Her frown deepening, she raised her chin in defiance and stepped into the room. The doors slid shut behind her.
In the decade he’d lived here, the only other person who’d been inside was Gabriel, and he’d been uninvited. The space was vibrant, more energized with her in it.
“So, this is your home.” She wandered into the living space, her boots barely making a sound on the gleaming hardwood floor. It was the tread of a hunter.
The room was stark with only a long leather sofa to break up the expanse. A large screen television hung on the wall for those rare occasions he indulged in what passed for entertainment among humans, most of it ridiculous, if not downright boring. Although, he did enjoy movies. They reminded him of the plays of old. The open area, he mostly used as a workout space.
“Minimalism.” She trailed her fingers over the back of the sofa. “Not surprising.”
“What were you expecting?” Curious, he crossed his arms and studied her. She moved with the grace of a dancer…or a fighter.
Their verbal sparring was invigorating. Those that crossed his path feared him. They either fought or ran. Morrigan was a challenge, one he couldn’t wait to explore further.
She gave a quick shrug. “I admit I wasn’t expecting the penthouse.” Then she motioned to the view of the city beyond the window. “I figured something smaller and in not quite as good an address.”
The dent in his wall, the one he hadn’t had bothered to fix yet, caught her attention. “Redecorating?”
“Something like that.”
They were circling each other. It was a dance of sorts, like two wary combatants, both of them advancing and retreating, giving no ground.
The smell of sulfur from the demon she’d fought lingered on her clothes and skin, stirring something dark and dangerous inside him.
He prowled toward her. Rather than run, which would have roused predator inside him, she faced him without flinching.
When her hand went to the knife tucked at her waist, he smiled.
“What are you doing?” Her words were level, but he detected the slightest quaver in her voice, caught a whiff of fear.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he countered.
When he took another step closer, she pulled the dagger and held it in front of her. The stance, the way she held the weapon, was that of someone with some skill. The blade was dull, not shiny. It was for killing, not for show. And contrary to what popular television shows would have people think, shiny blades gave away your position to the enemy. Silent and deadly was best. The target should never see you or the knife coming.
“I think you’re trying to intimidate me.”
“Is it working?” he asked. Over a few millennia, life could get predictable, even monotonous. Not that he was complaining. Boring was good. Much better than the alternative. Usually, he dealt with any problems and went back to his calm life.
Then he’d met Morrigan. Coincidence or design? He wasn’t a betting man, but he didn’t believe in coincidence. When he was around her, all his senses fired. All of her seemed designed to attract him. She smelled sweet underneath the blood and demon funk. Her voice soothed the savage beast inside him. And she was certainly easy on the eyes.
Dressed in black leather and brandishing a weapon, she was long and lean and deadly. A light sheen of sweat covered her face, making her skin glisten. She wore no makeup but needed none, striking enough without it.
He already knew her lips were soft. Now he wanted to peel away her clothes and discover the woman beneath.
They might be enemies, but that just added spice to the mix.
“I’ve faced more dangerous than you.” The light from the chandelier caught the reddish tones in her auburn hair, making it snap like fire.
“I seriously doubt that.” Anticipation threaded through him. First, he’d spar with her, and then he’d fuck her.
“You know what I am, don’t you?”
No point in lying. “You’re one of Lucifer’s bounty hunters.”