As a result, the house was as pristine as the day he had walked out and locked the door behind him.
Not even a cobweb dared to mar the perfection.
Caine had intended to collapse once he’d reached his most private home.
Over the past few days he’d played a dangerous game of chicken with the King of Weres, battled a zombie Were who’d used and abused him for years, and been killed by a demon lord who had rammed through him with the force of a nuclear blast.
And if that wasn’t enough, when he’d come back to life it was to realize that he was no longer a mere cur, but a full blooded Were and that he’d somehow become the default guardian for a genetically altered female Were who’d been held prisoner by the demon lord and was a priceless prophet. The rarest, most coveted creature in the world.
Yeah, no real shocker he needed some serious R and R.
But, throwing away the empty sacks of fast food he’d consumed on the way to the lair, Caine made no effort to head for his bedroom.
Instead he scrubbed his hands through the short blond hair that when combined with his pale blue eyes and naturally bronzed skin (that was currently revealed to full advantage by his lack of a shirt and the worn jeans that rode low on his slender hips) made most people think of him as a harmless surfer dude.
It was an image he encouraged until his wolf was ready to come out and play.
Smiling wryly, he watched the slender female who prowled through the kitchen with an intensity that was scaring the shit out of him.
Not that she wasn’t worth eyeballing.
Her hair wasn’t just blond, it shimmered like the purest silver despite being annoyingly wrenched into a braid that fell nearly to her waist. Her skin was a perfect alabaster, so smooth and satin it would tempt a saint to sin. And her wide, innocent eyes were the shade of summer grass, astonishingly flecked with gold.
Then there was that flawless body.
Even covered by frayed jeans and shapeless sweatshirt there was no mistaking the slender curves and lean, well-toned muscles that assured him she was no delicate flower.
She was a woman who could handle a wolf in full heat. His nose flared as he sucked in her sweet lavender scent, his body tense with the urge to pounce.
Ah, the things he could do …
Instead he leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his chest as he watched her tentatively stroke her hand over the toaster before moving onto the microwave, absently pushing the buttons on the control panel.
There was nothing fancy about the farmhouse. The kitchen was decorated with blue and white tiles with the mandatory gingham curtains and a plain wooden table and chairs in the center of the floor. The sort of homey atmosphere prized in the Midwest.
Cassandra, however, was inspecting her surroundings with a fascination that should have been reserved for a trip to the space station.
Understandable.
She’d been trapped in a dark, dank cave for God knew how many years. Even the simplest technology had to seem astonishing.
So why did he find her distraction with his home perilously close to an insult?
Because he wanted all that feminine fascination reserved solely for him?
Giving a sharp jerk of his head, Caine forced himself away from the counter, moving to stand directly in Cassandra’s path.
“Do you intend to spend the entire night pacing the floors?”
With her peculiar habit of taking the world, and everyone in it, at face value, she paused to consider his question.
“I’m not certain. Do I need to inform you of my decision now?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, vaguely recalling his mother’s bitter predictions.
“I was warned my sins would land me in hell,” he muttered.
The green eyes studied him with an unwavering interest. “You’re upset.”
“Dying tends to sour my mood.”
“You were only dead a few minutes and now you have what you’ve always desired,” she pointed out with perfect logic. “You’re a full-blooded Were.”
“Yeah, I got the memo.”
He shuddered, still adjusting to the sensations that crashed through him. It was like the floodgates had been jerked open to release a torrent of raw power. It would be days, if not weeks before he could become accustomed to his newly heightened senses and the strange cravings that gripped him.
“Then why aren’t you pleased?” she softly demanded.
He grimaced at her puzzlement. It was true he had never made a secret of his lust to gain the gifts of a Were. What creature wouldn’t want to be stronger and faster and downright superior?
And, of course, there was always the whole immortality thing.
But when he’d received the visions that had promised he was destined to become a pureblood, he hadn’t counted on the sacrifice.
“Because it …”
“What?”
He squeezed his hands into tight balls of frustration. “I thought my destiny was to unlock the secret of transforming cur blood into pure Were,” he bit out. “Not being genetically altered because a whacked-out demon lord rammed through me in an attempt to escape into another dimension.”
She tilted her head to the side, somberly considering his words.
“You regret that you won’t be able to share your wondrous transformation with others?”
He snorted at the naïve question. Obviously Cassandra hadn’t figured out yet that he was a selfish bastard who’d never done a thing in his life that didn’t benefit him in one way or another.
“I’m not Gandhi.”
“Who?”
He heaved a pained sigh. “Never mind.” “I still don’t understand why you’re upset. “I wanted to fulfill my visions with science, not magic.”
“Why?”
“A gift given by magic is never without cost. The universe always manages to extract a payment. Christ.” He shuddered. “I can’t even imagine what the cosmic debt for immortality will be.”
“It’s too late for regrets.” She frowned at his sharp laugh. “Did I say something funny? I’m never sure.”
“I’ve been saying that it’s too late for regrets for the past decade,” he muttered.
“Ah.” She turned to wander toward the nearby window, studying the untamed nature that surrounded them. “And yet you still have them.”
“I …” His mouth dropped in shock as Cassandra absently pulled the sweatshirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. The jeans swiftly followed, leaving her standing in nothing more than a plain white bra and matching panties. “Holy shit, what are you doing?”