White Hot Kiss (23 page)

Roth chuckled deeply. “Let them try.”

I pulled away and stood, unable to sit any longer. Smoothing my hands over what I was sure was a tangled mess of hair, I started to pace between a potted apple tree and something that resembled a lilac bush that hadn’t bloomed. “I’m not telling the Wardens that you killed Petr.”

His lips slipped into a scowl. “I can take care of myself. I’m rather hard to find when I don’t want to be and even harder to kill.”

“I get that, but no. I’ll tell them it was a demon, but not you. I’m not giving them your name.” Once those words left my tongue, my conviction was cemented.

Roth stared at me, obviously bewildered. “I know I’m telling you to lie about the whole soul thing, but that makes sense. They’d kill you. But you’re willing to lie about me? You do realize what that means?”

“Of course,” I snapped, tucking my hair back. Not telling them about Roth was a betrayal. It could even be seen as me taking sides, and if the Wardens ever found out that I knew who killed Petr and hid the truth, I was as good as dead.

“I think you like me,” Roth said suddenly.

I stopped pacing and my heart did a funny little jump. “What? No.”

He tilted his head to the side, his lips spreading into a teasing grin. “The way you lie to yourself is sort of cute.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Hmm...” He sat up, eyes glimmering with mirth. “You wanted me to kiss you earlier.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “No. I did not.”

“You’re right. You wanted me to do much, much more.”

Now that heat was spreading elsewhere. “You’re insane. I don’t want that—you.” The words sounded lame to my own ears. “You saved my life. Sending the Wardens after you isn’t a way to repay that.” There. That sounded better.

Roth chuckled. “Okay.”

“Don’t ‘okay’ me.” I took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

I shot him a glare.

“What?” he said innocently. Then he got all serious-faced again. “What are you going to do?”

Glancing up at the overcast sky, I shook my head. Besides the obvious, which was finding out where the Key was and staying away from the demon who wanted to use me as part of a bizarre incantation, I assumed he meant with the home situation.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice a tiny whisper. “I can’t hide from them forever. And as long as they don’t know about the soul thing, I should be okay. Zayne—”

“Zayne?” Roth was frowning again. “The big, blond oaf?”

“I don’t think he can be categorized as an oaf,” I said drily. “How do you— Never mind. Watching me. Got it.”

“You can’t trust them. You may be close with Stony and crew, but they have to know what you are. You’re not safe there.” He ran the tips of his fingers along the cushion beside him, drawing my attention. Hadn’t he touched me like that last night? I shivered and looked away. “If you go home, Layla, you’re going to have to pretend you don’t know any different.”

“I can’t believe it,” I said, and when he sent me a look, I shook my head. “Zayne—he couldn’t have known. He...”

“He’s a Warden, Layla. His loyalty—”

“No. You don’t understand. I’m not naive or stupid, but I know Zayne wouldn’t have kept something like this from me.”

“Why? Because you care for him?”

I was about to ask how he knew that, but then I remembered Bambi had been chilling about the tree house. “Of course I care about Zayne. He’s the only one who’s ever really known me. I can be myself around him and...” I trailed off, because the falsity of what I was saying sank in. I really couldn’t be what I truly was with Zayne, either. “Anyway, he would’ve told me the truth.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Because he cares about you, too?”

“He does, but not in the way I’m sure you’re insinuating.”

“Actually, he does
like
you.” When I frowned, he laughed. “And I do mean
like you,
like you.”

I scoffed. “How would you know? You—”

“Don’t know Stony? You’re right, but you forget that I did watch you for some time. I’ve seen you around him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Sure, a relationship between you two is as hopeless as the debt problem facing—”

“Jeez, okay. I know that.” I sighed.

“But it doesn’t stop someone from wanting another person they can never have.” His gaze turned acute. “Even if Stony doesn’t know the truth, and you trust him with your life and blah, blah, you can’t tell him anything.”

A big, heavy ball of dread settled in my stomach.

“Layla?”

I nodded. “I’m not going to tell them.”

