Sunlight twinkled on the glass doors of the building. I had Levi. I could curl into him and he’d wrap his arms around me and it would make the finality of this revelation bearable.
Fuck. It was Tuesday morning. He’d be at work. Well, it was better than nothing.
Everything between Talia’s apartment and finding myself standing in front of Veronica’s desk was a blur.
Veronica barely glanced at me, cool and crisp in a pearl-colored sheath dress, her French manicured nails clacking against her keyboard. “Priya has your dog.”
I pushed on my ribcage like that could help me pump air into my lungs.
Frowning, Veronica looked up and properly saw me. Eyes wide, she hit the intercom button. “Ashira—No. Levi. Wait. Damn it.”
His office door was flung open so hard it bounced off the wall. Levi strode up, his body locked up with rage. “That necro fucker went after Mayan.”
“Levi,” Veronica said insistently.
I blinked at him dumbly for a second, willing my brain to switch gears. Then I shook my head at Veronica. “Is she okay?”
He motioned me inside the office and shut the door. “Yeah. He cornered her after work to see if Gunter had finished Alfie off. Mayan tried to go along with it, but Jonah figured out Gunter was gone. He flew into a rage, demanding to know how.”
“Did she tell him about me?” That’s all I needed. An angry necromancer with insider knowledge of my secrets.
“No. She maced him and fled.” He rubbed a hand over his inky black hair, sending it into disarray. “She’s safe now, but I want him locked up. Miles still can’t track him down, so you’ll need to follow up with Moran.”
“Right. Of course. I’ll…” My brain stuttered and went blank. The bolted cylinder lock and set of pick tools were on the coffee table, sitting on top of another Sherlock Holmes collection.
Adam, his large hands guiding my eight-year-old ones: you’ve got to hold the tension wrench steady, little jewel.
There was a ringing in my ears, but I smiled sunnily. “You’re practicing. That’s…good.”
“Ash?” In an instant, all the fury drained out of Levi. He led me to the sofa. “Shit. Was it your dad?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. That ball of grief had spread into my throat like a cancer, choking me. Shaking my head, I curled into him, hanging on for dear life. The only sound was his heartbeat under my cheek and the silent scream in my head.
“Ah, bella,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
Words were still beyond me. I leaned in and kissed him, trying to pour out my drowning sorrow, crumbling inside.
“Wait.” He stood up and I grasped at his shirt. “I’m coming back,” he said. He locked the door and returned to me. “Can you talk about it?”
I shook my head at him. I couldn’t let it out. Not yet, when it threatened to consume me. I kissed him again, a soft brush of our lips. Longing and stark need whispered through me, banishing the grief and darkness back the tiniest bit. I clung to that flame slowly kindling to life, my kiss growing more desperate as I yanked him closer by his belt loops.
He wrapped a hand around the nape of my neck, his tongue tangling with mine. When he pulled back, his chest rose and fell in rapid breaths. I reached for him again, but he gently pushed me down against the leather sofa, pressing against me with his hard, lean body, and capturing my mouth in a kiss that stole the breath from my lungs.
Levi made his way down my body with hot, open-mouthed kisses that burned deliciously even through the fabric of my clothing.
My fingers bunched into the sides of the cushions. I felt like I’d willingly jumped off a cliff, tumbling faster and faster toward him, secure that when I landed, he’d catch me.
Levi popped the button on my jeans, stripping me in one fluid motion. “Forgot to do laundry again, huh?”
I was incapable of banter, turning stricken eyes on him. “Levi.” His name was my anchor and my plea.
“I’ve got you, bella.” He pushed my legs apart and I stuttered out a weak protest.
“If this isn’t doing it for you…” I said.
He sputtered a laugh, his mouth vibrating against my inner thigh. “Beg to differ.” He licked my clit, agonizingly slowly. “God, the taste of you.”
I tensed up, flinging an arm over my face. A soft noise of pain escaped me. What was wrong with me? I should be grieving my dad, not getting off.
Levi tugged my arm away. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. He gave a small shake of his head, no trace of amusement on his face. “Whatever you’re feeling right now is okay. You’re allowed to feel alive.”
I gave a small nod, not sure I believed it, but needing it to be true.
He teased me, kissing and suckling along the insides of my thighs as I squirmed. Finally, I covered them with my hands. “Too ticklish.”
Levi lifted his head. His hair was mussed and his eyes were enormous blue pools, but every ounce of focus was trained on me.
I dragged in a shuddery breath and whispered, “Keep going.”
He licked into me again. Every slow flick of his tongue was a teasing rasp against my clit.
My face flushed, but the warmth on my cheeks was nothing compared to the molten flame stealing through me, a hot bright core lit up like the sun. No, the moon, breaking my grief up into manageable ice floes, swimming through the shadows within.
I fisted my hands in Levi’s hair, wanting him to go faster, and felt him smile. Knowing Levi it was probably a smirk, but the sensation sent a welcome and interesting shiver through me, so I let him have it.
“Please,” I whimpered.
His eyes met
