me. Tears stung my eyes and thickened my throat. Just that small bit of action hurt.
“Would you like to rinse off in the—”
“No!” The word shot out my mouth on wings of pure horror. It hurt, but there was no way in hell I was getting back in there, reeking or not. No. Way. Just the idea had my heart leaping wildly. I removed my arm just a little and turned onto my back to face him.
Gently assessing, intelligent eyes stared out from a rugged face blessed by the gods, designed to strike devotion, lust, obsession in the hearts and minds of most living things. Sure, darkness rolled above us, but right then I felt like the sun had finally come out.
Emotions flipped through me, one after another, like the turning pages of a book. I finally managed a swallow and a lame “Hey.”
A slow, crooked grin made a little crescent in his left cheek. “Hi, Charlie.”
7
Hank glanced beyond me to the lake, his smile fading. One hand slipped beneath my knees and the other went around my back. Without a word, he lifted me off the ground.
My hands came around his neck, the skin hot to my cold fingers. His clean scent filled the air as my head fell against his shoulder. The image of Hank’s ex-girlfriend Zara came to mind, all tall and gorgeous and perfect in her siren beauty. As comparisons went, she was probably looking pretty good to Hank right about then. My humiliation increased with every stride he made up the embankment.
My hands slid off his wide shoulders as he set me on my feet, one hand around my waist while opening the car door with the other. Sleek black Mercedes coupe stared back at me. Oh, great. Humiliation complete. “Don’t put me in your car,” I begged in a whisper. “You’ll ruin your seats. Just put me in the back of my Tahoe. I’ll drive when I feel better.”
“They’re just seats, Charlie. It’s not a big deal. I’ll call the chief and see if he can get someone out here to get your truck.”
I slid wet and stiff onto the expensive leather seats, totally grossed out by myself. Hank got in, opened our windows, and then started the car.
I faced away from him, curling toward the door and shaking uncontrollably. My thoughts turned to Nivian. That watery little bitch had tried to drown me. I wanted to choke her with her own damn lake water or, better yet, stake her to the hot sand beneath the blazing sun of the Sahara Desert. Let her dry up until she resembled a tiny piece of sylph jerky.
Imagining revenge, however, didn’t make me feel better.
I watched the miles go by, letting my mind drift to one vague thought after another. The mark on my shoulder stayed warm, the heat seeping into my cold limbs. By the time we pulled into my driveway in Candler Park, my tremors had become minor.
Hank turned off the engine and got out. I reached for the door handle, but it slipped rather violently from my weak fingers. Frustration flared; I was so tapped out that I couldn’t even pull a fucking door handle.
My door opened on its own. Hank stood back, one hand on the top of the car as he bent down to extend me his other hand.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, sliding my hand into his. He hauled me from the car. As soon as my full weight settled into my legs, my knees gave way.
“Whoa,” Hank said, picking me up and shutting the car door with his foot.
“Anyone home?” he asked.
“No, Rex and Emma went shopping and Brim is in the kennel.”
Hank used his own key, the one I’d exchanged with him a long time ago, opened the door, and took me straight up the stairs and into my bathroom, where he set me on the counter and then turned on the water in the tub.
“Shower or bath?” He glanced over his shoulder.
I stared at him. I hadn’t seen him in a week and suddenly he was here, his six-foot-four frame filling my bathroom, and taking care of me like it was the most natural thing in the world and I didn’t reek like a sewer.
“Earth to Charlie.”
“Oh, um, shower.” I needed to stand, to get the strength back into my legs.
Hank adjusted the water temperature, turned on the shower, and closed the curtain. As he straightened, I was thrown back to a similar situation when I’d stabbed him with the Throne Tree branch and he’d been unable to get into his bathroom on his own or undress himself. He’d relied on me. He hadn’t told me to go, to leave and not see him so weak. He let me in, and I suppose that was a form of trust after all. For all he didn’t tell me about his past, I knew he did trust me with his present.
“Could you …?”
He didn’t blink, didn’t register any kind of emotion, just stepped closer, grabbed the hem of my shirt, and pulled it over my head. He tossed the nasty thing into the corner and then stood me up to help with my pants. I was so shaky and weak; I grabbed both of his shoulders for support as he knelt down and took on the difficult job of trying to peel off my wet pants.
“For the record,” he said, looking up at me with a crooked smile, “this is
“That confident, are we?”
His smile filled out, deep and brimming with humor. “When something is this inevitable. Yes.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. I pulled one leg free and then the other.
He tossed my wet pants into the pile with the rest of my soiled clothes, then turned back and froze. “You’re wearing SpongeBob underwear.”
Shit.
My gaze flew downward and my mortification was finally complete. “Emma got them for me … for my birthday.” What the hell. Might as well get it over with. I turned around. “Patrick is on my ass.”
God, it was so ridiculous. I glanced over my shoulder to see him grinning like a damn fool. Our laughter came at the same time, his rich and easy and mine scratchy and hoarse. When it died, we stood there in an odd moment when comfort and tension seemed to exist in tandem.
“I can take off the voice-mod, Charlie.” His voice dropped. “I can make you feel better with a word.”
A hot flush burst low in my belly. The steam from the shower was taking all the oxygen out of the room. Or maybe that was Hank. I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d say. How it would feel.
“No.” The word came out high and broken. I cleared my throat. “I’ll heal. I’ll be fine. I can handle it from here.” I wrapped my arms around my bare midriff, starting to shiver again. “If you want to clean up, you can use the bathroom downstairs. There are clean shirts of Will’s in my closet …”
“Thanks.” He lingered at the door. “You need help getting into the shower?”
I shook my head. “Nice try, siren.” He flashed me a grin and tleft the room.
“You’re not seriously thinking about going through with this. There are three more of those crazy bitches out there,” Rex said in disbelief.
I spooned another bite of hot tomato and orzo soup with shredded chicken into my mouth, savoring the rich, creamy flavor.
Thank God for Rex and his cooking skills; by the time I got out of the shower and came downstairs I was ravenous, my stomach leading me right to the Crock-Pot. He must’ve made the soup this morning before going shopping with Emma. They returned while I was the shower. Em had already scarfed down a bowl and was in the backyard with Brim. Hank was just finishing up his second bowl, and Rex was looking pretty pleased with himself —well, except for the sylph bomb I’d just dropped on him.
I swallowed another bite. “I don’t really see another way, do you? We might’ve been able to wait before, to convince an exorcist outside of the union to come here, but now with the suicides, there isn’t any time.”
“So we just have to sit around and let them nearly kill you? Three more times?”
