I woke up to the drumming of rain on the roof. Feeling like one of the walking dead, I rubbed my bloodshot eyes, digging out the crusty eye boogies that had gathered at the corners. Not pretty. But that was nothing compared to what was going on inside my mouth. It tasted like something furry had crawled inside and died.
My first thought was to scamper out of bed, rush to the bathroom and brush my teeth with a gallon of mouthwash. Anything to remedy the rancid taste on my tongue, except as I pulled back the covers, I sensed something was wrong. I scanned the room. The walls weren’t lavender and white, but gray and black. There was no cluster of makeup, no clothes haphazardly tossed on the floor, and the room smelled distinctively of male, in a very, very good way, the kind that had my ovaries buzzing.
Only one person gave me that butterfly-excited feeling.
A sleepy mumble drew my attention to the other side of the bed. In the light of day, he looked appealing, his hair rumpled from sleep. The tattoo of his reaper’s scythe peeked out from under the covers that hung down by his waist. There was an old scar that ran down the center of his chest.
Memories rushed in. The attack. Estelle. The council. Crash. The dream. Celeste. I’d spent the night with Zane at the Hunters’ house. There was something oddly reassuring about sleeping under the same roof as the Grim Reaper.
After the council meeting and the fight with Estelle and her ghostly gang, Zane insisted I come home with him where he could keep an eye on me. He wasn’t taking any chances that Crash might make another unexpected visit, who he promptly told to get lost. Crash seemed to be able to get around every defense Zane set up. It didn’t bode well with Zane. If Crash was on my side, why was he continually cornering me alone? I had a feeling Crash was playing both sides.
Zane had sent Declan to the manor to watch over Parker and TJ. It was a relief; however, it had done little to quiet my overactive mind. I don’t know why he chose his house over the manor. Maybe he wanted to sleep in his own bed, but since the night we slept together, neither of us could bear to sleep alone.
An indisputable fact: I loved Zane. All-encompassing. All-consuming. Now and forever. His love was going to protect me. Save me. Save us all.
I just didn’t know how, yet.
As my brain became less jumbled and foggy, I remembered the vision of the future. It wasn’t a memory I wanted to retain. The rain tapping against the windowpane made the dream that much more depressing.
Zane stretched beside me, pulling my eyes back to him. I no longer wanted to climb out of bed, and would much prefer to stay snuggled up to his cool body, forget my problems, forget the dream.
My hand was still resting over his beating heart, and I was comforted by the steady sound. He was alive. The world was spinning, but for how long? How much time did I have?
I thought about all we had been through to get here, causing a smile to cross my lips. It had been a bumpy road, and we hadn’t always been civil to each other. There had been multiple times I’d wanted to drown him in the ocean, but he did have a few award-winning qualities.
He was a keeper.
I lay on my side, tucking my hands under my cheek and watched him like a total creeper. The sheets were twisted at his waist, and his face looked almost angelic. Thick, black lashes fanned over his cheeks. It was hard to believe that I had bagged and tagged Zane Hunter. Sigh. If anything happened to him…
The fluttering of anxiety came back just as Zane eyes began to move.
And then I was lost in a sea of deep blue. “Morning.” His voice was raspy from sleep.
A smile swept across my face. “Hey sleepyhead.”
He roped an around my hips and pulled me to him. “I was almost afraid you wouldn’t be here.”
“Where else would I be?”
His lips drifted over the arch of my cheek. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here.”
“I am. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
His eyes searched mine. “How are you dealing?”
“I’m not,” I admitted, unable to stop staring at his lips. It took all my self-control to concentrate on what he was saying, when all I wanted to do was kiss him. I wanted him to make me feel alive. I wanted him to evoke all the emotions my dream had lacked. Human emotions. Love. Pleasure. Desire.
His eyes darkened as he ran the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. “Maybe I can help you…focus.” He brought his lips to mine in a kiss that was sweet and tender.
It reached me everywhere. “Hmm. Things are starting to get a little clearer.” I snaked my fingers into his rumpled hair. “Another kiss?”
“Anything I can do to help.” He planted his lips on the hollow of my throat.
I shivered, pressing my forehead into his shoulder and inhaled deeply. The scent of him never got old… beachy, like my own personal island. “What would I do without you?”
“Let’s never find out,” he murmured.
