Page 40 of Death Warden
Wait a second? I switched to gray sight to see a man in a jaunty hat walking away. A ghost.
He wasn’t the only one. I spotted several more, walking alongside the people of the city, chatting amiably to one another. And they were all headed in the same direction.
“They’re going to the central cemetery,” Curo said. “It’s where most of the spirits in the city live.”
“I thought you weren’t a hellhound. How can you see them?”
He turned toward me, stepping forward and forcing me back a step to let a group of the living pass. I looked at him properly for the first time since switching to gray sight and bit back a gasp. Curo glowed. Silver light etched his every feature and his hair gleamed like a halo.
He offered me a lopsided smile and reached out to touch the tip of my nose. “Your nose is red. You’re cold. I guess you didn’t inherit the hellhound heat.”
Fuck, he was achingly beautiful.
His smile dimmed. “I’ve never been described as that before.”
Damn, had I said that out loud? I flicked out of gray light. “Curo…what in the hell are you?”
He glanced over my head. “Fancy a hot chocolate?”
“What? I—”
He grabbed my hand and tugged me into the coffee shop. He was deflecting again. But I was persistent. I needed to know what he was.
And he was going to tell me.
* * *
CURO
I’m supposed to be spending time with her so I can get my scent all over her, but all I can do is think of more efficient ways of achieving that objective.
There is no point denying that I want to fuck her brains out. I want to pin her to the wall, wrap her thighs around my waist, and bury myself in her sweet cunt until she’s a sobbing, unraveled mess with my name on her lips.
“You want chocolate or blueberry?”
“Huh?” I blink and stare at her.
She rolls her eyes and jerks her head at an array of cakes and muffins trapped beneath plastic domes. “What muffin do you want?”
The one between your thighs. “I’ll take blueberry.”
The server plucks one blueberry and one chocolate off the tray and hands them to Adi. I take the hot chocolates and follow her to a table for two by the window.
It’s strange sitting here with a woman. Like a date. I don’t do dates. But with Adi it feels…normal.
She unwraps her chocolate muffin and takes a bite.
I want to be that muffin. I want her to lick me like she’s licking the chocolate filling out of that damn baked treat.
Fuck, these jeans are not equipped to contain my erection. I shift in my seat.
“You okay?” She looks genuinely concerned. “You’re awfully quiet for someone who loves the sound of his own voice.”
I put my mask back in place and suck on my bottom lip, reveling in the way she tracks the movement.
I feel the heat from the flush of her body. Smell her arousal.
She wants me. I bet if I push it, I can have her. It isn’t hard to play the romantic, to sweep a woman off her feet. I’ve been that man several times over the centuries. The lover, the poet, the writer, the musician. I’ve done it all and I’ve fucked too many women to remember, but this one…This one is different. And it’s not just because she belongs to Spectre, although that part sucks balls, but because… Because I want her to belong to me.
