Once Bitten (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #1)(36)

I turned to go, and his hand on my arm made me pause. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer: Please, no temptation. The need to writhe naked in his arms was overpowering me.

“Will I see you tonight?” His hypnotic gaze stared into me, and my knees went weak. I knew what he was really asking. But, it was just power. There was no love behind it.

“Why did you tell Shaz?” The words spilled out of my mouth before I could catch them. I hadn’t really meant to ask.

“How could I not? He found me eating a dog on the side of the road.” Point for him, he had me there. I was just pissed about Shaz finding out from somebody else.

“Just forget it. It doesn’t matter.” I turned to go before he could lure me any farther into the house. “Did you get cleaned up, ok?”

Arys ignored my attempt at casual conversation. He reached around me and opened the front door. Before I could escape, he drew me into a warm embrace and just held me for a long moment.

I feared it would stoke the fire between us, but it didn’t. The embrace was a need that my wolf could not deny.

Arys had a renewed sense of loss and longing that had not been there before. Gently, I disengaged myself from him and touched his cheek. With the barest touch of my lips on his, I turned to go.

After I left Arys’s place, an unexpected flow of hot, guilt ridden tears seized me. I wiped my eyes and knew my mascara had run down my face. Son of a bitch. The last thing I wanted to do was walk into the office all cry–eyed. I’d either get questioned or comforted, or both. I dreaded the thought.

I had this nagging guilt that I couldn’t shake. I had to put my personal life aside. This was time to be professional. Or, as professional as one can be when getting paid to hunt and kill things.

Jez got out of her Jeep as I pulled into the small parking lot. She paused and waited for me to park. Her gold curls were tied up in a high ponytail atop her head, and she wore little makeup. She didn’t need much. She was stunning. I was momentarily envious of how great her long legs looked in blue jeans.

“How’s it going?” She greeted me as she puffed quickly on a cigarette.

“That shit will kill you,” I replied, sounding more like Kale than myself.

“So I hear.” She ground the butt into the driveway with her heel and followed me inside.

On Sundays, the accounting business next door was closed, and the street was blessedly deserted. The only sound was Lilah’s phone ringing down the hall.

Jez gave me a knowing wink and headed to her office, while I turned into the kitchen to make some coffee. I considered going after her to talk about Shaz but decided it could wait. I had an appointment in twenty minutes, so it had to wait.

The coffee began to brew, and I breathed in the wonderful aroma. There is no scent quite like that of fresh coffee.

Jez’s voice carried to me faintly down the hall as she made a phone call. Minutes later, she turned up the steady beat of a heavy metal song. My head ached slightly from my brief crying stint, and I looked to the coffee pot for the solution to my problems. I poured a cup full of steaming coffee, and too lazy to add cream and sugar, padded down to Veryl’s office.

The door was slightly ajar in open invitation. I poked my head in. He would have sensed my approach anyway. He sat behind his old, elaborately designed desk, my favorite piece of décor. Despite the phone pressed to his ear, he inclined his head toward the seat across from him.

Veryl was the type of man that nearly all women find attractive. His short chocolate brown hair was streaked with the barest trace of silver, which only added to his distinguished presence. His clear blue eyes beamed at me as he informed the person on the phone that he had to attend to business.

I knew that I had his undivided attention when his gaze swept over me slowly, agonizingly so. I was dying to spit my questions at him but felt obligated to make small talk first.

“You’re in early tonight.” He commented. His rich voice was deep and melodic. “Expecting somebody?”

I nodded, as I looked at the paintings behind his desk. “Yeah. I figured I’d take it easy tonight after the last few assignments I’ve had. Been a little on the rough side.”

“I think you enjoy it, though.” Veryl’s slightly hawk-like nose was angular and intimidating when paired with the studious expression he now wore. “Standing so close to the flame can be hypnotizing in its draw. It can also kill you. Be careful with that outlook, Alexa. It has destroyed many that I have worked with in the past.”

“I know. I blame my personal life for that,” I offered lamely. When I didn’t say more he knew better than to prompt. Veryl is absolutely the most professional person that I know.

“So what is it that brings you to my office?” He shuffled through the papers on his desk and produced a copy of the day’s paper. He handed it to me.

The headline screamed that police may be after a serial killer after the murders of two women in the past week. I skimmed the article. They referenced Raoul as a suspect, but the write up seemed to be based more on hearsay that factual truths.

“Not this,” I said as I handed the paper back to him. “Raoul didn’t do it. I’ve seen him a few times this past week. I know for a fact he could never have killed Julie Price.”

Veryl shifted languidly in his chair, stretched his arms out, and cracked his fingers with a sound that chilled my bones. “I don’t have to tell you what’s going to happen if he is somehow behind this or if he ends up being convicted.”