew she was making a mistake, but staying here was a mistake, too. Her body was screaming for something. It didn’t matter which urge she fed. Staying near Cillian isn’t an option. She was too tempted before Daniel’s call; now her body was thrumming like something feral.
The delivery guy was still out there. That made it safer to slip out of the room, to walk past him. It was the best opening she could hope for.
Steeling herself, Eavan opened her door and went to take a cold shower. She didn’t look at him, didn’t step nearer him, although she could feel his gaze on her.
After a painfully cold shower, she went back to her room and got dressed.
Cillian was at the bedroom door. He had been for several minutes. “Eavan? Can we talk? Maybe you’re feeling too housebound. We can—”
She opened her window. An alarm went off.
Ten minutes left.
Cillian tried the knob. “Damn it. What are you doing?”
Don’t answer. Just go out the window.
She stood looking at the window and then at the door. He was jimmying the lock.
“How in the hell am I to keep you safe if—” He opened the door. “What are you doing?”
“Stay back. Please?” She looked at him, too close and too kind. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He crossed the room and started to close the window. “If you don’t cooperate, I can’t keep you safe. We’ve talked about this. If it’s the kiss…” Frustration weighed in his voice, his movements, his everything. “It’s okay, Eavan. We can pretend it didn’t happen. People react differently to stress, and…it’s not a big deal.”
Not prey.
He was too close though.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay. I told you that.” Cillian turned to face her. He was not even three steps away.
She stared at his mouth. Just another taste. The tip of her tongue darted out.
He froze, but he didn’t run. “It’s okay.”
She wasn’t sure if he was giving her permission or still forgiving her. It didn’t really matter. She closed the space between them. It was all she could do to speak, but she warned him: “You should run now.”
He didn’t move.
So she kissed him. She had both legs around him, and he walked forward until she felt the wall behind her.
She pushed herself tighter to him. “More.” She pressed her lips back to his, lifted herself up enough that she could reach between them and unbutton his jeans. Her skirt was around her hips, leaving only her underwear between them. She ripped it away; the sound of tearing cloth brought an encouraging sound from Cillian.
They were on the floor. She was straddling him, moments from crossing the line she swore she would not cross.
Better sex than murder.
She pulled away and looked down at him.
I could swallow his final breath as he…
She lowered herself onto him and shuddered. Sex and death, all at once, she could have it all. She licked her lips and leaned forward.
“Eavan!” Suddenly, Muriel was there, pulling her backward. The small vampire was more than a match for Eavan.
Muriel pulled Eavan off Cillian.
Eavan hissed. Muriel slapped her.
Cillian looked dazed. He scrambled to his feet, naked and somehow already aiming a gun at Muriel.
“Get in the car,” Muriel said, or perhaps repeated, if the way she bit off each word was any indication. She stayed like a guard between Cillian and Eavan. “And tell him who I am, Evvie, before he tries to shoot me.”
“Friend,” Eavan forced out. Forming words just then was a trial, but she did it. “Muriel’s a friend. I called her.”
Cillian lowered his gun.
Eavan’s gaze followed the lowering weapon and fell on Cillian’s very beautiful naked, just-out-of-reach body. She tried to step around Muriel. “I’m fine here.”
Muriel sighed. “I’m sorry about this, Mr. Owens, but until she’s thinking clearly, it’s for the best.”
Then she punched him.
8
Eavan had a violent case of the shakes by the time she was a mile away from her apartment. It was a little mortifying to think that Muriel had seen her so out of control with a human, but at least she had been there to stop Eavan.
“I owe you,” she said, not looking at Muriel yet.
“Sweetie,” Muriel drawled, “you always owe me for something or other. You just count yourself lucky that I don’t call in all those chits.”
“Why did you stop me?” Eavan had heard Muriel’s lectures on “giving in” often enough that she was a little surprised.
Muriel glanced over at her, taking her eyes off the road long enough that it gave Eavan a pleasant shiver of danger. When Muriel looked back at the road, she answered, “When you choose to cross those lines, I’m good with it, but it’s not my place to help you cross them…unless you decide in advance…preferably with me along for the ride.” She flashed a fanged grin at Eavan.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be woman enough for you,” Eavan admitted.
Muriel laughed, not cruelly, but in that way that made clear that she knew secrets that the rest of the world could only guess at. “I’ll be gentle the first time…although I’m not so sure that’s what you’re looking for. You came near to breaking your mortal.”
“I’m mortal, too.” Eavan wasn’t sure of it just then; she felt pretty far from mortal after the way she’d thrown herself at Cillian. The words, the reminder—to herself and to Muriel—were important though. “I’m still mortal.”
“You are, sweetie.” Muriel reached over and squeezed her head. “You haven’t killed anyone, and I don’t know if that was sex enough to count.”