Eva

  She didn't get much sleep. Between the extremely uncomfortable cushions, the guilt nightmares, and the knowledge of Dante's body so close to hers, she found herself lying there, staring at the pattern on the back of the couch. In the darkness, she could just barely make out the faint pink petals of the cabbages. She stared at them for what seemed like hours until the vegetables bloomed with the first of dawn's light.

  And Dante sat there silent, unmoving as a shadow at her feet. He never revealed if he knew she was awake, and she didn't ask. She was embarrassed he'd found her in the first place.

  After Lowell brought up memories she thought she'd long forgotten, the crushing reality hit. The fire had been her brother's fault, and they had hidden it from her all this time. She tried not to hold judgment; they were children, after all, but...

  They had lied to her. And she was certain they were still lying to her. She had no memory of that night. At all. What she once thought was a trauma response, now felt more like Nyx. To not remember the fire, maybe. But if the boys had been playing with demon cards, if there was a literal demon soiree happening on the first level of their home that night… and they had never mentioned demons to her again after that point? Her parents had definitely Nyxed her.

  And she feared what else they'd lied to her about.

  She felt numb.

  Despite the electricity she'd once felt with Dante's hands on her. With the memory of how his mouth felt on her body and how she'd wanted to give in to him. To screw the fucking consequences.

  Now? She just felt.. cold and… so damn numb.

  She hadn't remembered feeling this way in a really long time.

  The light slowly trickled in through the open curtains and she knew it was time to put on another brave face, but she didn't want to.

  She was exhausted. Last night's warm shower had helped soothe her muscles but her body still felt every fall, every scrape.

  She shifted the blanket over her head to cover her eyes completely, and with that movement, Dante finally came alive.

  She heard him stand, his soft steps heading away from her. To the bathroom, she realized once the door had closed.

  In her bedroom, her brother still snored loudly, probably also exhausted from his battle, and she was grateful to have a moment to herself. She tucked her legs closer to herself and gave a deep sigh.

  It was to calm herself before she broke down again and it just barely worked.

  When she was certain she could face the day, she turned and pushed herself off the couch, heading for the kitchen.

  She didn't have much food in her fridge so she couldn't busy herself with making breakfast. She settled for coffee.

  Her microwave showed it was a little after seven and she was grateful her parents had told her not to come in. They were going to open the shop late, and only open at all because they had a few Keeper appointments they couldn't cancel.

  "Good morning," Dante quietly greeted, suddenly in the kitchen behind her.

  "Jesus!" she whispered fiercely with a whirl. "Bruh, don't you make a noise?"

  Her gaze swept over his attire, changed from yesterday's soiled clothes, but still casual.

  He was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His brow arched as he asked, "Do you want to find out?"

  She tried to smile at his flirting, but it faltered. And he noticed.

  His sexy smolder dimmed slowly, so she took a quick breath and tried again. "Coffee?"

  He only stared at her and she almost caved with his eyes on her. So she turned away and gave her tiny coffee machine her attention instead. She heard when he came up behind her. Felt his hesitation before he asked gruffly, as if it were hard for him, if she was okay.

  "No, yeah, peachy." She gave a short nod, watching the water stream into her cup.

  Again, he hesitated, and she could feel he wanted to say something. She knew she was doing a horrible job of masking her emotions but she'd been masking for nearly ten years. She was tired.

  His hand slid to the waistband of her sweats. With her shirt tucked, he hadn't actually touched her skin, but God, just the simple fact of him touching her at all sent her heart into overdrive.

  "Eva." Her whispered name came from his lips like a beacon of light in her darkness. "Look at me."

  She didn't. She couldn't. Not with him this close. Not with him touching her. He fogged her mind. Made her want to do things she shouldn't. Made her want to melt into him.

  "Evanora." This time, her name was a command, and his tender hand on her hip pulled to turn her.

  She hated it when people saw her cry. It had been why she'd hidden in her closet the night of Mrs. Wells's news and in the bathroom last night after finding out about Amy's death.

  Monroe had sent word to Lowell while Dante had been gone. The cops had finally gotten around to checking the dead girl's ID and found her address was across from Eva's. What was once thought to be a coincidence encounter was yet another personal body she could add to her guilt. Add that on top of Lowell's sudden confession, and it had been another tipping point.

  She had been surprised to find Dante nodded off on the couch, but grateful he wasn't there to watch her have a mental break in the bathroom.

