Undead Or Alive (Bad Things #3)(15)

Luke and Leo had taught her that long ago.

The clock on the bedside glowed at her, the bright digits seeming to mock her. Sleep had never seemed farther away. “So…you’re a Reaper.”

He moved in the bed, and the mattress dipped. Her body inched toward him.

“Yeah, I’m a Reaper.”

“You…kill with a touch.” She’d like to be clear on the rules regarding his power.

“It’s one of the things I can do, yes.”

She rolled toward him. Shock rocked through her. In the dark, his eyes glowed.

“I have a few more talents,” he added in that deep rumbly voice of his.

I just bet you do. “The power is focused in your hands? I mean, other parts of your body can touch me—you kissed me—but it didn’t hurt.”

He stared at her.

“Just your hands,” she said again. Important point to know.

“Just my hands. It’s called the Death Touch for a reason.”

Okay… “So why hasn’t someone cut off your hands?” The question tumbled from her and she wanted to wince, but she didn’t because they lived in the paranormal world. The kill or be killed world. And cutting off appendages? It happened with paranormals. It happened a lot.

She knew that from personal experience. Her shoulders seemed to burn.

“Someone did cut off my hands.”

Her mouth seemed to go dry.

“I was six the first time they did it. I was tied up, and my hands were sliced right off.”

Nausea burned in her stomach.

“But they grew back.” He laughed—a dark, rough sound. Evil. “They always come back. You think my enemies haven’t tried to stop my power? They can’t. My hands regenerate. I’m the last of my kind, so that means I’m the most powerful. My enemies wanted to wipe out all of the Reapers, but they couldn’t. I still f*cking stand.”

She found herself reaching out to him in the dark. Another weakness I have. Because she wasn’t just evil on the inside. She wasn’t just drawn to things that were bad.

She had this urge to—to help. To comfort. It was always there, eating away at her. Good and bad, opposites inside of her. One constantly fighting for supremacy over the other.

Amber touched his chest. I was six the first time they did it. “You must have been very afraid.”

“You shouldn’t touch me right now. The shower didn’t help.”

Her hand lingered on his chest. “You were only six…” He wouldn’t have just been afraid. He would have been terrified. Amber wanted to keep comforting him, but her hand moved away. Her fingers fisted. “What happened to the people who hurt you?”

“The same thing that always happens to those who come after me…I killed them.”

She flinched.

“Go to sleep, Amber. You don’t want to know anything else about my past.”

“And I won’t be around to see your future,” she whispered.

They didn’t have a future. She was his bounty, and soon he’d be dropping her off on Luke’s doorstep. She shouldn’t get involved with Cass. The less she knew about him, the better.

But…

Her eyes closed.

He’d just been six years old when they cut off his hands.

A tear slid down her cheek.

***

She’d…cried, for him.

Cass’s gloved hand touched Amber’s cheek, moving very carefully. She was asleep, so he’d moved closer to her. The tear track was nearly dry on her skin now. His index finger followed that faint line.

Strange. Cass didn’t think anyone had ever cried for him.

Maybe the tear wasn’t for me. Maybe she was crying because she’s afraid. Because I’m taking her to the Lord of the Dark. A smart woman would cry when faced with him.

He eased away from her. Cass sat up in the bed.

She slept deeply, her breathing slow and easy.

He reached for the phone and dialed the concierge. So what if it was the middle of the night? The concierge was supposed to be twenty-four seven, right?

“How may I help you?” The voice on the other end of the line inquired in an oh-so-professional voice.

“I want flowers.” His words were low and rasping. He didn’t want to wake Amber. “Can you bring some damn flowers up here?”

“Uh, sir?”

“Roses.” Those were popular, right? “Just bring some roses up here. Have them here by…” He stretched a bit, looking at the clock on Amber’s side of the bed. “Four a.m.” Because he planned to be out of that hotel by five.

“Sir, I don’t think you understand—”

“I’ve got plenty of money,” Cass cut in. “Just bring the damn flowers, okay?” He couldn’t go out and get them, not without having to pull Amber with him.

She wanted flowers. He’d give her flowers.

“And put some chocolate in the vase, okay?” Cass snapped.

“In the vase…with the flowers?”

“Get the freaking things up here.” He hung up the phone. Then he glanced at her, worried she’d woken. Worried she’d laugh at him for even trying— She was still asleep. But…

A whimper came from her. Instantly, he was pulling her closer because she’d sounded scared.