quirk.
Mashing my lips together, I jerk my glove back on, then drive out of the park and head for my house. Not sure I want this man knowing where I live, but there’s no other choice.
“Lay back down,” I tell him, glancing warily at him in the rearview mirror.
I swallow hard. His reflection is fuzzy, blurry, as if he’s only half there. “You’ll need your strength to get up my steps because I’m not carrying your murdering ass.”
He rumbles a soft laugh that oozes delight. “Now who is bossy?” But he lies back.
Once more, I toss a look over my shoulder. He sprawls there, head against the window, hand across his slashed chest, looking perfectly at home in my car.
It’s not helping me that he’s beautiful, if in a frighteningly unnatural way. If he wasn’t a sword-wielding maniac and that stonelike skin didn’t make him look like he’s wearing a Halloween mask, he’d probably be the kind of man I’d go home with and then leave early in the morning before he can think we have a future together.
“You have some explaining to do,” I tell him.
“I do, do I?”
“Oh, fantastic, you’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“One of those jerkoffs who thinks it’s beneath him to tell a woman anything. I bet you think we’re too fragile to handle it too.”
“Sometimes you are.”
“Wow. At least you’re honest.”
Why is it that every hot guy I meet has to be a sexist asshole?
“Will you at least tell me where you came from? And how those bullets bounced off you like you’re freaking Superman?”
“Not yet.”
“Look, if I’m going to help a vigilante killer, I want to know what the hell is going on.”
“You are not ready,” he croaks. “Besides, I am tired.”
Worry stabs at me. His voice sounds worn out, breathy. I snatch a glance at him. His eyes are droopy. There is an alarming black vein running from his wound, up along his chest, disappearing under his cloak.
That can’t be good.
“Stay awake.” His eyelids drift closed, so I shake his shoulder. “No, you can’t sleep. Stay awake.”
His eyes open, focusing on me. “I am sorry. I should be protecting you, not leaving you alone to do for yourself.”
“Oh, knock off the macho bit. It’s not about that. If you pass out, I might not be able to wake you up again.”
“Very well.”
I shake my head. He talks so strangely, like something out of the sword and sorcery books Louie and Ryan like to read at their desks during downtime.
My eyes veer to his half-there reflection in the mirror. I shiver. “What exactly are you?”
“That will take time to explain.”
“But you will explain?”
“Yes.”
“Will you at least tell me your name?”
“Arcayos.”
I sound the name out, letting it roll off my tongue. It sounds strange and alien, and very, very old. Like something from another time. Or another world. I love the name.
“Those guys… the ones you killed. One of them called you Champion.”
“Yes,” he rasps.
“What does that mean? Champion of what?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Cassidy Morgan.”
“It’s just Cassidy. Here on Earth, we don’t use both names.”
He snorts.
“And how the hell do you know my name? Are you stalking me or something?”
I shiver, unsettled by the thought of him knowing so much about me, watching me from the shadows for the last year.
“Or something,” he says.
I click my teeth. His knack for evading questions is pissing me off. I’d love to see Captain Colburn in an interrogation room with this one. Probably should have had him direct me to his house, but I have a feeling he wouldn’t tell me where he lives anyway.
“We’re here,” I say, pulling up into the driveway in front of my fourplex. The redbrick building is a dark shadow in the night, the other cars silent. “Looks like no one’s around,” I add, opening the back door of the vehicle and helping him out of it. “If we’re lucky, no one will see me dragging a serial killer up my steps.”
Arcayos groans in pain as I get him on his feet. That golden medallion drops out of the opening of his red jacket, swinging on its thick rope chain. It isn’t glowing like it was when I saw him a year ago.
“Things are not always as they seem,” he grunts.
“Oh, so you didn’t just behead three men?”
He says nothing, pushing the door shut with his hand.
“Come on. You have to help me here.” I put his arm around my shoulders, my knees almost buckling under his weight. “God,