Kai (A Dark Assassins Novel Book One) (7 page)

He leapt from the bed and stood in front of her, unable to stop his eyes from roaming over her body, scanning her for any injuries.
 
Not satisfied with leaving it at that, his hands squeezed lightly as they roamed over her shoulders, down her arms, around her waist, and dropping down to her legs.
 

He ignored her shiver from his touch and stood, catching her eye for a split second, before he ripped open her blouse, searching for the bullet wound he’d clearly seen a few minutes before.
 
Instead, he found smooth, creamy olive skin that warmed at his touch.
 
As gently as he could manage, he ran his fingers over the imagined wound, and the rage that filled his body released in a long, stuttering sigh.

“What’s wrong?”
 
Her voice wobbled.

Unable to explain his irrational actions, he yanked her close and shivered as he heard her heart beat in a staccato rhythm.
 
Although he hadn’t explained his frenzy when she walked into the room, she allowed him to hold her, to examine her, without a single word of complaint.

He tread on dangerous territory as he held her.
 
Her soft frame against his unyielding body sent a shaft of pleasure throughout, and as much as he craved to press her against the wall and drive deep inside her warmth to assess that she was truly alive, he forced himself to release her and step back.

As he raised his hand to brush through his hair, he noticed a fine tremor in his hand that her eyes would miss, and yet he couldn’t let her know how much she and the dream affected him.

“I’m fine.”
 
The words came out harsh and direct, and she stepped away from him.

He strolled to his closet, pulled on a pair of sweats, and searched for a shirt to replace the one he damaged.
 
It was at that moment he realized that she hadn’t had time to gather supplies, much less clothing, but he knew that Jade kept a stash of clothes in her room in the basement.

When he turned, her shirt gaped open, and he bit back a growl of need at the sight of her exposed.
 
Unable to trust himself to be near her, he tossed one of his tees to her, and watched as she caught it.
 
For the first time since he ripped her shirt, he noticed her bra that emphasized her darker skin tone, and while she pulled on the shirt, he wondered whether her panties matched.

“I’m gonna raid Jade’s closet and see what I can find to fit you.
 
I’ll meet you downstairs,” he said, his voice clipped.

A spark flashed in the corner of her eye.
 
His eyes drew down to see that she clutched her hands into fists.
 
Before he could decipher her emotions, she turned and walked out the door.

As he worked to put the last few minutes of the dream out of his mind, he walked into the full suite bathroom, and with more force than was necessary, twisted the handles for the shower.
 
After stripping, he stepped into the hot, scalding water.
 
He hoped that the pain would distract him, but he kept replaying the moment when she died in his arms.

It was the first dream he experienced, so he realized that bringing her home triggered something deep inside that couldn’t be worked out while he was conscious.
 
Whatever the reason for the dream, the hunger to protect her grew with each moment they spent together.

By the time he found her downstairs, he’d gathered most of Jade’s stuff—clothes, underthings, her shampoo and conditioner, and a new toothbrush and toothpaste—and stashed them all in Liv’s bedroom; he’d gathered some semblance of control over his emotions.
 
Jade was a little taller than Liv, but he checked the shirt that he destroyed, and they wore the same size, so she would have to deal until he could get Seth to shop for clothes.

Taking two stairs at a time, he expected her to be waiting with questions about what had happened in his bedroom; instead, she was elbow deep in paperwork, mumbling to herself.

“When did Seth come by?”

For a moment, he thought that she wasn’t answering because of what had happened in his bedroom.
 
But without looking up, she reached for a blank notebook page and pulled a pen from behind her ear, and continued to scribble.
 
Her brow furrowed deeper with each new notation written on the page, and he stood, fascinated, as he watched her work.
 
Once she was finished filling the page, she scanned it once more before she placed it on the growing pile by the leg of the coffee table.
 
By the looks of the work she’d already completed, she had been working for most of the day that he’d slept.
 

Shaking off the stupor from watching her hypnotic movements, he walked into the kitchen and found his cupboards and pantry filled with food.
 
He opened the fridge, and he found the same.
 
Pulling out ingredients to make a simple pasta, he remembered the many times Reaper and Hunter had cooked the dish.
 
He found it simple as he boiled the noodles, threw together a crème sauce that contained spinach and mushrooms, and finally, made a salad.
 

“Liv?” he called out.
 

There was no response.
 
As he peeked around the corner and found her still hard at work, he ambled close to her, unable to keep his eyes from scanning her features.
 

In the short time he’d known her, he’d become enthralled by all of her.
 
He loved the way her full lips moved when she spoke, how they would quirk upward when she was excited, making her mouth even more kissable.
 
Or how she raked her long, elegant fingers through her long curls whenever they dropped in her face, or how her amber eyes would widen whenever she learned something new.
 
Most of all, he loved how her curves fit against him perfectly, and the warmth of her smile that he had grown addicted to.
 

For a loner, he had adjusted swiftly to sharing his house with her, but she made it easy.
 
When he wasn’t with her, he kept track of what part of the house she was in and found her to be working most of the time.
 
When they were together, he found his gaze and awareness drawn back to her, again and again.
 
He sought her company more often than not, and with her in residence for such a short period of time, his excuses for staying near sounded hollow and untrue, even if he kept those reasons to himself.
 

The burgeoning desire that had lain dormant before they’d met had grown as he’d gotten to know her, until it left him gruff and short.
 
She ignored his rude behavior and went out of her way to speak to him in a manner that few had ever done, as if they were friends.
 
