So when Eddie put his hands on her for a second time, it was weird and wonderful, and frightening. Even through the oversized jacket, she felt his hard strength. . and for one moment, she let herself imagine resting in that strength, unafraid.
Lyssa tried pushing him away. “This isn’t safe. The last time we touched. .”
The last time, when I tried to kill you. .
Her hand, at his throat. . squeezing. .
I can’t be trusted.
Suddenly, the only thing holding her up was Eddie’s arm around her.
“Don’t think about that,” he said, as if he could read her mind. His voice moved through her, into her blood. “It doesn’t matter. Let whatever you’re feeling, right now, wash over you. Feel it, put it away. Box it up where it can’t touch you.”
What she felt was despair. “Boxing up your emotions only delays the inevitable.”
“It’s control,” he countered.
“If you can’t control yourself when you’re at your worst, then you don’t have control.” Lyssa pulled at his arm, and this time he let go. Her left leg barely held. All her limbs felt like Jell-O. So did her heart.
Eddie stood back from her, his eyes so dark.
She leaned against the wall, exhausted. “I’m sorry. About what I did to you today.”
“You were afraid.”
“That’s no excuse.” Lyssa heard movement below them, near the stairs at the end of the hall. The sound of someone large, approaching slowly. She tried to catch a scent, but all she could smell was the jacket wrapped around her, with its warm dark notes that were masculine and Eddie.
She pushed away from the wall. “I need to go.”
“No. You’re safe here.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “With the Cruor Venator in this city, no one should be near me. If they’ve been following me. .”
Her voice choked off with dismay. She couldn’t imagine how they had been following her, but if they had. . then she might have led them straight to the home of a gargoyle.
“Wait,” he said, but she had already turned and was hurrying as best she could down the hall. Each step unsteady, the lights in her eyes dancing brighter, hotter. Her blood, which had been cool upon waking, warmed even more. Fire, filling her. Fire, rising beneath her skin.
Because of Eddie. All that fire, reaching for him.
Don’t turn around, she told herself, feeling him right behind her. Don’t turn around to look at him.
Even though she wanted to, more than anything. The compulsion unnerved her. So did her dragon’s words, still rattling around her head. Crazy words. No way she was right. Like hell. That big lizard was insane.
Lyssa, however, had to stop at the top of the stairs. . and she let go of the jacket just long enough to brace herself against the rail.
A gargoyle stood on the stairs in front of her. No illusion to see through, this time.
Her mouth went dry. He was huge. Almost seven feet tall, with silver skin and broad, thick muscles that rippled over his long, powerful limbs. Horns protruded from his hair, and leathery wings draped over his shoulders. He wore cutoff jeans and held a giant mug of some steaming hot liquid.
They stared at each other. Lyssa didn’t miss the flicker of unease in his eyes.
“Wow,” he rumbled. “Okay, you’re up.”
“Lannes,” Eddie said, behind her. “Meet Lyssa.”
“I. .” she began, and for some reason tears sprang to her eyes. “I need to get out of here.”
Behind her, Eddie made a frustrated sound, and she finally let herself look at him. He stood there, skin shadowed with soot, raking one hand through his hair until it stood up — and the only thing keeping him from looking like some dark Sidhe was the curve of his ears.
“Don’t say it,” Lyssa said hoarsely, as a deep ache burned through her entire right arm. “Let me go. Before you make yourselves targets.” She turned to face the gargoyle, who watched her with a frown. “Both of you, get out of this city.”
Eddie stepped in close. “I would love to.”
Her cheeks reddened, and she backed away from him. “What’s the problem, then?”
He gave her a faint, unbearably sweet, smile. “You have my coat.”
She stared at him. The gargoyle let out a small, muffled grunt that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
“Here,” he said, taking another step and holding out the steaming mug. “I made you tea.”
Those tears were coming shockingly close to burning up her eyes. “You’re both idiots.”
Eddie arched his brow, and the gargoyle sighed. “You sound like my wife. Please, take this.”
Lyssa took the mug, reluctantly. She had to let go of the jacket to do so, and instinctively sloped her shoulders, trying to keep them from seeing her right arm, folded over her stomach. Stupid, yes. They had to have already seen it. But old habits died hard.
The tea was dark and smelled good. The gargoyle stepped back when she took the mug and rubbed his clawed hands together. Uneasy, she thought. Eddie joined her at the top of the stairs and leaned against the opposite wall.
It got very quiet, then. All three of them, just standing there. Both men, watching her.
Lyssa sipped the tea, suddenly shy, and uncomfortable. “I wish you both wouldn’t stare.”
Eddie’s mouth softened. The gargoyle grunted. “I pulled some of my wife’s clothes from the dryer. When you’re ready to change, come down and get them. There’s a bathroom down here, too, with a shower. Feel free to use it.”
He turned before she could thank him and walked back down the stairs, silent and graceful, despite his size. The tips of his caped wings trailed against the steps. Lyssa watched him go, feeling as though she were losing her mind.
“I’m losing my mind,” she said.
“I felt like that the first time I met his brother,” said Eddie quietly. “I never get tired of feeling surprised.”
“Surprises are dangerous.” Lyssa walked down the stairs, leaning hard on the rail. “I don’t like them.”
He followed her. “I’m not sorry I found you.”
Lyssa wanted to say, I am, you should be, I wish we’d never met, but when she opened her mouth, those words wouldn’t come out. Apparently, there were some lies she just couldn’t tell.
At the bottom of the stairs, she heard a television — the quick sharp tones of a news report. Dread filled her. She went still, staring down the hall.
Eddie pushed past her. “I’ll tell Lannes to turn it off.”
“No.” Lyssa almost reached for him with her right hand, and that shocked her enough into silence. Her right hand, which she hadn’t shown another human being for ten years. . coming out into plain sight as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She held her hand against her stomach. “I want to listen.”
Eddie regarded her a moment, then stepped aside. When she tried to pass him, though, his fingers grazed her arm. A tingling shock rolled through her, a powerful awareness of him.
“Lyssa. Whatever you see in there—”
“—is my fault,” she interrupted, and his hand slid fully around her arm, holding her still.
“Look at me,” he said in a soft, firm, voice.
She did so, reluctantly. It was very difficult to meet his gaze. As though she were dreaming again — only this was real. He was real. He looked at her with those knowing eyes, and it was as though he could see right through her.
“You’re not alone,” he said. “Whatever happens, remember that.”
Of all the things he could have said to her, that was the most devastating. It made her feel more alone than ever, and tears — those damned tears — burned her eyes, again. She never cried. Never, not in years.