Edge Of Darkness

37

Ember didn’t make him feel helpless. Ember made him feel electrocuted. On fire. Alive.

Controlling his voice, he said to his brother, “Send her my regards. And tell her…tell her not to worry. Tell her there’s an angel looking out for me.”

This was met with another silence. Christian knew Leander imagined a different sort of meaning behind his words, a meaning that hinted at his mission and its outcome. But he was really thinking of another angel, an angel with a bad temper and eyes like dark chocolate and a smile like a sunrise, who could look at a man and make him feel like the center of the entire universe or the most irritating creature that had ever lived.

“I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got anything, all right?”

Leander murmured his assent, and they ended the call.

Staring down at the phone, Christian ran a hand through his hair. He’d been so sure he’d caught the scent of this traitor he was looking for earlier in the day, when he was out searching the forest. He’d been doing it in grids since he’d arrived in Barcelona four weeks ago, a concentrated effort that typically took all night and left him exhausted and sleeping through the next day. He doubted his target would be in the city; their kind preferred remote or inaccessible areas, far away from the prying eyes of humanity. So far his search had yielded nothing, but today there had been a trace of something on the wind. It was a faint rumor of exotic spice and heated earthiness, the signature of an adult predator in his prime—fur and blood and appetite. He’d followed it as far as he could, but the trail went cold over the crest of a ridge with a view straight out to the sea, and he’d been forced to abandon the search.

But not in time to be prompt for his date with Ember.

He smiled, thinking of her anger, of her face when she scolded him for being rude. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever spoken to him that way in his life.

He wondered that he liked it.

Christian hurried back to the library, half hoping for another scolding. And very much hoping he’d get a chance to finish what he started and see if September’s lips were as velvety soft as they looked.

The ride to the restaurant was completed in near silence, and after the intensity of the library Ember felt awkward sitting next to Christian in the back of the car as Corbin drove them into town.

She glanced at him and asked, “Do you ever drive yourself anywhere?”

Looking out the window, he smiled. He turned to gaze at her and said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to break the law.”

At her quizzical look, he explained, “I don’t have a driver’s license.”

She immediately thought the worst. Had it been taken away? Had he been involved in accidents? Car chases? Was he a bank robber? A criminal on the run? A master jewel thief?

It would explain a lot.

“What kind of a person doesn’t have a driver’s license?”

He sent her a lazy smile. “The same kind of person that doesn’t own a television.”

“Okay. Touché. But they’re still not the same thing.”

His smile slightly faded. “Where I grew up, there weren’t any cars. I just never learned to drive.”

This intrigued her. She turned her body in the seat and faced him. “No cars? In England? Were you Amish or something?”

He chuckled. “Amish? That’s where you go first, really?”

“You have to admit it’s weird.”

Now he studied her, all humor gone. “There are a great many things about my upbringing that I’m sure you would consider weird.”

She waited for more, but when it didn’t come, c****d an eyebrow at him. “You can’t just dangle that out there and not follow up, that’s totally bogus.”

“Bogus?” he repeated slowly, the laughter coming back into his eyes.

“Yes. Bogus. Wack. Lame. Wrong to the most high.”

He shook his head. “I had no idea your vocabulary was so extensive.”

Ember tapped her temple. “I read a lot, big boy. My vocabulary is multifarious.”

Christian leaned forward so their faces were very close and murmured, “Did you just call me big boy?”

Ember swallowed, her stomach suddenly alight with the dreaded butterflies that refused to die, which had multiplied a thousandfold since the day they met, breeding like frenzied rabbits with every touch, with every glance and shared smile. She was enveloped in his scent again, masculine and exotic, a foreign spice of night and smoke and secrets. The way he was looking at her made her flush straight down to her toes.

“Um. Yes?”

He studied her for a moment in silence, his gaze roving over her hot face, her mouth, her eyes. Finally he lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles over her face with the faintest pressure, following the curve of her cheek down to her jaw. He whispered, “I love this.”

Like an elevator plummeting from snapped cables, Ember’s stomach hit the floor. She managed to gather her wits enough to respond with a stuttered, “W-what?”