24
WILLOW
Iwoke slowly, pressing up to sit. My body hummed with warmth as I looked around the empty room. The door to the bedroom was closed, the room unfamiliar except for the fuzzy haze of being brought here when I’d been in pain.
I touched a hand to my ribs, finding nothing but smooth, unblemished skin when I twisted to look at it. The memory of Gray’s blood came over me quickly, making me queasy with the reality of what that might mean.
The area between my legs throbbed with need, as if the blood he’d given me had only amplified the desire he’d created in me before. I wanted to tear his throat out. I wanted to tear his clothes off.
The fact that I wasn’t even sure which one I wanted more terrified me.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pausing for a moment to glare down at my ruined shirt. The buttons were missing, and I found one on the floor as I looked around. With a scoff, I tugged it off my shoulders and tossed it onto the bed behind me. Making my way to his closet, I helped myself to one of his dress shirts, slipping it on over my shoulders and buttoning it slowly.
It was so long it covered my skirt entirely, so I unzipped the stiff green fabric and shoved it down my thighs. I couldn’t stand to wear Susannah’s house colors for another moment. It gathered at my feet, leaving me to step out of it and toss it onto the bed with my ruined shirt. With only my thigh-highs and Gray’s shirt, I swallowed as I moved to the door and pried it open to peek out.
The seating area was empty, so I pulled the door open wider and stepped out. I ran my fingers over the back of the sofa as I moved, glancing at the books covering his coffee table. I wouldn’t have pegged the immortal being for a reader, but there was no denying the way they were littered around his space.
“Are you looking for something in particular, Witchling?” he asked, his voice coming from the alcove where I knew his desk was. I moved toward it slowly, a flush creeping up the back of my neck as I tried to will theneedin my body to just die already. The depth of his voice did something to me, sending a pang of want through me, which I felt with every step.
“Something sharp and pointy, preferably,” I said as I strode toward the alcove. I touched my hand to the wall as I curved around it, feeling the moment his gaze settled on me.
He dropped his pen to the desk, leaning back in his chair as he stared at me. “Are you sure about that? Helping yourself to my shirt, I would be inclined to say you’re looking for something to gag on.”
My mouth dropped open, an incredulous laugh tearing free from my throat. Of all the things he could have said…
That was the last thing I expected.
He grinned as he stood from his chair, stepping around the edge of the desk to approach me. He stopped in front of me, making no move to touch me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his forehead pinching as if he were genuinely concerned.
I swallowed, my discomfort growing beneath the weight of that gaze. Only the bargain, I reminded myself. He needed me to stay alive and to do his job to keep me safe, or there would be consequences for him.
It was nothing more than the bargain.
“Better,” I whispered, my voice raw.
He reached behind him, plucking a tumbler off his desk and handing it to me. I took a delicate sip of the amber liquid, trying to let it bolster me.
“Water would have been more appropriate if you’re nursing me back to health.”
Gray shrugged, taking the tumbler and turning it in his grip. He made sure to take a sip from the exact same place I had, the intimacy of the intention behind that making me squirm.
“You look healthy enough to me,” he said, smirking as he set it on top of the desk.
I shifted on my feet, feeling uncomfortable. “Thank you. For coming for me. For keeping her from…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought. It was horrific to think of what she might have done if Gray hadn’t come when he had.
“I’ll always come for you, Witchling,” he said, holding my stare for a moment.
Those blue eyes glimmered with something that felt likemore, stealing the breath from my lungs for a suspended moment in time. The gold seemed to flash; the twisted connection between us pulling taut.
Then he ruined it, turning his stare away and touching the underside of my chin. “Can’t have you being the one to give me orders, now, can I?”
I grimaced, the reminder serving its purpose. Grounding me in the reality.
Love wasn’t in the cards for me. Not with a witch, and definitely not with a Vessel. We could and would work together, but this was nothing more than a business arrangement between two people who hated each other.
Even if we wanted to rip one another’s clothes off.