“Good,” he said, standing. He smiled, but I couldn’t bring myself to return the gesture. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just sealed my fate.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Leaving Roth’s loft hadn’t been easy. For a second or two, I didn’t think he was going to let me go. He hadn’t voiced any direct opposition to me going home, but I could tell he wasn’t a big fan of the idea. But if I stayed with him it would only be a matter of time before the Wardens found me.

They’d kill Roth, and even though I had no idea how I felt about him, I didn’t want him to die.

Roth wanted to take me as close to home as he could get me, but I wasn’t ready to go there. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go, but I needed to be alone. He’d followed me outside his loft and I discovered we were in one of the new skyrises outside the Palisades. Along the Potomac River, it was one of the wealthiest sections in D.C.

I guessed being a demon paid well.

I started walking and I didn’t stop or look behind me to see if Roth followed. I knew I wouldn’t see him, but I also knew he was there. And as I walked, my brain replayed everything over until my stomach churned relentlessly. Coffee may not have been a great idea.

Two hours later, I sat down on one of the benches outside the Smithsonian Institution. Even in the early-morning hours, the great lawn was full of runners and tourists. The first few people to pass me by cast worried looks in my direction. With my busted face and borrowed clothing, I probably looked like a poster child for what happens when kids run away.

I kept my chin down, letting my hair shield most of my face, and no one approached me. Perfect. It was a cold morning and I hunkered down in Roth’s shirt, weary to the soul. In a matter of hours, everything had changed. My thoughts were scattered; my entire world felt broken. Roth had probably been amazed that I hadn’t freaked out after he’d told me everything, but now I was knee-deep in freak-out mode.

How were we supposed to find an ancient book when no one knew where it was? How could I stay safe from a demon when no one knew who that demon was? And better yet, how could I ever go home?

Going home was the plan. That was why I’d left Roth’s loft. Well, it wasn’t the only reason. I needed space from him, too, because things were different between us. Like a bargain had been struck—a deal. But it was more than that. Whatever had sprung up between us this morning still made me feel like I was coming out of my skin, and Roth had been right. I
had
wanted him to kiss me.

God, I couldn’t think about that right now.

What I wanted to do was rage. I wanted to throw something—kick someone, namely Abbot—and break something valuable. Lots of valuable things. I wanted to stand on the bench and scream until my voice gave out. Anger roared through me like a rabid dog and I wanted to unleash it, but under that fury, something bitter and dank stirred. There was more to the twisting in my stomach than just the bundle of nerves. I knew what would be coming in a matter of hours. I needed something sweet, like juice, but that would require money.

Within a couple of hours, a deep ache would settle in my bones. My skin would feel icy, but my insides would catch fire. As twisted as it sounded, I welcomed the sickness that came after tasting a soul. It was a rough form of punishment, but one I deserved.

I inhaled the brisk morning air and closed my eyes. I couldn’t afford to break down. What could happen was bigger than my feelings of betrayal or anger. If this demon succeeded, the apocalypse would seem like a sweet-sixteen party in comparison. I needed to be strong—stronger than what could be gained from rigorous workouts.

The low rumble of a finely tuned engine forced my eyes open. Strange that in a bustling city with the low hum of chatter, drone of passing cars and blaring horns, I’d recognize the sound of Zayne’s 1969 Chevy Impala anywhere.

I peeked through a sheet of whitish-blond hair just as Zayne climbed out of the driver’s seat. The aura around him was so pure it looked like a halo. He slammed the door shut and turned, his gaze immediately finding the bench I sat on.

My breath whooshed out like I’d been sucker punched. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind as Zayne rounded the Impala. He came to a complete stop when he saw me, his body going rigid, and then he started forward again, his pace picking up until he broke out in a dead run.

Zayne was beside the bench in an instant, uncaring of all the eyes on us, and then his arms were around me, squeezing so tight that I bit down on my lip to keep the squeak of pain from coming out.

“Oh, my God,” he said, his voice hoarse in my ear. “I can’t...” A fine tremor coursed through his large body, and his hand pressed against my back, then slid up, burying deep in my hair.

Over Zayne’s shoulder, I finally saw Roth. He was near one of the bare cherry-blossom trees, just standing there. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and then he turned around, crossing the lawn and heading east on the sidewalk, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. For Zayne not to have sensed the demon’s presence was a testament to his state, and I hated that he’d been that worried.

