his size, the rise and fall of his chest, the warm burn of his skin on mine. Electricity tingled along my scalp, and I shuddered with pleasure.
“It’s called a shower …,” I began automatically, then trailed off. My memory snagged, taken aback by a compelling and forceful sense of undue familiarity. “Soap, shampoo, hot water,” I added, almost as an afterthought.
“Naked. I know the drill,” Jev said, something unreadable passing over his eyes.
Unsure how to proceed, I attempted to wash away the moment with an airy laugh. “Are you flirting with me, Jev?”
“Does it feel that way to you?”
“I don’t know you well enough to say either way.” I tried to keep my voice level, neutral even.
“Then we’ll have to change that.”
Still uncertain of his motives, I cleared my throat. Two could play this game. “Running from bad guys together is your idea of playing getting-to-know-you?”
“No. This is.”
He dipped my body backward, drawing me up in a slow arc until he raised me flush against him. In his arms, my joints loosened, my defenses melting as he led me through the sultry steps. His muscles flexed under his clothes, holding me, leading me. Never letting me stray far.
My knees felt rubbery, but not from dancing. My breathing came faster, and I knew I was treading down a slippery slope. Being this close to Jev, skin brushing, legs touching lightly, gazes connecting briefly in the dark, it was all blind sensation and intoxicating heat. A strange jumble of nervous exhilaration, I pulled away, but not too hard.
“I don’t have the body for this,” I quipped, lifting my chin at a voluptuous woman nearby who shook her hips zealously to the beat. “No curves.”
Jev’s eyes held mine. “Are you asking my opinion?”
I flushed. “I asked for that.”
He tipped his head down, his breath warming my skin. His lips grazed my forehead with featherweight pressure. I shut my eyes, trying to hold back the absurd desire for him to move his mouth lower, until it found my own.
“Jev—,” I wanted to say. Only his name didn’t escape.
The sliver of air between our mouths was a vivid presence, teasing and tempting. He was so close, my body attuned to his in a way that both frightened and marveled. I waited, leaning into his embrace, my breath light with anticipation.
Suddenly his body grew taut. The spell broke, the gap between us irrevocably widening, and I stepped back.
“We’ve got company,” Jev said.
I tried to pull completely away, but Jev tightened his hold on me, forcing me to keep up the pretense of dancing. “Stay calm,” he murmured, his cheek brushing my forehead. “Remember, if they look at you, they’re going to see blond hair and combat boots. They’re not going to see the real you.”
“Won’t they expect you to tamper with their minds?” I tried to catch a glimpse of the doorway, but several taller men in the crowd blocked me. I couldn’t tell if Hank’s men were advancing or lingering by the doors, watching.
“They didn’t get a good look at me, but they saw me jump from the third floor of the warehouse, which will tell them I’m not human. They’ll be looking for a guy and a girl together, but that could be any number of couples in here.”
“What are they doing now?” I asked, still unable to see past the crowd.
“Having a look around. Dance with me and keep your eyes off the doors. There are four of them. They’re spreading out.” Jev swore. “Two are heading this way. I think we’ve been made. The Black Hand trained them well. I’ve never met a Nephil who could see through a trance within the first year of swearing fealty, but they just might pull it off. Walk toward the bathrooms and take the exit at the end of the hall. Don’t walk too fast, and don’t look back. If anyone tries to stop you, ignore them and keep walking. I’m going to head them off to buy us time. I’ll meet you in the alley in five.”
Jev went one way and I went the other — with my heart in my throat. I elbowed my way through the crowd, the heat of too many bodies and my own nervous adrenaline making my skin moist. I veered into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, which, judging by the rancid smell and the swarm of flies, were anything but sanitary. There was a long line, and I had to edge sideways around each person, muttering a hurried, “Excuse me.”
As Jev promised, a door appeared at the end of the hallway. I pushed through it and found myself outside. Wasting no time, I broke into a jog. I didn’t think it was a good idea to stand in the open, choosing instead to hide behind the Dumpsters until Jev came for me. I was halfway down the alley when the door swung open behind me.
“Over there!” a voice shouted. “She’s getting away!”
I looked back only long enough to confirm they were Nephilim. Then I took off. I didn’t know where I was going, but Jev would have to find me elsewhere. I raced across the street, heading back to where we’d abandoned the Tahoe. When Jev didn’t find me in the alley, hopefully his car was the next place he’d think to look.
The Nephilim were too fast. Even at a full sprint, I could hear them closing in. Everything came ten times easier to them, I realized with increasing panic. When they were only moments away from seizing me, I whirled around.
The two Nephilim slowed, instantly wary of my intentions. I shifted my eyes between them, breathing heavily. I could keep running and draw out the inevitable. I could put up a fight. I could scream bloody murder and hope Jev heard. But every option felt like grasping at straws.
“Is it her?” the shorter one asked with a formal accent that sounded British. He eyed me shrewdly.
“It’s her,” the taller, an American, confirmed. “She’s using a trance. Focus on one detail at a time, the way the Black Hand taught us. Her hair, for instance.”
The shorter Nephil squinted at me so intently I wondered if he could see all the way through to the bricks on the building behind me. “Well, well,” he said after a moment. “Red, is it? I preferred you blond.”
With inhuman speed, they were at my sides, each gripping an elbow so hard I winced. “What were you doing in the warehouse?” the taller Nephil asked. “How did you find it?”
“I—,” I began. But I was too terrified to think up a plausible lie. They weren’t going to believe me if I said sheer dumb luck was responsible for my stumbling through their window in the middle of the night.
“Cat got your tongue?” the shorter said, tickling under my chin.
I jerked away.
“We have to take her back to the warehouse,” the taller one said. “The Black Hand or Blakely will want to question her.”
“They won’t be back till tomorrow. Might as well get some answers now.”
“What if she doesn’t talk?”
The shorter Nephil licked his lips, something frightening lighting up his eyes. “We’ll make sure she does.”
The taller Nephil frowned. “She’ll tell them everything.”
“We’ll wipe her memory when we’re done. She won’t know the difference.”
“We’re not strong enough yet. Even if we could erase half of it, it wouldn’t be enough.”
“We could try devilcraft,” the shorter suggested with a disturbing gleam in his eyes.
“Devilcraft is a myth. The Black Hand made that clear.”
“Oh yeah? If the angels in heaven have powers, it makes sense the demons in hell should too. You say myth, I say potential gold mine. Imagine what we could do if we got our hands on it.”
“Even if devilcraft exists, we wouldn’t know where to start.”
The shorter Nephil wagged his head in irritation. “Always one for fun, you are. Fine. We make sure our stories match. Our word against hers.” He counted down his suggested version of the night’s events on his fingers. “We chased her from the warehouse, found her hiding in the club, and while dragging her back, she got scared and spilled everything. It won’t matter what she says happened. She already broke into the warehouse. If anything, the
