Page 57 of Edge of Darkness (Night Prowler 4)
Then, silently and all at once, he turned to Vapor.
His linen trousers slid to the floor and lay in an ivory pile, leaking air while he rose in a slinking thin plume and pushed through the crack of the window, out into the night.
Asher didn’t look entirely convinced by Ember’s explanation of what was going on with her and Christian.
She’d had to leave out the most important parts of the last week, of course, because she wasn’t going to reveal to another soul what exactly Christian was. Even if she ultimately decided she couldn’t be with him, his secret was safe with her.
“Secret?” said Asher sharply.
Ember realized she’d drifted off into her own little world for a moment and had been muttering aloud. His voice brought her back to reality with an unpleasant thud.
“What? Oh, sorry…nothing…my brain…I’m just so tired.”
Asher’s twisted lips and cocked eyebrow indicated he thought about as much as this lame excuse as she did. He made a noncommittal, “Mmm hmm.”
She blew out a shaky breath and shook her head. “You know, Ash, I love you for worrying about me, but this is just something I’ve got to get through myself.”
Asher’s gaze flickered to the door behind her. His look soured.
“He’s not going to do anything to hurt me.” Ember realized as she said it she wasn’t just saying it to convince Asher not to hurl the cleaver he still had in his hand at the back of the door; she actually believed it. Which was both a surprising revelation, and a huge relief.
Asher considered her in silence. Then he stood from the couch, crossed to the kitchen and laid the knife on the countertop. Looking down at it gleaming wickedly in the light, he said quietly, “There are a million ways someone can hurt another person, Ember, many of them unintentional.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “But something tells me this guy knows a lot of very nasty ways to hurt someone, all of them intentional.”
“Ash—”
“He’s beautiful, I’ll give you that. He might even be the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and honey, that’s saying something. But he’s dangerous, too. All I had to do is look into his eyes when he was standing there in your bedroom and I could see it. I could feel it. He was ready to tear me limb from limb. All that beauty is worth diddly-squat when you’re dealing with someone dangerous. In fact, it makes him even more dangerous because you’re too busy ogling all the pretty to notice the poison he’s slipping in your drink.”
“Ash—”
“You’re a big girl and I’m not your father, but I am your friend, and I’m worried about you. I’ll let it go because I know you want me to, but remember I told you this, Ember; this guy has secrets. Secrets have a cost, they’re not for free. And whatever you do, don’t let him give you any shit just because he looks like a supermodel. To paraphrase the great Violet Weingarten, life is too short to take shit, or to be minding it. So be smart. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes wide open, you hear? And if you need me, you know where to find me.” He tipped his jaw to the front door. “I’m only a phone call away.”
Then he turned, made his way silently to the front door and d
isappeared through it, leaving her alone in the empty living room wondering exactly when everything had gone so insane.
Oh yeah: the night Christian walked out of the rain and into my life.
She sighed and scraped her hair off her heated face, holding her hands against her head for a moment while she mentally prepared herself to walk back into the bedroom.
But when she did, Christian was nowhere to be found. Only a small pile of ivory linen crumpled below the cracked open window was evidence he was ever there at all.
That and the note he’d left on the pillow. The note read, I’ll wait as long as you need. But time is precious. And so are you. Please hurry.
Time is precious. Again, that reference to time running out.
When Ember turned on her computer and began to do more research on this character Caesar, she got the first, faint inklings of what he might mean.
Caesar was thoroughly unimpressed with the drawing Marcell presented him with.
It wasn’t the quality of the work he found lacking, it was the subject itself. Shoulder-length brown hair, brown eyes, heart-shaped face, symmetrical but average features, the woman staring back at him from the drawing could have been one of a billion different women, all of them boring. A crust of white bread had more interesting things to offer.
“That’s her?” he asked, sorely disappointed. “She looks so ordinary.” He’d have thought a male of his kind would have better taste in human women, especially considering they were off-limits, on pain of death. Why risk his hide for that?
He shifted his gaze to Nico, who stood humbly beside Marcell with his eyes lowered, his hands clasped behind his back. “Does she have big breasts, at least?”
“No, sire,” replied Nico regretfully.
Caesar gave an exasperated sigh. “Great ass, great legs, statuesque as a runway model—anything?”
