rather chance death,” she chirped from somewhere in the room. But everything within me focused on the male touching me.
“What are you doing?” Rhys asked, and I yanked away from him with wide, horror-filled eyes. I leaned up without warning, noting that he dropped his stare to my breasts. “I’m going to need those barbells, woman.”
I gazed down at my nipples, slowly lifting my eyes back to his before bringing my hands up to cover my naked breasts. I had been licking him! I didn’t lick people I just met. Nyx licked people! Frowning, I shook my head.
“It’s surgical steel,” I admitted breathlessly. “What are you doing to me?”
“Nothing,” he grinned, bringing his hand up to the curve of my breast. His touch caused the air to still in my lungs. Leaning over, he moved toward my ear, turning at the last moment to kiss my racing pulse at the hollow column of my throat, while his finger touched the metal piercing, brushing against my nipple before dropping to my waist. “They’re silver, little liar.”
“You could tell just by touching them?” I squeaked, shifting uncomfortably in his lap. The door to the room opened, and a man handed Rhys a shirt, and I flicked my eyes to Nyx, who watched in silent amusement.
“I’m a Van Helsing. Of course, I know what type of metal it is by touch,” he answered aloofly, holding the shirt up as he slipped it over my head. “Put your arms through it.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, and he smirked, closing his eyes briefly. I uncovered my naked breasts, pushing my arms through the sleeves, quickly pulling the shirt on, discovering heated blue eyes studying me. My hands adjusted, holding on to his shoulders as he searched my face absently.
“How do you have red hair? And your eyes, they’re vividly blue instead of the normal ice color that your bloodline is known for.”
I twisted my lips into a thoughtful pout as I considered how much to tell him. “We don’t know why I came out different, only that I am.”
“What else is different?” he asked.
“What is this? Fifty questions with the hostage? You think I’m just going to answer you because I’m sitting on your lap looking cute?”
“You do look surprisingly cute on my lap.”
“Why am I in your lap?” I turned as a server approached us, handing me a plastic cup of whiskey, my lips twisting as I fought the smile. I tipped back the cup, downing the contents in a single gulp before handing it back. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t answer mine,” he smiled mischievously.
The whiskey warmed my cheeks, and I cocked my head to the side, turning to look at the bottle left on the table in the now very empty room. My stare swung back to Van Helsing, who slowly ran his eyes over my face.
“Silversmiths are never born with different coloring. Your hair isn’t dyed, and you’re not wearing contacts. Your power was intensely strong, yet lacked control. The only time you smelled of magic was when you used it, and for a few moments afterward. Now you smell human and of a meadow filled with wildflowers after a spring rain. Yet when casting, your eyes were indeed silver, as was your hair and aura. I find it highly improbable that you walked right into my path. I’ve spent months searching for a Silversmith with enough magic within her to counter the Silversmith my little brother stumbled upon weeks ago. I was beginning to think it was hopeless. Yet here you are, literally in my lap. Who sent you?” he asked softly, his keen gaze studying mine.
“No one sent me.” I swallowed as his fingers brushed lightly over my exposed midsection.
His touch consumed my mind, creating a red haze that rushed through me violently. A lazy smile played over his mouth before his tongue snaked out, licking his bottom lip, pulling my eyes to it. He sat up, forcing me to hold tighter to him until I realized he was removing his suit jacket. I leaned back slowly, watching as he shook out of it, reaching for the buttons of his white dress shirt that was damp still.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, slowly revealing a muscular chest covered in colorful tattoos.
“No,” I replied huskily, uncertain why I didn’t look away from the washboard abs begging for me to kiss and stroke them slowly. “No accidents are happening as long as I’m touching you. So what you