  Biting her nails into her palm, she let him turn her to face him, his hand never leaving her waist. There was a strange tender worry on his face as he searched hers, an expression she'd yet to see but liked. The tenderness, not the worry.

  She was worrying him. The hard demon hunter.

  Jesus, she had to pull herself together. If the hunter she barely knew could sense her pain, she knew she'd have a terrible time hiding it from her family.

  She took a breath to steady herself, but with their closeness, it pushed her further into him and his other hand came to her face.

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  It hesitated on her cheek before he used a callous thumb to wipe a tear at the corner of her eye she hadn't meant to shed.

  "I'm fine." She tried for strong but knew she failed with the doubtful look he gave her.

  "Do not lie to me." He shook his head. "Ever."

  When she didn't say anything he continued. His hand didn't leave her cheek and its warmth made her knees tremble with the memory of yesterday's lapse. If not for him so close and her bottom against the edge of her counter she was certain she would have melted into a puddle on the floor. "It's okay if you're not… okay."

  His eyes seemed to search hers and when she tried to look away, uncomfortable with his studious gaze, his hand moved to the nape of her neck in the same demanding way it had yesterday. It forced her to meet his eyes and her brows furrowed with an anger that slowly built in her.

  Who was he to demand her attention? To cloud her judgment like this? To make her feel so – so vulnerable.

  She reached up to take his hand that commanded her and saw a sexy smolder in his eyes when she touched him.

  But now was not the time. Yesterday had not been the time with them both reeking of Serpaxos blood. And yet, she wanted all the tiny moments she could steal with him if it made her feel this way. It made her ponder what about him made her feel… desired. Like… a woman?

  Instead of standing on her toes and kissing him as she wanted, she pulled his hand behind her neck, holding it for just a moment.

  His brows matched hers but with confusion. Her expression had softened, knowing the momentary anger was misdirected.

  In the bedroom, she heard her brother's morning alarm. He'd set it the night before so he could get an early start.

  She held Dante's hand with both of hers, bringing it up to her face to brush her lips across his knuckles, before giving it back. "I'm fine. Promise."

  A type of realization set his features and he stepped back, body ridged. "I thought we weren't breaking promises."

  She chuckled and she saw the momentary hurt in his eyes. " promised no such thing."

  His smile was just as forced as hers and it nearly broke her. So she turned to finish fixing her coffee. When she was done, she walked past him, giving as much space between them as possible in the small kitchen.

  She went to the window he normally sat perched and looked down at the people walking the sidewalks, unaware of what was out there. They were unaware of what could so easily take their lives.

  Amy's sweet face flashed in her mind and she closed her eyes as she forced back the burning in her throat. What would happen to her fiance? Her parents?

  "You cool?" Lowell asked groggily with a stretch and yawn.

  "Yep." She popped the p and tried to redirect. "You look crusty as shit, my guy."

  His chuckle was dry. "Yeah, well, you don't look like a bucket of sunshine either, fo'head."

  She gave a forced chuckle at that knowing he was right. She'd caught her reflection in the mirror last night before her shower.

  On top of the few new streaks of grey in her hair, courtesy of the Vocia, who she'd been told sucked some of her chi when it screeched into her face, she had new scrapes on her cheeks and dark bruises lining her waist and arms in places.

  Of course, Lowell couldn't see the bruises with the green long-sleeved thermal she'd slept in but she knew he'd definitely gotten the gist when he'd accidentally walked in on her changing. The hurt in his eyes as he stood frozen was evident. Which was probably what prompted his confession.

  It had been a while since any of her family had seen her body like that. She'd usually choose to wear long sleeves and baggy clothes but in her new home, with no judging eyes, she'd finally felt comfortable to wear what she wanted. Shorts, sports bras, spaghetti straps.

  Hell, even naked the first night. Even with Dante present, she'd refused to feel like a prisoner in her own home.

  But now, it was back to hiding. Especially with the way Dante had looked at her last night. The way he'd made her feel special with his mouth trailing her, versus the hurt in his eyes when he'd actually seen her naked. She locked that look in his eyes away in her mind.

  While her brother headed to the bathroom, she looked over at Dante, who she'd felt staring at her the entire time.

  "Do you want coffee?" Her voice was finally stronger. She'd just needed a moment to collect herself. To lock things in their proper mental vault.