A strange urge hit me then. I wanted to go after Roth, but that didn’t make any sense. I knew he’d been watching me and that was all he was doing, but...

Zayne tugged me closer, tucking me into the crook of his neck, and he held on. Slowly, I lifted my arms, placed my hands on his back and fisted his shirt. Another shudder rocked his body. I don’t know how long we stayed like that. It could’ve been seconds or minutes, but his warmth eased some of the chill, and for a moment, I could pretend that this was a week ago and this was Zayne—
my Zayne
—and everything was going to be okay.

But then he pulled back, his hands trailing to my shoulders. “Where have you been? What happened?”

Having no idea where to start, I kept my chin down.

“Layla,” he said, placing his hands on either side of my face. I winced when his fingers pressed against my temple, but I didn’t pull away. Zayne lifted my head and his eyes widened in shock. A rush of wild emotion cut across his face. Anger was the most apparent, turning his eyes an electric blue. Tension formed around his mouth. A muscle popped as his jaw worked. He slid his hands off my face, keeping my hair back. “Petr did this?”

My chest tightened with fear and dismay. “How...how did you know?”

His chest rose harshly. “He hasn’t been seen since last night. Not since Morris said he saw him heading into the woods. I found your bag in the tree house and your phone was lying on the ground. There was...there was blood on it—your blood. We’ve been tearing this city apart looking for you. God, I thought the worst. I thought...” He swallowed thickly. “Jesus Christ, Layla...”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The look in Zayne’s eyes was frightening. “Are you okay?” he asked, and then he cursed. “That’s a stupid question. Obviously, you’re not okay. How badly are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital? Have you been out all night? Should I—”

“I’m okay.” My voice cracked as I wrapped my fingers around his wrists. I’d never seen him like this before. “I’m okay.”

He stared at me, and I suddenly recognized the emotion churning in his eyes. Horror. “God, Layla, he...he
hurt
you.”

There was no denying that when my face still looked like I’d run into a wall. “I’m all right.”

“It’s not all right. He
hit
you.” And then his gaze dropped, and I knew he saw the tips of the three angry slashes. He sucked in a ragged breath and a violent spasm shot through him. A low growl rumbled from his chest. “What form was he in?”

“Zayne.” I put my hand on his trembling arm. “You’re starting to phase.”

“Answer me!’” he shouted, making me jump. A few people cast glances our way. He swore and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. Did he—”

“No.” I was quick to answer. “He tried to kill me, but he— Zayne, you’re shifting.”

Zayne was on the verge of losing complete control and going into full gargoyle mode. His skin had taken on a gray tint. While humans were accustomed to seeing them around at night, I doubted they’d expect one in front of the Smithsonian on a Monday morning.

“How did you find me?” I asked, hoping to distract him.

His wild gaze landed on me. “What?”

I squeezed his arm with as much force as I could. His skin was already hardening. “How did you know I was here?”

A few seconds passed. “It was a last-ditch effort. I checked everywhere and then I remembered how much you liked it here.” He blinked and his eyes returned to normal, skin becoming more golden by the second. “Hell, Layla-bug, I’ve been out of my mind.”

“I’m sorry.” I threaded my fingers through his. “I couldn’t go home and I didn’t have a phone. I just...”

“Don’t apologize.” He reached out, trailing his fingers around the corner of my lip and then feathering across the bruise on my jaw. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

I dropped my hands into my lap. “That won’t be necessary.”

“The Hell it won’t be!” Fury sharpened his voice. “This isn’t okay. Breaking his jaw won’t make it better. His father—”

“He’s dead, Zayne.” I twisted my fingers together. “Petr’s dead.”

Silence. So much silence that I had to look at him and my stomach dropped. He had that wild look in his eyes again. “I didn’t kill him,” I said in a rush. “He came after me while the Alphas were here. It was like he was
sent
to kill me, Zayne. It wasn’t just him messing with me and it getting out of hand.” I told him everything Petr had said, barely taking a breath. “And I would’ve died, but—”