The dark memories were crowding through his mind, a sharp reminder of the people who depended on him. The people who were once again left without a chief, despite his promises.
With a sudden shove he was off the bed and pulling on his jeans.
“That’s not my story to tell,” he rasped. “You should rest.”
There was a sharp, startled silence followed by the sound of Sally turning on her side and yanking the covers over her naked body.
“Got it.”
He lifted his gaze to study the rigid line of her back visible through the thin blanket.
“Sally.”
“I’m tired, Roke.”
And pissed, he silently added, ruefully using his powers to extinguish the candles.
Combined with a large dollop of hurt.
Dammit. He hadn’t meant to . . .
What?
Lure her into a sense of intimacy and then slam the door in her face?
He grimaced, moving to take a position where he could keep watch over Sally while making sure nothing tried to slip through the entrance. The spells should be enough to repel any intruder, but he was still bothered by the strange demon who’d attacked them.
There’d been something off about the creature and until he knew exactly what the demon was capable of, he wasn’t about to let down his guard.
Not when his mate depended on his protection.
Keeping his gaze trained on the female who was rapidly turning his well-ordered life into chaos, Roke leaned against the cement wall, allowing the day to creep past as he leashed his painful memories and tucked them into the back of his mind.
They’d done enough damage, thank you very fucking much.
The sun was setting when Sally at last stirred, looking adorable with her gorgeous hair tumbled around her flushed face and her eyes velvet dark with lingering sleep.
She sat up, the blanket dipping down to give a peek of smooth satin skin and the gentle swell of a breast.
Roke clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to cross the room and pull her into his arms.
Would she actually turn him into a toad? He didn’t think so, but now didn’t seem the time to push her.
As if to emphasize the point, her head swiveled to discover him standing near the waist-high counter, her expression instantly smoothing to a cool mask.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, wrapping the blanket tight around her body.
He nodded his head toward the water that he’d poured into a large pan and placed on a kerosene heater.
“I thought you would prefer to wash in hot water.”
Her lips thinned, as if considering where she wanted him to shove his hot water; then, with an extreme effort she rose to her feet and gave a regal nod.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He bristled at her brittle composure, while his lips twisted at the irony.
Since he’d become clan chief, he’d been convinced that his mate would be a replica of himself.
Controlled. Aloof. Detached.
Now he wanted Sally to lash out at him. To storm around the small space, her eyes sparking with temper and her hair swinging around her beautiful face. Hell, he’d be happy if she threw something at him.
Sally Grace was a bundle of impulsive, unpredictable emotions. It was just . . . wrong to see her so contained.
And he had no one to blame but himself, he acknowledged with a pang of regret.
Still, maybe it was for the best, the voice of reason whispered.
This mating, no matter how real it might feel, was an illusion. His responsibility to his people was a duty that was real.
A damned shame it didn’t feel like it was for the best.
In fact, he wanted to grab her and kiss her until her icy composure melted and her arms wrapped around his neck....
Shit.
“I’ve called Cyn,” he abruptly announced, adjusting the various weapons he had strapped to his body. Anything to keep his hands to himself. “He’ll meet us at Pandora’s Box in an hour.”
She frowned. “What’s Pandora’s Box?”
“One of Viper’s numerous bars.”
A hint of fire threatened to break through the ice. “You arranged a meeting and didn’t think you should discuss the decision with me?”
He shrugged. He wasn’t going to compromise when it came to her safety.
“It’ll be well guarded.”
“By vampires.”
“Not exclusively,” he said, having visited more than one of the clan chief of Chicago’s clubs. “Viper is an equal opportunity employer.”
She arched a brow. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”
It shouldn’t be. Viper’s clubs tended to be shocking even by demon standards.
Blood, sex, and violence were always on the menu.
They also happened to be guarded by Viper’s most loyal warriors.
He nodded his head toward the music box that was set on the floor next to the bed.
“We need to find someplace where you’ll be safe while we figure out what is so important about your box.”
“Right.” Another flash of fire in the dark eyes. Thank the gods. “Would you go to a witch’s coven?”
He ignored her question.
“We’ll meet Cyn there and you can get something decent to eat.” He held up a hand as her lips parted to protest. “If you’re not comfortable, we’ll leave. Okay?”
Her lips snapped together, the ice returning. “Fine.”
He bit back a curse. The sun had barely set and it already promised to be a long night.
He shoved impatient fingers through his hair. “Is there anything else you need?”
She met his gaze. “Privacy.”
His lips twisted. A direct hit.
“You want me to turn my back?”
“The spells are woven to keep intruders out.” Her chin tilted. “Not to keep people from leaving.”
A low growl rumbled through Roke. The primitive urge to remain and make sure his mate was taking proper care of herself was a ruthless compulsion that beat through him even as he forced his feet to carry him toward the front of the room.
She needed space.
He could at least give her that.
“I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”
Not waiting for a response, he leaped upward, landing on the edge of the hole.
His feet barely touched the grass when he was yanking his dagger from its sheath.
Fey.
The scent was all around them.
Fairy. Imp. Even a few wood sprites.
He scanned the darkness, sensing the gathered crowd scurrying away at his abrupt appearance.
Concentrating on their rapid departure, Roke nearly missed the stack of items that had been piled at the edge of the clearing.