facing a predicament like this—with Aimee lost and on the loose out there.
“Say something,” she hissed. “I’m sure you want to rub it in that you knew this was going to happen. That we should have put her out of her misery that first night, right?”
He shook his head. “I’m not saying that at all.” He’d only been thinking it. “I agreed to this. And we’ll continue looking for her tomorrow.”
Anger flushed her face. Without a word, she stalked past him and into the bedroom she had shared with Aimee, slamming the door behind her.
He glared at that closed door. Anger spiked inside him that she was so obviously angry with him. He understood that she was upset, but why take it out on him? He’d done nothing except make a promise he shouldn’t have made in the first place.
He muttered low in his throat and knocked a lamp to the floor with a crash.
He shouldn’t have promised that he could find Cyprian before the full moon. He shouldn’t have gotten himself tangled with a woman and a kid. What was he thinking? He’d never had the time or need for such things in his life before. And he refused to now.
TWENTY-TWO
She wasn’t sticking around.
Adrenaline pumped through her as this decision surged through her veins to her head in a scary, burning rush. Her hands trembled as she shoved her hairbrush into her bag.
She spun around, searching for the rest of the few things she’d brought with her. Clothes mostly, but she knew she would need everything she had where she was going. She checked her wallet, counting her cash. She didn’t keep a credit card. As much as she moved around, it was easier to just live on cash.
She knew what she had to do—what needed to be done … even though she’d always sworn to never consider doing such a terrible thing. Even her own mother killed herself to avoid such a fate. She’d only surrendered when the demons had become too much, tormenting her and driving her mad. As much as she resented her mother’s actions, a small part of Darby had always respected that her mother had never caved to the pressure that demons placed upon her.
Her throat grew tight, air hard to draw into her lungs. Unbelievable as it seemed, the moment had come when the prospect seemed not only palatable but necessary. The sacrifice would be worth it. Aimee deserved a chance at life. She’d endured so much already.
The door to her bedroom flung open.
She spun around with a gasp, plunging her hands behind her, stopping them from fumbling through her luggage and alerting Niklas to the fact that she was leaving. “Ever heard of knocking?”
He stalked into the room and stopped before her, his face fierce, the silvery light back in his indigo eyes. “We need to get a few things straight.”
She swallowed, not liking the hardness in his voice or the way his jaw clenched. He was pissed.
“Yeah?” She swallowed.
“What you’re doing is wrong.”
Panic fluttered in her belly. He knew she was leaving?
She lifted her chin, determined nothing he said—or did—would stop her from going, from doing what needed to be done. “W-what are you talking about?”
He jabbed a finger in the air, inches from her nose, before continuing, “Blaming me, blaming you—it’s just pointless, Darby.”
He didn’t know. She sucked in a deep breath and glanced away, trying to keep the guilt from her eyes—because her decision had been reached. She’d leave tonight. While he slept. Before he woke.
“There’s no point arguing about this. Whether I blame myself, you …” She shook her head. “It changes nothing.”
But he didn’t look like he was finished. Which was really too bad. They stood toe to toe, their angry breaths the only sound in the room.
If this would be the last time she saw him, she regretted that it was like this. She turned, unable to bear the sight of him any longer. It just made it too much … too hard.
His hard hand clamped down on her arm and hauled her back around. Her body slammed flush against him and his mouth came down over hers, devouring, moving and firing instant heat and sensation to every nerve in her body.
It took her only a second to respond.
As it sunk in that this would be her last night with Niklas—last sight, last touch, last taste—she threw her arms around his neck. Perhaps this would be her last chance with any lover of her own choosing