Page 29 of Dance for the Dragon
“My friend. The guy who lives across the hall.”
Kohl ignored the burning ache in his gut. “No. That’s not it. I know that scent. Who else was in here?”
Her hands tangled together in front of her. “The cops.”
“Cops?”
“Yes. Well, one cop. A woman. I ran to the store earlier and when I got back my door was cracked open. She came up and checked to make sure they were gone before I came back inside.” She crossed her arms. “I know I didn’t leave it open. I always lock my door.”
“It was unlocked just now,” he pointed out.
“That’s because I was distracted.” She licked her lips, drawing his eyes, and then she looked away. “Frank was here and we were talking and I got upset. I couldn’t stop laughing. And then I couldn’t stop crying. Or vice versa. And then, well, then Frank left and I went to take a shower.” She looked up at him. “But normally, I lock my door. I always lock my door. I’m anal about it.”
“You told your friend what happened?”
She lifted her chin, as if she were expecting to be reprimanded for it. “I did. I thought it would be good for him to know, in case something like this happens again, or he sees an unfamiliar person wandering around. He’ll know to pay attention.”
“You trust him?”
“Completely.”
Kohl nodded. If she trusted the guy, that was good enough for him. Restless, he paced around her apartment, following the scent right into her bedroom. He took in the practical dresser and full-sized bed, covered in a plain, white comforter with colorful pillows thrown against the headboard. The scent was strong in here, and the beast stirred at the thought of a strange man infiltrating her private sanctuary, going through her drawers and closet, and dirtying that white comforter doing God knows what.
And it wasn’t the fucking cops. There were two separate unfamiliar scents. One female. And one male.
Kohl glanced back at the bed, closer this time. He could see the indentation of his form, and he ran a hand over it to smooth it out, barely resisting the urge to rip the blankets and sheets off her bed and throw them out the window. A deep growl fired up from his gut. He came back out and went into her bathroom. The fucker had been in here, too. Probably pissed in her toilet.
“Kohl? What is it?”
“Was anything missing? Did you check?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he joined her in the living area where she waited patiently.
Devon nodded. “I did. Nothing is missing.” She came to stand in front of him, and a look of concern crossed her features as she studied his face.
“Why didn’t you call me?” And there it was. The real reason he had this sick feeling in his gut.
“It was the middle of the afternoon?—”
He slashed his hand through the air. “It doesn’t matter. You promised you would call me if anything happened.”
She took a step back and her hands went to her hips, steel glinting from her eyes. “And what the hell would you have done, Kohl? Huh? Run out into the sunlight to come and save me? Like I was some sort of damsel in distress? You wouldn’t have made it two feet.”
“I would’ve done something.”
“What exactly would that be?”
He would’ve shifted and flown over here, and fuck the witnesses. “I don’t know!”
Her eyebrows rose at his tone.
Kohl reined in his temper. He wasn’t angry with her. He was angry at the thought that something could’ve happened to her and that she was right. There wasn’t a fucking thing he could’ve done about it. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m worried about you.” Biggest understatement of the year.
Her fingers wrapped around his forearms and pulled his hands away from his face. She smiled up at him, and the spark of life lighting up her eyes chased away his fears. “I’m fine. I didn’t come in. I called the police. And Frank came over and hung out with me for a while after they left, just in case. At least until it was time for me to get cleaned up for our date. And speaking of which—” She laced her fingers with his. “I seem to remember a certain someone promising me dinner.”
Kohl stared down at their linked hands. His large and inked, hers elegant and soft. They were the prettiest hands he’d ever seen. He took a deep breath and raised a hand, still linked with hers, to touch her face with the tips of his fingers. “I did. Are you hungry?” He grinned. “For food?”
She laughed up at him. “Actually, I really am starving. And I would love to go have dinner with you. But,”—worry lines appeared between her eyes—“won’t that be weird? For you, I mean. To just sit there while I eat?”
“No. It won’t be weird. I’ll have some wine. Doesn’t do much, but it doesn’t hurt.” He dropped a kiss on her knuckles, wishing they could stay in, but knowing it wasn’t going to happen, much as he would like it to. This woman affected him too much. There were times, when he was with others, the vampire in him made an appearance. It was hard not to. Feeding and sex were closely linked for him, one enhancing the other. But no woman he’d ever been with had awoken the beast. Not ever. Not until Devon. However, last night, he’d felt the beast stretching its wings both times he’d kissed her. Felt its pleasure. Almost as if, every time he touched her, he had to share her with the thing inside of him. It both unsettled and infuriated him. Kohl didn’t like to share. “Are you sure you’re doing okay? You look tired.”
