Demon Night (51 page)

A tremor shook through her. Charlie clutched at her belly, her chest, curling in against the darkness unfurling within them. She couldn't have heard that right. Couldn't have. But no matter how she played it through her mind, it came out the same.

He'd given up on her. Given an ultimatum…and she lost either way.

This hadn't been worth the risk, then. And it didn't matter if she'd been wrong about him, that 1 percent, because now she would plead so that he wouldn't leave, and he'd say he loved her because she'd beg him to. And she'd keep asking him, because it'd be hollow when he said it, and she'd want the words to fill up the emptiness of it all. And she'd cling, trying to hold on to him, knowing her need was the reason he'd stayed, knowing her neediness would eventually push him away.

She tried to hold it in. But she could already feel it shattering open within her, projecting outward like sharp, broken glass, and there wasn't anything left inside that wasn't torn.

“Oh, Christ Jesus,” Ethan said, his face white as he leapt toward her, his weight sending her staggering back until his body pressed hers up tight against the wall, his hand covering her mouth. “Don't let it out. I'm sorry. So damn sorry. I felt I was losing, and I tried to cheat—but I shouldn't have, not with this. Not with your heart. So just don't let it out, and I'll figure you. I swear to God I'll figure you.”

He dropped his face into the curve of her shoulder, his breath a hot shudder against her neck. Charlie stared at the play of moonlight on the water outside. Slowly, she stopped shaking, and the pieces of her that had broken fell into place again, their edges smoothing.

She'd be all right. Even if he left, she'd get by.

And his body caged hers, but she was strong enough to push him away. His hand sealed her mouth, but a bite or a kiss to his palm would move it.

So she waited. And when Ethan raised his head, she hoped.

“I wouldn't have flown off,” he said, and his palm slid from her mouth. “If going meant never coming back, I wouldn't have left. I'd have stood out on that deck until time made a statue of me, and I'd ponder all the reasons why a woman could need something so much, but not ask for it.”

His gaze searched her face, but she couldn't speak. Just waited for the constriction on her throat to loosen.

“But no matter how long I stood there pondering, I don't imagine I'd get anywhere, because I'd focus on what you're needing, when maybe I should be wondering why it is you ain't
asking
. So I figure it must be one of those things that don't mean nothing if you got to ask for it.”

Charlie trembled, and his thumbs wiped the corners of her eyes. He brushed a kiss across her lips before lifting his head.

“And I don't reckon I've ever told you how much I love you, Miss Charlie.”

Her throat finally loosened, but a relieved sob broke from her instead of a response. She could only wind her arms around his neck and kiss him,
I love you
and
thank you
on her lips and tongue, trusting he'd recognize their taste.

And she recognized Ethan's as he projected it, bright and clean and strong—so incredibly strong. He drew back, and grinned before sweeping her up into his arms. “I also reckon this calls for the bed.”

She'd have laughed, but his mouth was already on hers as he raced up the stairs, and he didn't stop kissing her for breath or speech, but asked with the thrust of his tongue and his body what she wanted. She wanted the pleasure of his blood for them both, and he trembled above her when she took it.

It was a long time before she eased away from him and lay back against the pillows. Ethan rolled on top of her and smiled crookedly, his hands tangling in her hair.

“You ain't slow, Charlie. You must've known what I felt for you. I thought for certain you did, or I'd have figured you the first night.”

“I did know.” She drew a shaking breath, and he skimmed a kiss over her forehead. “I just didn't know if
you
did.”

He reared back at that. “I ain't slow either.”

“I know. But you said your dad taught you a lesson about loving a woman too much. I didn't know if you'd ever let yourself—and if you couldn't help it, if you'd admit to yourself that you did.”

His brows lowered, as if he were trying to figure her out again. “So as I wouldn't be hurt?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“That would have been the wrong lesson to learn,” he said, his voice rough. “You love a woman that much, so that life ain't worth living without her, then you do everything you can to see
she
isn't hurt. And once she's safe, you do everything you can to make sure you don't lose her. And if you don't give her everything she needs and she goes, you do everything you can to make it right again, because when she's hurting or needing something you can feel it, and it's like a poison tearing you apart, killing you slow. So you give her everything she needs or can't get for herself, and providing for her becomes a need as powerful as your love for her.”

