Page 19 of Deadly Sights

I don’t even let him open his mouth to voice his disappointment. I look over his shoulder and blink away the sorrow dragging my spirit down.

“How about I make you a promise?” he offers. “If you suspect you’re remembering anything, I’ll provide context to the best of my ability.” He presses our foreheads together. “I don’t want to watch you suffer alone or in silence.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

Julian pinches his lips into a thin line and peers above my head. “Hmm. What would you call watching someone writhing in pain as they sleep?” He spears me with a pointed stare. “There’s only one reason for the demons visiting you at night, and it’s not our profession.”

I stiffen at the many implications he’s revealed. He can’t know me so well, which means, “So you didn’t stop at breaking into my place to reorganize everything and feed me. You’ve been spying on me.”

A humorless smile flits across his lips. “Watching over you. Something people do for the important people in their lives.”

I glance away, no longer able to maintain eye contact under his earnestness.

However, Julian places my palm over his heart, returning my attention to him albeit reluctantly. “You are not alone, and I’m not okay with doing something that can do you more harm than good.”

His pledge, like so many declarations he makes, sounds like a foregone conclusion; indestructible and one that binds us to a lifetime. I squash the thought, and the pang of loss as I resolve myself against his intentions. Maybe if I address the sexual tension between us with one night, we can part ways as amicably as possible. Although I won’t rule out killing him in the future.

Fuck and kill, that will totally work in quelling the heat from rising between your thighs whenever he shows up.

I shake my head of the thought. I’m not here to lust after Julian or allow his sweet intentions, which don’t seem totally innocent, to sway me from my task. I’m on the job and can’tafford his kind of distraction. Despite my resolve, I stay in his arms and allow him to lead me on the dance floor.

Although the song transitions to a fast-paced number, he continues to slow-dance with me, swaying us in time to the rhythm in his head. The chatter from the guests fades, as do the couples sharing the floor with us. As often as I’ve fought him, nothing but acceptance shines through his eyes, making my decision to ignore any underlying messages almost impossible.

Julian could be the one man I won’t have to fear discovering my secrets. And that shit scares me more than the possibility of losing my closest friends for the same reason. But there’s no time to let fear take over when he wraps my arms around his neck and encloses me in his massive arms. His scent of citrus and pine washes over me, replacing my fledgling alarm with a sense of peace.

Song after song plays with Julian keeping me close. I should object to the attention he draws toward us because he doesn’t switch up the pace of our dancing to match the upbeat songs, but I have no will left to pull away from his embrace. When others attempt to dance with me, he pointedly glares at them until they make a beeline to someone else. For the boldest ones, he clutches me closer and says, “Find your own treasure, I don’t share.” Then he swings us away to another area of the dance floor to monopolize my attention and body.

Why does it make my heart race to glimpse his possessiveness? Maybe it’s because I haven’t been anyone’s treasure before. No one’s. Not even my friends are territorial over my time and affection, and this novel feeling is doing more to me than all the failed dates and relationships from my past.

No one can penetrate the bubble encapsulating us, except the screams coming from the ballroom.

“The show is starting without us,” Julian says as people stampede around our bodies to discover the reason for the screaming.

“I suppose it would be in poor taste to continue dancing when there’s a tragedy happening a few feet away.”

His mouth wobbles as he tries to hide a grin. “The worst taste.” He offers me his hand.

Surprisingly, I take it with no resistance and allow him to lead me off the floor.

“How long do you need to stay to confirm that your job is done?”

“Just long enough to assure myself no intervention will save him.”

We arrive at the mayhem in the ballroom. Because of my height, I’m able to view the action without needing to get too close.

“Where’s the ambulance?” The groom’s mother screams while pressing fresh napkins against her husband’s mouth. But nothing staunches the blood spewing from him. Blood drenches her ecru-colored dress, and a growing pool surrounds them.

Pain and hopelessness twist my target’s face. By now, he must realize that his death is imminent and no miracle can save him. When his eyes start to dull, I step away, granting my space to another curious onlooker.

Julian is by my side before I take too many steps, holding my hand in his. I’m getting used to having his strong fingers enclose mine. As we make our getaway under the sun setting in the sky, I peer at Julian and wonder what kind of person I must have been to inspire this depth of emotion from him. The kind that creates a need to be in contact with me from an innocent handhold to being on the end of my attacks.

To avoid him reading my new determination to discover the person I was before my accident, I keep my eyes glued to thepath ahead of me. Step by step, I plan to uncover what’s missing from my memory.

CHAPTER 10

JULIAN'S SUSPICIONS

Julian

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