The suave voice, layered with a sexy lilting accent, finally penetrated my panic.
My body responded without my command, melting into his embrace as he held me close to his muscular chest. His wings curved around me, caressing my bare arms. The scent of sweet, drugging smoke clung to him, cocooning me in bad intentions and wicked promises.
“Killian,” I mumbled into his palm, lips brushing his skin.
He held me for a long moment, body hard with tension at my back. It was so at odds with my instinctual reaction that I finally found the sense to pull away, giving myself a single moment to get composed, sheathing my blades, before facing him.
“What are you doing here?” I pinned him with my best glare, like I hadn’t just swooned in his arms.
His lips twitched as he drank me in, a slow once-over from the tips of my stubby horns down to my leather boots, snagging on the blades strapped around my hips that I’d tried to stab him with.
Apparently, whatever he saw wasamusing.
Just what every girl wanted a man to think about her body.
“I could ask you the same question,” he drawled.
“I asked first.” I crossed my arms, arching a brow at the incubus.
He smirked, and I hated how much it made my lips ache to taste that wicked expression. “I’m here to make sure you’re not doing something reckless.”
I rolled my eyes. “So Rex sent you, huh? I don’t need a babysitter.”
He quirked a brow. “You were being charged by dinner.”
“I had it under control.” My fingers twitched to grab my knives again and show him just how well I could look after myself.
He chuckled. “Sure, sweetness. Your cute little blades were definitely not going to get your pretty face gouged.”
My scowl deepened, and I furiously ignored the dumb, girly part of me that preened because he’d called me pretty. He’d also called that feline menace who’d broken into my house pretty, so I guessed it didn’t mean much.
“They’re laced.” I swiped one of my red-lined blades and threw it up. It completed its arc, tumbling end over end, and I plucked it from the air, pointing it towards Killian. “I would have had dinner roasting over a fire by now if not for you startling it with a flash of your weird pigeon wings.”
He smirked, flexing said wings so the edge feathers fluttered. They were stunning, almost glowing under the moonlight.
“What was your plan, kid? You’re just going to run off to the human realm on your own and find mages who might be as likely to hurt you as help you?” Rage simmered in his silvered eyes, his usual bad boy charm turning deadly serious. Darkness bled through his wings, a slow ombre starting from the arches like he’d spilled ink down their angelic innocence. “What about the hunters on Earth? They already took you once.”
My claws pricked my palms as I squeezed the hilt of my poisoned blade.
Memories assaulted me. Of fists hitting my flesh. Of my claws dulling on the bars as I tried to fight my way free. The constant screaming. Mine and the other captives’.
“You think I could forget?” I hissed. “Why do you think I need to go alone?”
“Stop being ridiculous.” He scowled, but the blackness only reached the top few inches of his wings.
If they’d turned fully, someone would be about to die. Painfully.
And since I was the only person around, I kinda wanted to avoid triggering the psycho enforcer.
“You wouldn’t understand,” I bit out through clenched fangs. “I can’t see anyone else get hurt again. Not for me.”
Softness dulled his hard expression, and I looked away, unable to face his pity. Slow trails of crimson sap bled down the dark trees surrounding us, oddly mesmerising.
Pitying looks and sad smiles were all I’d been seeing for weeks. Everyone treated me like I was fragile.
They didn’t know it was more than just my body and mind that had been fractured. I shoved my blade roughly back into its sheath.
“Eve…” The enforcer trailed off.