Even though her work was over his head, she had a way of explaining it that made absolute sense.
 
And although he’d tried to speak little of his life as an assassin, somehow, she drew out details that he’d never admitted to anyone.

Unable to capture her attention by his presence alone, he surprised both of them when he lifted her into his arms and placed a small kiss against her lips.
 
A flash of hunger ripped through him, and although he wanted to deepen the kiss and listen to her soft moans as he tasted more of her, he forced himself to pull back.

“Umm, what?” she asked, dazed.

“Dinner.
 
I guess you didn’t hear me calling you?”

The blush that stained her cheeks drew his eyes and when she wiggled out of his arms, he found that he missed her warmth.
 
She gathered the papers that were filled with her print, and walked toward the fireplace, dumping the entire pile on the smoldering logs.
 
The pile ignited and crackled; meager pieces popped into the air and rained back down into the rest of the ash, before she turned back to him.
 
He must’ve had a comical look on his face, because she giggled.

“You made me dinner?” she asked.

He nodded, eyes moving to the fireplace.

“Don’t worry.
 
I’ll share everything I find with you and your team, but I’m in the trial and error process so there isn’t much to report.”
 
She walked past him and into the kitchen.

Shaking his head, he followed her in and pulled out a chair for her.
 
When she smiled at him and sat where he indicated, he turned and reached for a plate, taking the time to load it up with pasta and salad, before he slid it in front of her.
 
He almost laughed as her eyes widened at the food in front of her, and she did gift him with a smile before she picked up her fork and started to eat.

Pausing for a moment, she pulled out a pill from her jeans pocket and swallowed it with a long drink of water.
 
Like everything else he learned about her, she ate without trepidation.
 
She dove in, and moaned aloud at the first touch of flavor on her tongue.
 
Instead of dwelling on the taste, she continued eating until the entire plate sat empty.

“Thank you for dinner.
 
It was really good.
 
Most of the time I forget,” she said.

He shrugged and leaned back against the chair, watching her as she wiped the side of her mouth before she set the napkin down.
 
As his gaze wandered over her, he smiled at the scene before him.
 
He had yet to see her sit still, as if she couldn’t stand not to be working for even a minute, and laughed aloud when he watched her eyes dart to her workspace.
 

A chilling thought sobered him like nothing else could.
 
Each new thing he learned about her, drove him to want to learn more about her.
 
But becoming involved with his former target compromised both of them.

If the people who were after her learned about him and Dark Company, more than her life would be on the line.
 
Standard Biotech knew about shifters, and possibly vampires, depending on the other captives they held, so there was no telling how low they would sink in order to capture her and torture her for information.

And if he could be honest with himself, she’d come to mean more to him than he thought possible, despite the absurdity of his attraction to this one human.
 
The attraction was dangerous, and the sooner he shut it down, the better both of them would be.

“I need to feed from you.
 
It was for purely selfish reasons.”

“Of course,” she replied.

“What was the pill you took?
 
Birth control?”

She shook her head and rose with her plate in her hand.
 
Ignoring his question, she put away the rest of the food.
 
She cleaned the dishes and wiped down the kitchen, before she turned back to him.
 
“When do you want to—”

“An hour.
 
I put some clothes and toiletries in your room, so feel free to use anything you find.”

Looking unsure how to answer him, she mumbled her thanks and headed back to her work.

He blew out a breath and relaxed his tense muscles.
 
He needed to get his shit together, because he had no idea how long they were stuck together.
 
Each time she was near him, his desire for her grew.
 

And as he paced the length of the kitchen, the worries that had been planted in his mind the moment Ghost had commanded that he protect her were almost upon him.
 
Although he needed control when he fed from her, he couldn’t control his natural reactions to her scent, her curvy body, or his intense awareness of her presence.
 
Her reaction to seeing him naked had shaken her, but she tamped them down in order to find out whether he was okay.
 
That one fact proved to be perilous to his resolution to keep his distance from her, on top of the temptation she presented.

By the end of the hour, he was no closer to figuring out why she affected him.
 
He stepped into the living room and found her sitting on the floor.

“Ready?” he asked.

Already used to the complete concentration on her work, he wrapped his hands around her waist and picked her up.
 
As he sat down on the couch, he settled her on his lap as he cradled her against his right arm, her neck exposed to his view.
 
The vein in her neck pulsed, and her breathing deepened as she spotted his teeth elongate.

He squeezed her once, and to reassure her that he would never hurt her, reached for her hand and flipped it palm side up.
 
He brought his head down until her wrist was inches from his face, and his tongue darted out, swiping a long swath from end to end.
 
Pulling back, he retracted his teeth and gritted them, distracting himself from from the desire that coursed through his body from a small taste of her.
 
After taking a deep breath, he glanced at her and caught desire swirling in the honeyed depths, and forced himself to relax.

“Touch your wrist.”

Drawing her eyes from his, she pressed her finger against her wrist and gasped.
 
“It’s numb.”
 

She ran her fingernail against the skin, and although not enough to make herself bleed, she drew it over the same spot several times to make sure.
 
She held up her other wrist, and silently asked him to repeat his actions.

It was a treacherous move, but as if he were in a trance, his teeth scraped along her wrist, drawing a small amount of blood.
 
His tongue shot out, and he groaned as he sampled his first taste of her, his tongue on her skin longer than necessary.
 
The healing properties in his saliva healed the scrapes, but he closed his eyes and savored the sweetest blood he’d ever tasted.