Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(39)

Only another bike-man could understand his rising fury.

“If you put so much as a scratch on my bike, I’ll rip off your wings.”

The idiotic demon folded his arms over his chest, trying to pretend he wasn’t dangling by one horn.

“I will have you know I did you a favor. That . . .” He struggled for the proper word. “Death trap was not fit for the road.” He waved a hand toward the Fiesta. “While this is obviously a classic.”

“I’ll kill you—” Roke began, knowing beyond a doubt the jackass had destroyed his pride and joy.

But even as his power swirled through the air there was a light touch on his arm. Instantly he was distracted, his entire being focused on the exquisite woman at his side.

It was . . . unnerving.

As if she had become hardwired to his emotional grid.

“Could we fight about this later?” she asked softly.

“Oui,” the gargoyle hurriedly agreed. “Later.”

He met Sally’s dark gaze, giving a slow nod of his head. “Fine. We’ll take this until we can find something better.”

He moved to pull open the passenger door of the sorry excuse for a car, settling Sally before moving to the driver’s side. He was about to slide behind the steering wheel when he halted to grab the gargoyle who was hopping into the backseat.

“Not you,” he growled.

“Roke,” Sally chastised.

This time he refused to be distracted. The damned pest had destroyed a quarter-of-a-million-dollar bike.

He was lucky he was still in one lumpy piece.

“He can stay behind and disguise our trail,” he said, holding Levet’s gaze so there would be no misunderstanding.

“But—”

“I am, as ever, delighted to play the role of knight in shining armor,” Levet interrupted Sally’s protest, backing away with a speed that revealed he wasn’t entirely stupid. “It does appear to be my destiny.”

“Christ,” Roke muttered, stuffing his six-foot-plus frame into the car.

“Au revoir, mademoiselle, I shall rejoin you in Chicago,” the gargoyle called as Roke swiped his fingers over the steering column, sparking the engine to life.

They chugged out of the garage, Roke cursing the pathetic vehicle while Sally automatically fastened her seat belt.

Once away from the town, he pressed the accelerator to the floor, not surprised when the car barely managed to hit the speed limit.

Still, they were headed in the right direction, and at least for now there wasn’t a fey or weird-ass demon in sight.

Hitting the main road leading south, Roke glanced toward his oddly silent companion, his heart clenching with concern at the tension that tightened her pale profile.

“Sally, are you hurt?”

Her gaze remained trained on the narrow road. “I’m tired.”

He resisted the urge to trace the pure line of her throat. He’d always possessed a perfect, ruthless control. It’d been the only way to survive as his clan collapsed around him.

But now he was on edge, his nerves raw and exposed. He wasn’t sure he could touch Sally without offering more than simple comfort.

“Then rest,” he murmured, his voice thick with a hunger that was increasingly difficult to ignore.

“No.” She shivered, waving a hand toward the windshield. “I meant I’m tired of this.”

He frowned, scanning the empty countryside.

“Perhaps you should be more specific.”

Her hand dropped, as if she were too weary to hold it up.

“The running. The hiding.” She rested her head against the side window. “The never feeling safe.”

His gut twisted. She sounded so . . . defeated.

Nothing at all like his stubborn, spit-in-the-face-of-death witch.

“Sally, we’ll figure this out,” he assured her, slowing the car to make sure he didn’t hit a bump that would bang her head against the window.

At the moment she didn’t look capable of protecting herself from the smallest hurt.

“You think so?” she whispered.

“You don’t?”

She gave a lift of one shoulder, silent for so long that Roke thought she had fallen asleep.

Then softly her words filled the small space.

“After my mother tried to kill me I swore that I would never be a victim again. That’s why I became a disciple for the Dark Lord. I was convinced I would be protected.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “You know how that turned out for me.” Roke watched the pain ripple over her delicate face and he was fairly certain that he knew only a small fraction of what it had cost her to pledge her soul to the evil bastard. “Then I stupidly turned to the vampires for help only to end up locked in the dungeons and mated to you.” Her hand shifted to rub her inner arm. The mating mark. “Of course, I couldn’t be satisfied with those major screwups. I had to go in search of my father, like I thought I could actually accomplish something.” Another of those sharp laughs. “Now look at me. I’m some sort of fey-magnet and on the run again. You were right. I am a walking disaster.”

Roke floundered.

He wasn’t a touchy-feely guy.

Hell, the thought of touchy-feely made him break out in hives.

But he couldn’t bear the wistful resignation that was pulsing through his bond with Sally.