Page 41 of City of the Lost
“You’re still awake,” he said.
“Yeah. Noir dropped round and I filled him in on what’s been going on.”
“This late?”
Was there an insinuation in his tone? “I called him up, and he came over.”
“Just like that.”
His tone made me want to grit my teeth. “Yeah, just like that.” I came down a step. “You have a problem with that?”
His lip curled derisively. “No. It’s none of my concern who you fuck.”
His words were a slap, and it was impossible not to flinch, but once the shock was over, anger flooded my veins. “What the fuck is your problem?”
He pressed his lips together and tucked in his chin. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and he brushed it back, almost angrily.
A strange cocktail of annoyance and disappointment churned in my chest. “Hey, I asked you a bloody question.”
He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me.” He raised his head, and the fire bled out of his eyes. “I’m tired.” He climbed the steps and brushed past me.
“I thought you didn’t sleep?” I called up after him, still smarting from his words.
He didn’t respond.
What the heck was his issue? Bloody Shedim and their ragey emotions. I turned to head up the steps and froze as awareness skittered over my scalp. Someone else was here. Someone had slipped through the wards. Noir had already been here, and there was only one other person who could get about without using a damned door.
My heart skipped a beat and then went into overdrive as I padded back down the stairs and hovered in the foyer. He was here. I could feel it. My feet took me to the office, and gooseflesh skipped across my skin.
I paused in the doorway, my hand on the smooth wood of the frame. “You came back.”
Valance turned slowly to face me, moonlight highlighting his aquiline features. His hair was raked back, as if he’d run his hand repeatedly through the chestnut locks, his jeans rode low on his hips, and his shirt had an extra button undone, exposing the V of his collarbone and the flat planes at the tops of his pectorals. It was almost as if clothes had been an afterthought.
He’d tried to feed off my soul. I should feel fear, anxiety, something negative, but there was nothing but relief that he was back.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
I stepped into the room and the air beside me shifted, signaling Gilbert’s presence.
Valance must have felt it too, because his mouth tightened. “I’m not here to hurt her. I wouldn’t do that. Not intentionally.”
His words were saturated with sincerity. “I know. I know you didn’t mean it. Gilbert’s just concerned.” I turned my head to the side where Gilbert was standing. “I’ll be okay, Gil.”
His disapproval was a vibration in the air, but I needed Valance to know we were okay, that he hadn’t irreparably damaged our relationship.
“I won’t be getting close enough for any lip-locking action.” The words were directed at Gilbert, but I fixed my eyes on Valance when I said them. The air rifled through my hair, followed by a pressure on my shoulder as Gilbert passed by, and then he was gone—although, knowing him, he wouldn’t go far.
Valance’s brow cleared, and his shoulders dropped slightly.
“You missed all the fun while you were away.” I kept my tone light, taking a few more steps into the room. “We kicked some Lost arse and then we got hauled into The Collective HQ and were forced to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Oh, and we have metal aliens hunting in our city.”
His brows shot up. “It looks like I have some catching up to do, then.”
“Yeah, you do.” I was a couple of feet away from him now, far enough to be clear of his personal space, but close enough to taste him in the air, honey and almonds. A sharp stab of longing speared me, accompanied by the memory of his mouth on mine, of his tongue licking the inside of my mouth, and his lips sucking on my tongue.
Valance swallowed hard. “Miss Bastion, whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop.”
I exhaled through my nose, squeezing my eyes shut to dispel the images, but the darkness of my lids merely served to intensify the sensations my body was recalling.
