Page 194 of Those Who Are Bound

Elliott

Yes,she’ddrivenhomethat night and ridden her hand, crying out his name while cursing him for his persistence, his magnetism, his resolve. Hating him, because it would mean she was going to have to hurt him even more.

And she hated Becks, and Gage, but most of all herself. Her demonic, twisted self, that diabolic part of her she only barely controlled, that had already claimed its victims. But she refused to let Jonah be another.

Because she cared about him. She’d never admit the extent of how much, for fear of how it could harm.

The heavy bag bore the brunt of her fury. Killion came out once and pulled her sweating body away from it, his look reproachful. Understanding, but admonitory. “Some demons you gotta face, boss.” It was all he said before he walked away.

Funny advice coming from a man who’d been in jail for “angry shit.”

Well, she was about to face those demons. She stood on her front deck, looking out over the property. Mid-August was still hot in the Midwest, but they lucked out with an evening of low humidity, manageable temperatures, and a slight breeze.

The reception dinner and after party was an indoor-outdoor affair. Elliott knew that much. Lucy had lanterns strung on the back of the property, along with strategically placed tables and chairs, as well as tall tables for standing. The music was soft classical. “Elegant” was how Lucy had defined it. “Boring,” Killion had shot back, then had laughed at Lucy’s expression.

But somewhere down amongst the crowd was Jonah, not that he was a demon. Far from it. But her demon would love to make its mark on him. How did she explain to him who she was? What she was capable of?

But Killion was right: he deserved to know.

So she made her way down the stairs, self-consciously smoothing down the skirt of the mini-dress she’d purchased for tonight. She told herself that it wasn’t for him, but… she wasn’t trying to impress anyone else. Honestly, she didn’t want to impress him, either, because it would make her work harder.

Of course, all she had to do was tell him what she’d done and—bam—he’d be gone so fast, there’d be a cartoon cut-out in the air that had once been his form. Well, she’d see how fortifying his god was to him after that.

Walking through the evergreens into the lovely, sparkly space Lucy had created, Elliott sensed his gaze on her. In what she hoped was a casual sweep of the yard to take in the softly twinkling lanterns, candles on tables, and outdoor firepits, she spotted him. He was standing at one of the high tables, knee-knocking handsome in a suit, the top buttons undone. She had the passing thought that the wolf couldn’t be completely buttoned up. Lucy stood at the table with him, talking to another couple, similarly decked out to match the theme of the evening.

Lucy was gorgeous in a floor-length rose-colored satin sheath dress. It draped her perfectly; she looked like she should be on a billboard somewhere, looking seductively at the camera while sucking on a strawberry—although completely off-brand for the bubbly woman. She’d probably wrinkle her nose at Elliott’s thought, or snort-laugh.

It made Elliott feel silly in her flirty little dress. Yes, it was simple black—one every woman should own, but she didn’t until now—with its own deep dive of a decolletage. Hers held more cleavage than Lucy’s, but Lucy was… elegant. Matching the theme of the night.

At least Elliott hadn’t paired her dress with boots.

Looking back at Jonah, she noticed his smoldering approval as he raised his eyes from her ballet-slippered feet. He’d apparently had the same thought. She raised a saucy shoulder to him as though to say, “Still not heels, though.”

Because she would never be that girl.

His smolder deepened.

And if she’d been wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

Elliott took a flute of champagne from a waiter as she made her way toward the table.

Jonah marked her progress as she walked up. His attention hadn’t left her since she arrived, and the intensity of his gaze increased as she approached. If the look on his face was any indication, her ditch last week only challenged him.

It was a dangerous tactic on his part because she was competitive. Push, and she pushed back harder. Didn’t he know that?Stepping up to the table across from him, she was hit with the familiar arc of electricity that snapped between them. She was distantly surprised that no one remarked on it; that they weren’t equally singed by the definite pulse in the air.

“Elliott, allow me to introduce you to Pastor Vanessa VanMeter and her husband, Rick.” Lucy indicated the couple to Elliott’s left.

“Vanessa,” the Black woman said in a warm, soothing tone that Elliott could easily imagine holding an audience in rapt attention. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Jonah.”

Elliott flicked her gaze over to Jonah. His look was once again challenging. “I see.” They weren’t the most informative words. Had he talked about her in a good way, or a bad way? She’d said “lovely,” so that was good, right?

“And your property is beautiful,” Vanessa added.

“Thank you. Lucy’s transformed it.” Elliott praised the beaming blonde. Looking back, she asked politely, not knowing what else to ask a pastor, “How long have you been at the… church?”

Vanessa exchanged a smile with her husband before answering, “Almost twenty years. I came here for a work conference and met this man when I ducked in to join service.”

Rick picked up the story. “She says ‘ducked’ because it was raining.”

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