Wasn’t one traitor in his heart enough?
Jumping out of his car after he’d barely parked it in front of her house, he gave Ezra the signal to move in slowly, giving him a few minutes to get inside first. Then he took the steps to her apartment two at a time, trying to calm the rage simmering inside, the cat stalking just below the surface.
Who was she in there with? What were they doing? He’d kill any man who touched her, the thought casting darkness over his mind as his fingers flexed at his sides, willing his claws not to emerge. The cat wanted to break free, to burst through that door and …
She screamed and the sound pierced through the closed door, vibrating down the halls to echo in Rome’s ears. His claws broke free at that moment, his cat roaring even as he lifted his foot and kicked down the door of her apartment. Through the mere slits of his eyes he saw the man with his hands on her, heard her screams and smelled her fear.
Just like before.
The animal in him strained to rip free, to clamp down on the man’s neck until the cracking of his vertebrae signaled his death. Instead the warring human half of him reached out with clawed fingers, grabbing the man by his shoulder and lifting him off the ground with his animalistic strength.
Kalina fell to the floor gasping for breath as Rome stared down the man stupid enough to put his hands on her.
“Who…,” the man stammered then stared at Rome. “Fuck me! You’re one of them. I knew it. I fucking knew it!” He was scrambling for the door, falling over something on the floor.
Rome hurried over, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt until his feet dangled in the air.
“You come near her again and I … will … kill … you.”
“Get off me, you freak! Get the hell off me!”
“Gladly,” Rome growled, tossing him the rest of the way to the door, knocking over a sofa table and all its contents at the same time.
The man hurriedly picked himself up off the floor this time, not daring to look back before running out the door.
Rome turned to Kalina then, fell to his knees, and reached out to touch her. He saw his claws and was about to pull them back when she reached out and grabbed his hands.
“What … who…,” she stuttered then dropped his hands and looked right into his eyes. “It’s you.” Her breaths were coming fast, her chest heaving as she looked from his hands to his face, her gaze imploring, questioning, knowing.
“From my dreams,” she whispered. “You’re the beast.”
Chapter 21
If she’d said she had a contagious disease he probably wouldn’t have jumped up as fast, turning his back on her.
Kalina’s hands were shaking as she planted her palms on the floor then heaved herself up. Her place was a wreck but she really wasn’t caring too much about that at the moment. With slow steps, keeping her eyes on his back, she reached behind her, slipping the gun from her pants. Removing the safety, she lifted it to him.
“Turn around,” she said slowly.
His broad shoulders looked somehow broader. He seemed larger, like he was too big to be in this apartment with all this furniture, and her. He breathed in and out, slowly. Other than that he didn’t move.
“I said turn around,” she said in her best cop voice while trying to keep her hands from shaking.
“Now is not the time.” He spoke in a low gruff voice.
It didn’t sound like him. Like Rome. But then was he really Roman Reynolds or someone … something else?
“Now’s the only time. Turn around so I can see you.” She swallowed hard. “So I can see what you really are. Because I know it’s not—”
He turned slowly and her words died in her throat. He looked … looked like Rome. His forehead was furrowed like he was extremely pissed off. But outside of that everything else looked—normal. He still wore the dark slacks and white dress shirt she’d seen him in earlier.
Her gaze instantly focused on his hands. She’d seen them, claws that ripped through the skin of his fingers. But they were gone. His hands looked normal with blunt-tipped nails and a gold watch at his wrist. Nothing abnormal, strange, unnatural.
But his eyes.
They weren’t right. Not the color and not the shape.
“You were there, weren’t you? Two years ago, it was you.” The accusation sounded damn crazy to her own ears, but deep inside she felt there was some truth to it. There had to be. Part of her trembled but another part pushed to stand tall, to stay focused.
“Tell me the truth,” she said, lifting the gun a little higher to aim right between his eyes. “Open your mouth and tell me who and what the hell you are or I swear I’m shooting your ass where you stand.”
He didn’t flinch or falter, but spoke in a calm rugged voice. “Grab some things and let’s go. You can’t stay here anymore.”
She blinked. Had she heard him correctly? She was the one holding the gun but he was giving the orders.
“This is the last chance for questions and answers. In a minute I’m shooting and I shoot to kill.”
He took a step toward her. “You won’t kill me.”
Kalina widened her stance, flexed her finger on the trigger. “You wanna bet?”
He continued walking toward her, lifting a hand to grab her wrist. “You. Won’t. Shoot. Me.”
His grip wasn’t tight, even though she was positive he had the strength to squeeze the blood through her fingertips. But he didn’t; his fingers just barely grazed her skin. She should have pulled the trigger, should have shot a hole right through his chest. But she couldn’t. It was the unknown that held her still. The unknown that should be scaring the hell out of her, but had her dangerously curious instead.
“Put the gun down and pack some things. I’ll answer your questions but we have to get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving my apartment,” she said, lowering the gun, taking her hand off the trigger, but leaving the safety off. Just in case.
“You don’t have a choice. It’s not safe.”
“You don’t tell me what to do.” It didn’t sound too convincing, but that could have been because she was still entranced by his eyes. They weren’t Rome’s normal brown color, but a vibrant green, like a slice in the center of dark orbs. He blinked and they didn’t change. Something inside her moved—it was as if it turned over and stretched—and she wanted to touch him. At her sides her fingers wiggled with the urge.
“What are you?” she asked again.
“Here’s the deal,” he said, stepping closer, so close that when she inhaled his scent filled her nostrils. Not a cologne scent but something wild, untamed, enticing.
“I’ll answer that question if you agree to get your things and come with me.” He closed his eyes and looked as if he was enduring something immensely painful. She did lift her hand then, touched her fingertips to the line of his jaw.
It was hard, strong. She touched his chin, his nose, brushed her fingers softly over his closed lids. It all felt normal, but not. Heat speared through her body, starting at the pad of her fingers where she touched him, spinning a wicked web throughout her veins until she felt nothing but hunger. Need.
She pulled her hand away and swallowed again. “Answer me.”
“They call us Shadow Shifters.”
She’d turned her head from him and was staring down at the floor, because she was trying to decipher what was going on in her own body.
It was his turn to touch. His fingers lifting her chin, turning her back to face him.
“I am a shape shifter, Kalina. I can shift into—”
