Sweet Reckoning (The Sweet Trilogy, #3)(24)

Was it the sons of Thamuz? Kope had hurt one of them pretty badly—I couldn’t imagine they’d be on the go already. Hotel staff wouldn’t knock at the door this early. It had to be a Neph or Duke. Whisperers must have found me while I slept. Was it Marek and Caterina again? With great effort I forced my extended hearing outside the door and whispered, “Who is it?”

“Kaidan Rowe. Son of Pharzuph.”

My breath stuck and my internal organs somersaulted. It was his voice. But why did he sound so formal? And what the heck was he doing here? I sprinted to the entrance—no peephole!

I stood in front of the door, shaking. “What do you want?”

“I need to speak with you. Open up.”

Either it was really him, and something horrible was happening, or someone was doing a dang good impersonation.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He spoke softly, but his tone sounded dangerous.

I didn’t want to be scared of Kaidan. My Kai. But instincts made me clutch the knife harder.

Swallowing down the moisture of emotion, I turned the doorknob. When I pulled the door open, my heart soared. It was definitely Kaidan, looking like he’d been up all night. His chin-length brown hair hung disheveled around a blast of bright blue eyes and a hardened face. Next to him, hovering with a malicious grin, was a whisperer.

I was confused, nervous, elated, sickened. He’d brought a whisperer straight to me . . . or perhaps the whisperer had led Kaidan. The human panty thief hadn’t worked. Neither had Marek or Caterina or the sons of Thamuz. So the Dukes sent Kaidan. That fact made me relieved in one major sense—they must not be suspicious of him. He was safe, for now.

So, what was Kaidan’s plan?

My pulse would not settle. Kaidan grabbed the edge of the door over my shoulder and stepped forward, moving us both into the room.

I realized I’d completely let down my guard when I felt his hand wrap around mine, successfully snapping my knife shut and slipping it into his own pocket. He gave the “flashlight” a funny look before pulling it from my grasp and dropping it to the floor. The door shut, and the whisperer pushed its way through it, watching as Kaidan backed me against the wall.

With the spirit watching, I had to pretend I didn’t love him, just as he was doing, even if it hurt. In normal life I couldn’t stomach lying. But where whisperers and Dukes were concerned, all bets were off.

I put my palms on Kaidan’s chest and straightened my arms, giving him my fiercest look. His red starburst pumped.

“Back off, son of Pharzuph,” I warned.

A predatory grin spread across his handsome face, and the repulsive whisperer sidled closer.

“I’m only here as a precaution,” Kaidan crooned. “To be sure our little daughter of Belial is behaving properly.” His voice sounded as it had during our first meetings—contemptuous and dark. It was so appropriate that they’d sent him, the son of Lust, to make sure I wasn’t a virgin. Letting my lust for him overcome me was something I could not do. If the heavenly hilt, the Sword of Righteousness, sensed any lack of purity of heart, it wouldn’t allow me to wield it. I had to be angelic to use an angel relic.

“I heard you don’t even like Neph girls,” I countered.

He laughed, swishing hair from his eyes with a flick of his head and stepping forward again. “I don’t. But I’m willing to make sacrifices for the greater evil.”

I swallowed hard. He was convincing. Too convincing.

He’s just putting on a show, I told myself.

“So, what are you saying?” I asked. “The Dukes don’t think I’m working? Is that why they’re sending every Neph to question me and fight me?”

His pause at my mention of other Neph was minuscule, but I knew him well enough to catch it.

“Just covering all the bases. They know you’re pushing alcohol, but you weren’t exactly a well-rounded worker at that summit, yeah?”

“That was a year and a half ago,” I ground out. “I’m very well-rounded now.”

“Prove it.”

His mouth hit mine with a wave of warm, citrusy pheromones and his body pressed me to the wall. I’d forgotten about my shoulder blade until a dull crest of pain coursed through me, and I whimpered. I felt him hesitate, as if he might stop to ask what was wrong, but then he kept going.

I wanted to sink into the touch of him, but a disgusting gurgling purr sounded in my brain from the whisperer, who was watching way too closely. Kaidan broke from the kiss long enough to glare at the spirit.

“Bit of a turnoff when you do that,” he told it. “Mind shutting up?” The whisperer snarled, and Kaidan was kissing me again—hard, firm kisses.

This was nothing like the making out we’d done at his apartment in L.A. He was all physical business now—nothing more. I trusted him, but my feelings wavered as clothes began to shed. He took his shirt off in one swift move. When he reached for my shirt, I wanted so badly to stop him because I wasn’t wearing a bra. I forced myself not to protest or cover myself as he unceremoniously yanked the top over my head and kissed my mouth again, roughly, pure lust, our bare chests touching.

The desperate, self-conscious part of me wondered what he thought of my body. It was strange not to have him taking time to savor me like I knew he could. Like I knew he enjoyed.

At that moment I imagined I could smell the rancid breath of the whisperer in our space, making me bitter and nervous. We had to get that thing away from us.