one, she sure as shit wasn’t going to give him a chance. Not that he could blame her. He sucked down more salt, trying to banish the bad taste that went all the way to his soul.
A sound alerted him, and he stretched to his feet, remaining in the tree line as he made his way to the cliffs. He stopped short at seeing Promise on her back deck beneath a sloping roof, her arms hugging her body, her gaze out at the far sea.
His heart cracked. Her melancholy stirred a part of him he’d long forgotten. His chest aching, he lifted his head to scent the wind.
No fear. The woman wasn’t afraid. Just lonely. And her scent, wild purple heather, engulfed him. He inhaled sharply, taking in as much of her as he could. Light spilled out from the house, glimmering on her long curls and smooth skin. The almond shape of her eyes gave her a mysterious appearance, and the night masked the pretty bourbon color he remembered from the other day.
He twisted to the side to get a better view, and a leaf rustled beneath his foot.
She jumped and swiveled toward him.
He held his breath, not moving. The trees covered him, but he was a predator, and most prey could sense danger. For his kind, humans were definitely prey.
She searched the tree line and then turned, hustling back inside to shut her sliding glass door. The lock echoed loudly, and then curtains blanketed the remaining light from within.
He let out his breath. Crap. He hadn’t meant to scare her. Damn it. He stuffed his mouth with peanut shells. It’d serve him right if he choked. Instead, his fangs worked on the shells, and he discarded them, eating more of the peanuts. Then he sank to the ground, scanning the rear of the home. The cops could watch the front.
Would she have liked him before he’d gone to hell and tried to kidnap her? He’d been the organized member of the Seven. The guy who kept everyone else in line and secured headquarters and homes for them all. Heck. He’d even made sure Benny had his favorite red Swedish fish candy on demand.
Then he’d ceased to be him. He closed his eyes, wondering how he’d survived. There had to be a bigger plan in play. He should most certainly be dead, even with his torso fused into a solid shield by the Seven ritual, forever protecting his internal organs. For the rest of his life, no matter how long he lived, he’d never forget the joy on his brothers’ faces after he’d fallen from hell. They’d lifted him off the ground, engulfing him in hugs. Benny and Adare had held on the longest, for they’d known each other most of their lives.
He’d endured their touch on his destroyed body as long as he could, finally breaking free and backing away. His head down, feeling nothing but pain, he’d tried to escape. To go into the lake and just disappear.
They wouldn’t let him.
From that day on, they didn’t touch him. But they were always around. Benny telling jokes and Adare trying to engage in small talk. That alone was torture. Logan and Garrett, the two young members, had been thoughtful and kind. Welcoming with no pressure.
But Ronan. Ronan had seen the torture in Ivar because he’d felt it himself. They had to get Quade free.
It had taken Ivar a month to relearn how to speak, first in Swedish and then English. To make his vocal chords create sound that made sense. His body had healed, except for the burn scars down his neck and the ones inside his throat. His mind was another matter.
Mostly he was lucid unless he was sleeping. But he made mistakes. Stupid ones like trying to kidnap Promise Williams.
The acceptance and support of his brothers had helped him to regain his sanity, and his brain was probably as good as it could get. He could mimic humor and other emotions, but he wasn’t sure he fooled anybody.
His soul was something else altogether. He had never given much thought to the soul—not until his had been ripped apart by forces not found in this world. Even now, pieces of it had to be still struggling with those shards of ice and boiling flames so far from this peaceful rainy night. He didn’t know much, but one thing was absolute.
He’d never be whole again.
Chapter Four
Promise finished her coffee, facing Detective Jones across the desk in her office