“I like the sound of that.” I drew him to my lips again, lingering over the taste of him. Things quickly went from hot to knock-your-socks-off hot. Needing to get closer, I climbed into his lap. I couldn’t help it. He was so darn addicting. Wrapping my legs around his, I arched up, pressing myself against him, and a shudder rolled through Zane.
The kiss spun wildly out of control, and I was totally okay with it. His name tumbled from my lips as his fingers slid under my shirt.
He hissed in a breath. “I love hearing the way you say my name.”
I rained kisses on his face, softly whispering his name between each, before fully pressing his to mine in a kiss that had my nerve endings humming. I love you, Zane, I said in my head. So much it scares me.
“Me too,” he whispered in my ear.
My nails tightened on his neck. It was easy to forget our souls naturally aligned, especially with our guards down or when we were caught up in each other, as we were now. We could transmit our thoughts to one another through our soul connection. I must have done so without realizing.
Kinda hot, and a tad frightening. Thank God, all I had done was confess my love, instead of telling him what a delectable butt he had, and how sometimes I wanted to just take a bite.
He brushed our noses. “Thanks, I think,” he grinned, one side of his lips tipped up.
I buried my head into his shoulder. Voice muffled, I said, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“I gathered.” He planted a kiss on top of my head. “But I’m glad I did, that I can hear what you’re thinking. I want to know everything about you.”
“Being with you makes me happy.”
***
At precisely eleven-thirty, I had my first cup of coffee in the Hunters’ kitchen. I sat at the breakfast bar, feet dangling from the stool, watching Zane work magic in the kitchen. He was making us breakfast, or more like brunch. How many other talents did he have?
I was enthralled. His dark hair was freshly showered, and his blue eyes were bright. I could feel the happiness sparking off him, and it warmed my heart to know I was the cause. Sipping my sweetened coffee, I didn’t want to damper his spirits with an ominous dream.
He expertly flipped the omelet in one of those chef pan tosses you see on television. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I don’t usually eat breakfast,” I replied.
The Hunters’ kitchen was straight out of Better Homes & Gardens. There was this homey quality I missed, the smell of home-baked goods and clutter of pots and pans hanging from a rack.
The toaster popped up four pieces of golden, slightly crispy toast. Just how I liked. Before Zane had finished smothering on the butter, Zoe strutted in. She snatched a piece as she went to the fridge and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
Zane didn’t even blink, adding four more pieces to the toaster.
Zoe was rockin’ a messy bun on top of her head and a pair of purple skull boxers shorts. She had just rolled out of bed and looked super cute. I hated her.
“Someone have a sleepover?” she asked, taking a bite out of the whole wheat toast.
My cheeks colored. “I needed a change of scenery.”
“Heard you had a rough day.”
“Rough doesn’t cover my days anymore. How’s Parker?” I asked, tapping a nail on the side of my mug.
She swiveled in the stool beside me. “Mopey. Lost. Stubborn. Adorkable.”
It was still weird thinking about Zoe and Parker being an item. He thought I was against their relationship because Zoe was a reaper, but that wasn’t the case. It didn’t matter who or what Parker dated. Sharing him wasn’t something I’d ever had to do. I guess this was sort of how he had felt seeing me with Zane. I loved Parker. Not in the way I loved Zane, but knowing Parker cared about someone as strong as he did me, or stronger, was unsettling. I didn’t want him to get hurt again, and maybe a small part of me was jealous. In my head, I knew there was room in his life for both of us, but my heart was afraid. “You really like him,” I said, staring into my coffee.
She took another chunk out of the side of her toast. “What’s not to like?”
Zane snickered. “I could think of a few things.”
I shot him a stink eye. “I agree with Zoe, Parker has many redeeming qualities. You, on the other hand, have many questionable qualities.”
He leaned over the counter, a smirk on his lips, and kissed me. “Those refutable qualities are why you love me.”
“Maybe.”
Zoe made a gagging noise. “Gah, not while I’m eating.”
I smiled. If only every day could be like this. My phone buzzed on the counter just as Zane placed three plates down. I picked it up, eyes narrowing at the name flashing on the screen. It was Crash.
We need to talk. Alone. The text said.
I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I quickly responded, praying that would be the end of it. I wasn’t so lucky.
Zane won’t let you come out and play?
He was such an instigator. I just don’t trust you.
I have information that might be of use.
Do you know how impossible alone is these days? I texted back.
His response was immediate. Meet me at the docks in two hours.
I sighed, knowing I was going to take the bait. Damn him. Fine. Don’t make me regret this. The screen blinked to black.