The Darkest Whisper

“That’s right. You’re staying here.” The words with me weren’t said, but then, he didn’t have to say them. His meaning was clear. “I haven’t lived in Buda long, haven’t stayed in this room much, but it’s mine.” As are you. Again, unsaid but there.

Gwen sat on the edge of an unfamiliar yet opulent bed in an unfamiliar yet terrifyingly masculine bedroom in an unfamiliar yet massive fortress with a very familiar yet fascinating man she had kinda sorta kissed and wanted to kiss again but couldn’t because he wanted nothing to do with her. And really, it wasn’t her that craved the kiss but the Harpy. At least, that’s what she told herself. The Harpy liked dangerous and dark, and demonic Sabin certainly fit the bill.

Gwen liked staid bordering on boring.

She watched as the completely unstaid Sabin unpacked his bag, his movements as stiff as his tone had been. His distance is for the best, she told herself. For the Harpy’s benefit, of course. Kissing the intoxicating and infuriating Sabin again would not have been wise. He was too intense, too much a mystery for her peace of mind. But damn, he was sexy—the act of unpacking, even as torqued as he clearly was, practically foreplay. The way his muscles moved…

Stop watching him. Not like you can start a relationship with him. Who’d said anything about starting a relationship? As afraid as she was of her dark side, Gwen had always been the get-in- get-what-you-want-and-get-out type of girl. Her six-month commitment to Tyson had been an anomaly.

What was Tyson doing now? Was he with someone else? Married, even? And how would she feel if he was? Did he ever think of her? Ever wonder where she was or why she’d been abducted? She should probably call him.

Mind on the task at hand. “Why do I have to share your room?” she asked Sabin.

“Safer this way.”

For who? Her? Or his friends? The thought depressed her. Oh, it was good that the men feared her. They’d leave her alone. But demons finding her too lethal to hang with? It should have been laughable. “I already promised to stay in Budapest. I’m not going to run.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Her eyes narrowed on him, her lashes fusing together. His clipped replies were annoying. “Do you have a girlfriend like the others? A wife?” Bitch, she couldn’t help but think. “I’m sure she’ll have something to say about this situation.”

“I don’t. And if I did, it wouldn’t matter.”

She gaped at him, positive she had misheard. “Wouldn’t matter? Why? Your girlfriends aren’t worthy of your kindness or consideration?”

His knuckles were tight around a velvet bag of…throwing stars? They clanged together ominously as he walked them to a chest and locked them inside. A second velvet bag he left anchored at his waist. “I’ve never cheated on a lover. I’m faithful, always. But the war comes before anyone’s feelings. Every time.”

Wow. Battle before love. Without a doubt, he was the most unromantic male she’d ever met. Even more so than her great-grandfather, who had laughingly burned her great-grandmother to death after she’d given birth to Gwen’s grandmother. Gwen’s head tilted to the side as she studied Sabin more intently. “Would you cheat on your girlfriend if it helped you win the war?”

Back at his suitcase, he lifted a pair of combat boots. “What does that matter?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Then yes.”

She blinked in surprise. One, he hadn’t sounded apologetic. Two, he hadn’t hesitated. “Yes, as in you would?”

“Yes. I would. If cheating meant gaining a victory, I would cheat.”

Double wow. His honesty…depressed her. He was a demon, but she’d somehow expected—wanted? — more from him. No way would she be able to date a man who might cheat. Not that she planned to date Sabin.

Gwen wanted to be the one and only. Always. Sharing had never been easy for her; it went against every instinct she and the others of her race possessed. That’s why she’d finally pushed past her fears and accepted a relationship with Tyson.

To her knowledge, he had been faithful to her. The sex had been good, if tame, because, while she might have convinced herself she could handle a relationship, she’d known losing herself to pleasure would be disastrous. He’d loved her, at least, and she thought she’d loved him. Now, thanks to all these months apart, she realized she’d only loved what he’d represented: normalcy. Plus, they were very similar. He worked for the IRS and was hated by his peers. She was a Harpy who despised confrontation and was pitied by her race. Similarity, though, was not a good enough reason to stay together. Not forever.

Gwen had a feeling she would be able to let go—somewhat at least—with Sabin. He hadn’t backed down from her Harpy either in the cavern or on the plane. And strong as he was, he could take more than a human. But even though he was both brave and immortal, she doubted he could take everything she dished. No one could.

Still, she found herself wondering what he’d be like in bed. Not tame, that much she could guess. He’d get down and dirty and insist on the same from his lover. How much could he take from her?

“So you don’t have a wife, but are you currently single?” she asked, the words a croak. She couldn’t imagine anyone being crazy enough to date him. Yeah, he was handsome. Yeah, his kisses alone would take a woman to the gates of heaven. But momentary pleasure with him would only result in heartbreak. Surely she wasn’t the only one to realize that.

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Just filling the silence.” A lie. It seemed she was full of them lately. She’d been—was still, despite everything—beyond curious about him, this warrior who had saved her.

“Nothing wrong with silence,” he grumbled, head nearly inside his bag.

“Are you single or not?”

“I liked you better when you were afraid of, well, everything,” he muttered.

She had been less timid around him than usual, she realized. Seeing the love his friends possessed for their women must have empowered her somehow. For the moment, at least. “Well? Single?”

He sighed, clearly giving up. “Yes, I’m single.”

“I can believe it,” she muttered. His last girlfriend had probably dumped him on his ass. “Well, that doesn’t mean we can bunk together. You’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep because I’m taking the bed.” Brave words. She just hoped he didn’t call her bluff.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be on the floor.” He threw several wrinkled shirts into the laundry basket beside the closet. A demonic warrior sorting laundry; now there was something you didn’t see every day.

“What if I don’t trust you to remain there?”

He laughed, and it was a cruel sound. “Too bad. I’m not leaving you alone all night.”

Not comforting. He hadn’t vowed to stay away from her, and he hadn’t claimed to want nothing to do with her sexually.

Did he?

And did she want him to?

She studied his profile, gaze traveling the length of his nose. It was a little longer than what was considered average, but regal because of it. His cheekbones were sharp, his jaw square. Overall, a very rough-looking face, with no hint of the boyishness she’d sometimes imagined.

His eyes, though, were heavily, almost femininely, lashed. She hadn’t noticed that before, she realized, but those lashes were so thick his eyes appeared lined in soot.

Drawing her arms around her middle, she tore her gaze from that intriguing face and focused on his body. All those muscles…Again she found herself fascinated by them. Veins throbbed in his biceps as he lifted a shaving kit. The black leather and metal links of his man-bracelet hugged the thickness of his wrist. His long legs ate up the distance to the bathroom. Hopefully he’d take off his shirt and she’d get another peek at those ropes of muscle.