Page 20 of Mortal Heart

Like Alice, Arkady didn’t believe in coincidences, especially when it came to vampires. Big cities like this one were in reality very small worlds. Mora hadn’t hemorrhaged to death because they’d questioned him about the traffickers. He’d died because she’d asked him where he’d heard the phrasemy sweetnessbefore.

She’d known someday her path would lead her back to the vamp who’d damn near torn out her throat. She just hadn’t imagined it would be tonight, and especially not with Alice’s runaway houseguest riding shotgun.

First things first, she thought. She needed a very hot shower, a change of clothes, and a drink—and not necessarily in that order.

Before they’d left Bella’s, she’d put on the shirt she’d stolen from Ronan under her jacket so the leather didn’t end up covered with blood. It was bad enough that her second-best bra was toast. Even if she could clean it, she wouldn’t be able to wear it again without remembering whose blood had soaked into it and why he’d died.

She took off her jacket and studied it with a critical eye, then sighed in relief. She’d have to get rid of her bra and jeans, but at least her boots and jacket could be saved with a bit of cleaning. Ronan’s shirt, on the other hand, was saturated with drying blood and she had to peel it off.

Jacket in one hand and T-shirt in the other, she opened the door that led to the kitchen. “I’m hitting the shower,” she announced. “Shut the garage on your way in. You can wait until it’s your turn for the shower or use the sink in the laundry room to clean up. Soap, washcloths, and towels are in the cabinet above the washer.”

Heavy footsteps came up behind her. He could have moved silently if he’d wanted to, but he’d let her know exactly where he was so he didn’t startle her, despite the fact he was still furious. At any other point in her very eventful life, she would never have allowed someone who harbored so much resentment to lurk behind her.

From the moment they’d stood close to each other in the parking lot at the Pelican, she’d felt she could trust him to have her back. It hadn’t made sense then, and it made even less sense now. Maybe that was a clue to what he was, but she didn’t know what it meant.

“Can I touch you?” Ronan asked, his voice gruff.

“Why?” She spun around. “Touch me where?”

She stood two steps above him, so now they were face-to-face despite their difference in height. Up close, his eyes were a perfect ice blue. At the moment, she couldn’t see any hint of that mysterious silver glint.

“Here.” He reached up, his gaze locked on hers.

She watched him warily but held her ground. His surprisingly gentle fingertips touched her neck right where the vamp had bitten her. She couldn’t remember ever feeling such a wonderful warmth. She saw no sympathy or pity in his eyes, as if he understood those were the last things she wanted. Still, her stomach knotted.

“Don’t.” She took an involuntary step back. Her boot heel caught on the threshold of the kitchen doorway.

Lightning fast, he jumped to the top step and set her back on her feet almost before she realized she’d stumbled. His sudden movement left them less than an inch apart. His hands stayed on her bare arms, but he just rested them there without holding onto her. She shivered despite the warmth of his touch.

His gaze moved to her mouth. The way he studied her lips sent a wave of heat straight through her. She’d noticed him watching her throughout the evening, enough to make her think she knew what stirred his drink. Not her ass or tits, though he’d admired those too when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. He liked her mouth.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. The corners of his mouth turned up.

Damn it, they had a case to solve. No time to knock boots, no matter how much her lady bits ached. “I’ve got blood all over my clothes,” she said. Her voice sounded breathless, even to her ears.

“I can see that,” he rumbled.

“And I stink like black magic.” Now she sounded a bit desperate. That would have annoyed her more if she could think of anything besides that baritone rumble and how good he smelled even over the odor of witch magic and Mora’s blood.

Ronan raised his eyebrows. “Do I look like I care?”

“Icare.” She pressed her hands to his chest. When he didn’t move, she gave in and moved back. “I told you blood isn’t sexy. Black magic stench definitely isn’t.”

“Then you need to get out of those bloody, stinky clothes.” Mercilessly, he closed the distance between them again. “The sooner, the better.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She didn’t retreat, because backing up even once had set her teeth on edge. “But you’re in my personal space uninvited, sweet pea. Move back, or I’ll move you.”

He chuckled. “I’d like to see you try.”

Before he finished the sentence, her fist was already in motion. He easily blocked the blowandher follow-up left jab with his forearms.Damn it.Her attempt to kick the back of his knee and fold him like a lawn chair accomplished exactly nothing. Though she made contact, he barely flinched.

She went into overdrive then with a flurry of right and left hooks, jabs, uppercuts, and body blows. Each connected only with his biceps or forearms, and none caused him to budge an inch, as if his boots were nailed to her kitchen floor. And the smug son of a bitch kept smiling.

Arkady saw red.

She jumped, spun, and unleashed a lightning-speed roundhouse kick that had left previous opponents flat on their backs and seeing stars, if not unconscious.

Instead of his chin, her boot heel hit his hand. He grabbed her ankle and lifted her until she dangled upside down almost three feet from the tile floor.

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