She jerked her head up. Her ruffled, short blond hair fell in front of her eyes. She gave it an angry sweep back, blinking rapidly. I’d told her everything a week ago while we’d both been wasted on a mix of tequila and Sambuca. “I thought you said you couldn’t trust him.”
I nodded and licked my lips. “It’s bad, Lacy.” It took more effort than it should have not to dip my head in shame. “I can’t control my demon much longer, not with him inside me. Whatever Akil might do, it couldn’t possibly be worse. I’m a mess. I’m going out every night, hunting demons, trying to convince myself I’m doing the right thing, but I can’t summon my own demon. If Akil hadn’t shown up when he did, I’m pretty sure I’d be mincemeat or the Queen of Fire. Soon, either a demon’s going to get lucky…” I gestured at my side, where the wound still throbbed. “Or I’m gonna go nuclear and kill a lot of people. And I might not come back. I might not want to come back. That’s the difference, right there.” I licked ice cream from my spoon, hardly noticing the taste.
“Maybe you should take that drug, P-C-whatever. Hey, don’t give me that look. Listen to yourself. No offense, but you’re losing it, and I gotta sleep right down the hall.”
A quick succession of knocks at the door gave me a temporary reprieve. Lacy was right, but I had an on-again-off-again relationship with ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ I often envied Ryder his staunch black and white outlook on life. All I seemed to experience was the messy gray area.
I opened the door. The sight of Stefan tightened my chest and stopped my heart for a beat. The tub of ice cream slipped from my fingers. I made an ungainly lunge. Stefan caught it, quick as lightning, and I found myself looking into his eyes as we straightened. He drew up to his full height and turned the ice cream tub over in his hand, eyebrows hiked up and lips parted. “That could have been a disaster.”
My thoughts had careened off course and jolted to a stop. The newly crowned Prince of Wrath was at my door, standing so close his icy aura tickled the fine hairs on my arms. His nonchalant stance carried the same self-assured, infallible confidence I’d come to expect from him. Only a few lines around his eyes and lips spoke of the torment he’d been through. I wanted to smooth those marks away and wished it could be that easy to erase the scars of our past.
I cleared my throat. “I’ll have my ice cream back, thank you. Unless you’re planning on sticking around this time?”
He arched a brow, hooking the corner of his sensuous lips with it, turning the faint smile into something more salacious. “You left me the last time I was here.” A low growl wove beneath his words. His demon brogue fluttered my insides and roused my demon’s curiosity.
I should be angry. He had accidentally stabbed me and then disappeared for weeks before returning with the kind of revelation you don’t just dump on someone. I’m a Prince of Hell.
“Only after you went all evil-frosty on me.”
“Ouch.” That wicked smile stayed. Damn it.
I snatched the tub from his hand. “If you want ice cream,” by the way his gaze tracked the tub, I knew he did, “you have to promise not to try and kill me while in my apartment. I’m not at my best right now.” I pointed a finger, ignoring his smirk. “So don’t fuck with me.”
It occurred to me I’d just chastised a Prince of Hell. I curled my finger back into my palm. His eyes sparkled with humor while his unseen icy touch coiled around my ankle, up my leg, around my waist… If he controlled that explorative touch, he didn’t show it. I had no idea where I stood with him. Did he want to kill me, kiss me, or screw me over? The last thing he’d told me was that he’d been promoted, and he needed help. Now, there he was, catching my ice cream like he hadn’t recently stabbed me in the chest and looking every part the rakish don’t-give-a-damn demon-hunter. The gray sweats he wore did nothing to temper the kind of sexy vibe that should be outlawed. Blonde hair licked at his cheeks and fell over his eyes. I struggled to fight back the urge to brush