The hard depths are filled with anger, but I hold his gaze. We stare at each other for a beat, and I give him a moment to see me and feel me right here in front of him so that the fear and anger drivin’ his reactions can settle.
My fingers draw slow, gentle circles along the sharp lines of his jaw, and I relish in the smoothness of him. In the feel of him. This male who I’ve been attracted to from the very start, who has done nothin’ but try to help me figure out who I really am. This male who just announced that I’m his damn mate. My heart melts at the intensity of his emotion because I know it doesn’t stem from a bad temper, but from the fact that my life was in danger.
“I need you,” I murmur, and finally his eyes soften. “Will you help me get cleaned up?”
I feel his body relax a fraction as my quiet words filter in. I can tell he’s still terribly angry, but it warms me that he’s willin’ to put that behind him for the time bein’ to help me. I drop my hands from his cheeks and thread my fingers through his, givin’ his hand a squeeze. “Come on, Countertop,” I urge, tryin’ to bring out my teasin’ demon again.
My wings stay flexed behind me, like they’re tryin’ to block Jerif’s presence from Flint. It’s as though they have a mind of their own, and they know showin’ Flint Jerif’s face right now is like flashin’ red to a bull.
I look over at the big blue demon, Rafferty. “Would you please show us where we can clean up?” I ask, my tone calm and appreciative.
“Of course,” he tells me with a small smile.
With a wordless hard stare, Rafferty warns Jerif to back off, and the fire demon turns and stalks away. Rafferty sighs and then turns and leads us further into the house, windin’ us through hallways and open spaces and more hallways before he opens a door and directs us into a large warmly-decorated room.
I turn expectantly to Alder, but he stops before comin’ in. “I’ll be right there. I’m going to make a tonic for Delta to help with her injuries and then I’ll come do the same for you,” he tells me.
“Okay,” I tell him with a nod before steppin’ up and pressin’ my lips against his cheek. He’s handlin’ his fury better, but I know he’s just as upset, and I want to reassure him that I’m okay. “Thank you,” I say quietly. He runs a knuckle down my cheek, his honeyed eyes rovin’ over my face before he looks over my shoulder. “Take care of her. I’ll be back soon.”
Flint nods tersely, and then Alder turns and walks away, leavin’ Rafferty standin’ there. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
I nod, but the blue demon’s attention is on the marbleized male at my back. “Flint.”
Instead of answerin’ him, Flint grabs the door and slams it in his face.
My eyebrows rise in surprise as I turn to look at him. “That was a damn good door slam.”
His angry gaze shifts from the closed door to my face, and he lets out a long sigh, his face softening as he looks me over. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Peaches.”
25
Flint doesn’t wait for me to answer before he’s pullin’ me in the direction I assume the bathroom is. I stay quiet, givin’ him time to wind down. If the situation had been reversed, I’d feel the same way. Scared and concerned that he’d gotten hurt, and so pissed at the situation that I’d wanna cream someone’s corn.
I like Delta, but I can’t disagree with Flint and Alder’s assessment that her demons should have returned their calls and done a better job to keep them in the loop.
If I hadn’t chanced upon Alder and Flint at their bar, I’d be who knows where right now. It probably was only a matter of time before the Ophidian found me. And from what I’ve experienced and heard so far, that would be a very, very bad thing. Add that frustratin’ situation to the fact that we were just attacked...yeah, no wonder my marble demon snapped.
Flint walks into a shower that’s the size of my bedroom back home and turns it on. The entire bathroom is crisp, white, and clean, givin’ off a sense of serenity. Flint moves around in it like a dark cloud ready to storm on anythin’ and everythin’ in his path. He strips off his shirt, droppin’ it on the ground as he closes the distance between us and looks me over.
His dark eyes focus on my hand, the one with blood all over it that I used to press part of my T-shirt to Delta’s chest.
“It’s not mine,” I reassure him, my voice suddenly loud in the pristine space. It bounces off the tiled walls as though the words are doin’ their best to comfort me too, and I release a slow breath. “I think I have some glass in my back, but other than that, I’m okay.”
Flint nods, his jaw grindin’, like he still can’t trust himself to talk. He looks at the pieces of my shirt that are bein’ held together by threads. He examines it for a moment, his gaze makin’ my skin heat in every place it roves. He stares at my wings and apparently comes to the conclusion that there’s no hope for gettin’ this shirt off around them, so he brings his hands up to the fabric and then rips it clean off.
I swear, I feel
