Page 35 of Marked
Before I can stop myself, I rap hard on the thick panel. There’s a small sound from inside, like a frightened squeak.
I lean closer. “Lilah? It’s Ruin.”
Something bangs loudly, followed by her colorful swearing. “Yeah, shit. Hang on.”
I rock back.
What the fuck?
More small crashes and gasps emanate from behind the door. And I wind tighter with every damn second that goes by.
The door opens and Lilah watches me from heavy-lidded, near sapphire eyes. Her hair is a mass of damp tangles and a rosy color rests high in her cheeks and slim neck.
A baggy, threadbare shirt covers her to her knees. But it’s the only thing on her.
I look past her into the room.
Was she asleep?
Something dark unfurls in my gut.
Is someone in there?
“You okay?” I ask, nostrils flaring to sort through the strong pulse of lilac and seawater pouring out into the hall. But there is no other scent besides hers.
She nods, gulping loudly. “Yeah. Fine. What’s up?”
“Can I come in?”
She blinks, face reddening further. “Umm, well, I was kind of ...”
I wait.
Her exhale is shaky. “Yeah. Sure.” She steps back, so I can enter. “If you will just give me a sec, I wasn’t really expecting company.”
I nod and lean against the wall. She rushes around picking up the tons of clothes all over the floor and bedspread.
My brows raise. And I mean clothes.
Her arms are laden with fabric as she shoves handfuls in her bag before chunking it on the other side of the bed.
She ducks in the bathroom and comes out a minute later, soft looking shorts on her legs. Her small body curls up on the bench at the end of the bed, idly twirling a thin section of her hair. “So ...”
“You came to find me earlier. I had a minute. Thought I should see what you needed?” I ask.
Her lips tug, but it’s not in amusement. “So ... Hours later, I finally warrant your attention?”
If only she knew that she is all that is taking up my attention right now.
“Look, about earlier. I hadn’t fed when you showed up, and I was kind of an ass,” I tell her as polite as I can manage.
Better to catch her with honey.
“Kind of?” she demands.
My eyes narrow. “Fine. I was an ass. Better?”
She folds her arms over her chest and frowns, but otherwise doesn’t remark.