“Oh. Why didn't you tell me this, lay it out straight for me?” She felt her face beginning to crumple with another sob, but she punched his shoulder instead.

He grinned. “You're beating on me for it? I recall that you held on to your declaration an awful long time, Miss Charlie.”

“I was afraid.”

“Well, so am I.” His grin faded. “There's another side to all of that, Charlie. Because when you love a woman that much, you need her just to keep moving every day. You've got to live—but without her, nothing much matters anymore, and the couple of hours you see her, and knowing that you're keeping her city safe are about the only reasons to keep going.”

“Or the moment he sits at your bar,” Charlie said quietly. “And when you see him, it's actually easy to smile.”

His gaze moved over her features for a long moment, his throat working. “Yes,” he finally said. “It ain't living as much as getting by, and I know it wasn't like this before I met you. Now there's something missing when you aren't with me, but I didn't want you to think you was a salve.”

She wouldn't have. “Generally, those are bad for you, and you've already told me I make you a better man.” Smiling, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “And ‘getting by' is what you're doing when you have the salve. That's why you're trying to get rid of it, so that living feels right again.”

He stared down at her, then finally shook his head, chuckling low. “You see, Charlie? I haven't been able to figure you at all, not since day one.”

“I still think it's easy, but at least you won't get bored.” She bit her lip, then said, “I won't use Sammael's blood anymore, but I'll have Jane keep sending it to me, just for those times when you can't show up those couple of hours a night. And what I don't use, we can store for any other vampire who might need it.”

“You can do that, Charlie, if you like—but I reckon those times won't be all that often.” When she looked at him, her gaze questioning, he told her of the offer Lilith had made.

Considering the reason he'd been assigned to Seattle was the looming threat of the nephilim, perhaps she shouldn't be quite as glad that he'd be there—but it was difficult not to be. And he seemed pleased by it, as well, which only made it better.

“So you'll be sheriff of this here town,” she drawled when he finished, and although the rasp in her voice ruined it, his smile was broad and his laugh low.

And when it faded, his eyes were glowing, his gaze intense upon hers. “I'll lay it out straight now, Charlie: You need me as much as I need you, and that'll never change, and I ain't ever ridding myself of you. And if you ever rid yourself of me, I'll just follow you around, groaning real loud.”

She grinned, her legs tightening around him. “I know a guy who did that once.”

“Is that a fact?” His gaze fell to her teeth, and he shuddered lightly, all over, as if someone had whispered a wicked promise in his ear.

“Yes,” she said, and turned her cheek against the pillow so that his mouth could begin exploring her jaw, the line of her shoulder. “Just followed this lady around, drifting along behind her, and taking her clothes off whenever he could.”

“Well now, that sounds like a man of dubious character.”

“He was a good guy. Heroic, even. But he also had a speech impediment, and never said anything directly, which was why he'd resorted to groaning.”

“And I reckon the lady in this story doesn't make any kind of sense.”

Only because it was impossible to think when Ethan did that thing with his tongue on her neck. “She makes perfect sense to me. And she hardly ever understood him, but she really, really wanted to. And he had no idea why he wanted her so bad, but she realized it must be because he kept climbing over the wall between their balconies, and sneaking into her apartment while she slept. And after he saw her naked, he just couldn't stop following her, because he loves pink things, and plump things, and titties—”

“I sure as hell do.” He lifted his head, grinning; then he used his mouth to show her how much.

Her fingernails dug into his biceps. “Yeah. And…yeah. And she kept thinking about sucking on him—”

“With those sexy crooked fangs.”

“Fuck you. They aren't crooked; they just aren't straight. And she wasn't thinking of sucking his neck, exactly…And it was his fault, because he kept talking about how he didn't wear underwear.”

“I'm blushing awful hard now, Charlie.”

“Is that what they called it back then? Blushing?”

“It just ain't manly to blush anywhere else. Women, now—they can blush all over. But this is where it's prettiest. So soft and wet.”

“And his hands,” she gasped. “And he had big hands—oh, God, don't stop doing that—and a voice that made her drunk just listening to it; drunk but not stupid, and never coming down from the high. And just looking at him made her heart stop, because he was so freaking sexy and funny and strong and
amazing
that—”

He nipped her inner thigh. “You hush, Miss Charlie.”

She sang for him, instead.