I will need to find a willing snack.
“I wouldn’t get up if I were you.”
Zoe. The last hour of my night comes screaming back to me in a rush. Searching for Regina. Failing to find her. Stopping at a liquor store for a bottle of Absinthe and using it to dull the pain of my memories.
Then...ending up here.
She sets a mug of coffee down on the end table. “You’re naked under there, and I don’t fancy a show.”
From the way her cheeks tinge pink, she does. Very much. But I, on the other hand, do not want to give her one. This was—is—inappropriate on every level.
Drawing the blanket closer to my chest, I sit up and groan. “I owe you an apology.”
“Several.”
With a sigh, Zoe leans against the arm of a chair a few feet away. She wears a long, peach robe, and her red curls are damp. Her scent wraps around me—coconut and watermelon—and I breathe deeply, wanting more. I do not understand why her mere presence both soothes and irritates me, but under the blanket, my cock rises to attention, and I shift my legs to hide my reaction from her.
“Several, then. Was I…indelicate? Indecent?” The way my body is reacting to her now is definitely the latter, but hopefully she has not noticed. I bow my head, letting the rich scent of coffee replace all else, and the first sip eases the pounding behind my eyes.
“No. But you woke me well after midnight, stumbled in here babbling and smelling of puke, and then passed out. Plus, you left me at headquarters yesterday with no explanation. Alone. On my first day.”
She keeps her tone soft, thankfully, but the judgment is clear. She believes me to be an asshole. She would be right. I am.
“It was a difficult evening.”
“No shit.” Draining her mug, she sets it in the kitchen sink. “Your clothes are clean and hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I’m going to get dressed. There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink. Towels are in the linen closet. Shower. Use anything you need of mine—I don’t like girlie scents, so you won’t end up smelling like a flower shop—and then, assuming you weren’t a total and complete idiot and left your car wherever you were drinking, I’ll drive you to go pick it up.”
As she scoots past me, I reach out and grab her wrist. “Zoe?” She doesn’t pull away, but her shoulders stiffen and she holds her breath. “I am sorry. You deserve a better partner. If you wish, I will speak to Commander Eve.”
Her gaze softens slightly. “We both know that’s not going to happen. This is my case now just as much as it is yours. So you’re going to pull yourself out of your current pity-party-bender and start being honest with me. What I deserve—what I want—is for you to be a better partner. To help me rather than standing in my way. So get on that.”
With a little huff, she twists free of my hold, and when the bedroom door closes with a soft click, I nod. She is right. I need to be better, and I will. Because while most of the previous night is a blur, I do remember one thing very clearly.
Regina is no longer in Hell, and I fear she just kidnapped another shifter.
Zoe
Longest. Night. Ever. Lying awake as I tried to forget the sight of my partner’s mostly naked body? Torture. Listening to him scream at 3:00 a.m.? So much worse. I don’t think he remembers the nightmare. Or how I rushed out in just my sleep tank and skimpy shorts and tried to wake him. Or how he grabbed me and held on like his life depended on it for all of a minute before passing out again. Or the words he kept repeating over and over again.
“I failed you. Lost you.”
Failed me? Sure, he was an ass. And a shitty partner. But the anguish in his words was so much more than leaving me alone on my first day would ever warrant. And he certainly didn’t lose me. Was he talking about someone else?
I should tell him about the nightmare. Better to come clean now than have him remember in a week, right? Making a mental note to ask Kunchin to tell me more about incubi, I pull on a pair of jeans and a black sweater. Everything else in my wardrobe hangs off me these days, but these two pieces? They’re from my