Alec had, and a moment later Alec was back. Still naked, but minus the blood, his handsome face marred by a fierce scowl.
Eve picked up the apple and threw it at him.
CHAPTER 7
Alec caught the apple and crushed it into a juicy pulp with his fist.
He was a successful hunter because of his patience. Unlike most Marks, his goal wasn’t quantity but quality. Infernals were like all parasitic organisms. They learned, adapted, mutated. As they survived repeated attempts on their lives, they grew stronger and more formidable.
When Alec was summoned to make a kill, he was prepared to wait for days, weeks, months, or even years to strike. Long, protracted battles were wearisome and drew too much attention. He preferred a quick assassination, and he bided his time until that opportunity presented itself.
That was why he was frustrated by his inability to be patient with Abel. His brother was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Alec couldn’t ignore him or forgive him. The grudge he carried was too deeply ingrained.
With a quick stride, he moved to the kitchen and opened the trash compactor. He unclenched his fist, releasing the destroyed apple to thud to the bottom of the lined basket. Sticky juice coated his fingers and he watched, detached, as it dripped. Drop after drop.
Eve made a small noise and he glanced at her. She stood nearby, flushed and bright eyed. Aroused.
Alec growled low in his throat. “Stay away from him.”
Her chin lifted. She looked prepared to argue, then she turned around and lifted to her tiptoes, pulling open a cupboard and reaching for a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream.
“If you’re looking for a buzz,” he bit out, “you won’t get one there.”
She paused midmovement.
“Your body doesn’t process alcohol—or any mind-altering substance—the same way it used to.”
Her hand fell as a fist into the counter. She faced him, her sloe eyes narrowing with flaring anger. “Are you saying I can’t get high?”
“You can orgasm from here to eternity,” he said roughly. “That high enough for you?”
“Fuck.”
“I’m happy to oblige.”
“Oh, shut up!” she snapped. “This is entirely your fault.”
“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, his blood hot and his temper high. He’d been punished for killing his brother again, which left Alec spoiling for a fight. Or a hard, raw screw. Since the latter was what had gotten Eve in trouble in the first place, he would be better off settling for the former. “Your life just blew up in your face and ‘shut up’ is the best you can do?”
Her fists clenched, and he felt a surge of satisfaction. If she was pissed off at him, she wouldn’t be thinking about Abel.
“I don’t know,” she retorted. “I’m feeling like a superhero. I might be able to kick your naked ass. Maybe we’d both feel better if I did.”
Alec laughed and moved to the sink to wash his hands. “You can say that after watching me kill a man? You’ve got balls, angel. Thank God, ’cause you’ll need ’em.”
“Don’t make light of this, Alec.”
Turning off the tap, he crossed over to her. His hips pinned her to the cupboard while his wet hands caressed her cheeks. “I’m not.”
“I feel like I’ve lost my mind.”
“You haven’t lost anything. You’re still the same smart, sexy woman I remember.”
“I wasn’t a woman then,” she grumbled.
He smoothed her eyebrows and followed the curve of her cheekbones. “You gonna argue with me about that, too?”
Eve sighed and rested her cheek into his palm. “You killed him.”
“Yeah.”
“Explain that to me.” Her dark eyes gazed up at him with a mixture of revulsion and wary fascination. “He said it wasn’t the first time.”
“‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’” he recited softly.
Eve blinked up at him, a frown marring the beauty of her face. “You’re going to quote scripture at a time like . . .”
As her voice faded, Alec watched her confusion turn into a slowly dawning comprehension. She had never been able to hide anything from him, but she’d have to learn to don a poker face now. Infernals would take advantage of any perceived weakness.
“The Mark of Cain,” she whispered. “Alec Cain.”
“I know it sounds fantastical,” he began tightly.
“I believe you.” She made an impatient gesture with her hand and barked a little laugh. “I’m not even all that surprised. Not after the last week.
“Seven full days. Shit . . . I suppose that’s not a coincidence.”
“There’s no such thing as coincidence.”
“What’s going on?” Her hand covered the spot on her arm where the mark rested. “What