  He didn't say anything, just stood between the wall of her kitchen and bedroom, observing her.

  Which made her uncomfortable. So she went to her bedroom to find actual clothes and not the loungewear she'd been forced to wear in her own home.

  Her closet wasn't huge but she was still able to walk in, which she loved. Not that she had enough clothes to fill it, but there was potential. She had a vision for the space. The previous tenant had even left a long mirror on the back wall that had been perfect for her.

  The door to her bedroom shut gently and though she thought it was too soon for Lowell to be done with his religious… morning routine, she didn't bother turning, figuring it was him returning.

  But it wasn't Lowell who found her in the closet.

  She saw Dante's reflection in the mirror before he entered the tiny space, coming up behind her.

  "What are–" Before she could finish, he was cutting her off by turning her and bringing his hands to her face. He bent down and placed his mouth on hers in a gentle kiss.

  Her eyes widened.

  Her first kiss.

  It was simple and soft. Just his lips on hers and it had shocked the shit out of her. It was unexpected, both the action and how tender it was. She was frozen.

  Then he began to take her bottom lip in gentle waves, and as if instinctively, she moved her mouth against his, shutting her eyes and loving the warmth he breathed into her.

  She let out a breathy moan as her body began to melt into the way one of his hands moved to the back of her neck and the other to the hand that held her coffee. Skillfully, he took it from her and placed it… where she didn't give not one single fuck. All she wanted to focus on was his mouth moving with hers.

  On his hands pressing her closer to him by the lower part of her back, after sliding under her shirt a bit.

  On the warmth and prickling electricity of his skin on hers.

  Oh God, the warmth of his skin on hers set her whole being on fire, leaving goosebumps where his hands roamed on her hip and her cheek. She felt her nipples harden painfully with how his body rubbed against hers.

  And then, all at once, it stopped.

  He released her and stepped away, leaving her to her own personal hell.

  She couldn't read his face. His expression was stone as if what he'd just done hadn't been the most glorious experience of her life. Her fingers went to her lips, her brain too giddy to connect with her mouth to speak.

  "I didn't want–" She didn't give him a chance to finish. She didn't care what he was about to say. All she wanted was to be consumed by this man.

  She collided her body into his and he caught her instinctively, wrapping his arms around her again as she crushed her mouth to his.

  A haughty chuckle rumbled in his chest, coursing through her. He took his mouth from hers, dipping his head down, and moved to her neck just behind her ear. The same glorious way he'd done the night before. When a needy whimper escaped her, he chuckled again, one hand cupping her ass and the other tangling in her hair to keep her in place.

  She loved when he did that. Him pulling her closer to him by the nape of her neck? Its dominance made the warmth in her core spread to the space between her legs.

  It made her wonder what he'd feel like inside of her, his long fingers instead of her own.

  He ran a trail of kisses from her ear to the sensitive pulse on her neck and she wondered if he could feel how rapidly it thumped against his lips. His mouth moved back up to hers, thankfully, because that's what she'd really wanted, to be able to taste him again.

  She didn't know what to do with her hands so they gripped his shirt, pulling him down into her and hopefully deepening their kiss.

  She felt his tongue at her bottom lip, begging for entrance that she granted easily, and he smiled into her mouth before deepening their kiss. There was an electricity humming throughout her, one she'd never felt before and that she never wanted to end.

  His mouth left hers and ran its course back to her pulse again. As his hands ran up her hips, to her waist, to the fabric of her sports bra, and finally reaching her nipples that were hard as fucking diamonds, her body arched with the feel of his thumbs gentle brushing.

  "Fuuck," he groaned into the base of her throat, and she first thought it was a needy moan, but it seemed more frustrated. With her? She'd moved her hands to his arms to give him better access, but it was more like holding his arms in place so he'd keep groping her. She wanted his hands to slide under her bra so she could feel his hands on the sensitive parts of her, but he started to move his hands back down to her waist as he adjusted her top and pulled back a bit.

  There was an apology on the tip of her tongue accompanying the confusion plastered to her face with his pause. But he stared down at her for a moment, expression unreadable, before placing another soft kiss on her forehead, her nose, and finally, her lips.

  Then he broke all contact with her, turned, and left her in the closet stunned by his actions. Was she that terrible of a kisser?

  Shaking off her confusion, she followed him, but he was already at the door to her bedroom. Where her brother was entering.

  Shit. Lowell.