Besides, he'd already warned her not to expect anything more than a partnership from him. He was a loner. He wanted a woman to keep him company at night, nothing more.
And as much as she wanted Jon to hold her and kiss her and make love to her, she knew one night with him would never be enough. He'd shown her a tenderness, a caring that she'd never thought to see from a man. Because of that, she was beginning to realize she didn't want to spend the rest of her life alone. She needed someone like Jon in her life. Only he'd already made it clear he wasn't available for anything more than friendship.
She returned her gaze to his. His arms were crossed, and his mouth was set into a grim line. She wondered why. "What went wrong?" He grimaced. Annoyance ran across his face, thundercloud dark. "You."
"Me?" She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "How the hell did I stop you? I wasn't even there."
He ran a hand roughly through the sweat-darkened tangle of his hair "You were everywhere."
His words whispered through her heart. She looked away from the sudden intensity of his gaze. If she wasn't very careful, she could find herself believing that he actually cared for her.
Then she frowned. Something weird was going on here. He wouldn't willingly say something like that, not after warning her so often not to get involved. So why had he? And why was he answering every one of her questions? "Why are you acting so strangely?"
He grimaced. "Eleanor slipped me some sort of drug."
"Is it dangerous?" She quickly pushed away from the sofa. "Do you need a doctor?"
"I don't think so." Again his answer seemed reluctant. "It's just screwing up my ability to see and walk properly and making me tell you things you have no right to know. And it's really pissing me off, Maddie." She tried to ignore the accusation in his eyes. Evan was her nephew. She had every right, and every intention, of finding out all she could about the woman who'd taken him. And about the man who was helping her find him.
"So how did you escape if the drug is affecting you so badly?" His smile was grim. "Hit her before the drug took hold." He /#//her? Images of Brian flickered through her mind, and she closed her eyes against them. Jon was no Brian. He didn't hit women for pleasure, that much she was certain of.
Still..."Is she okay?"
"Of course she is. I just hit her once to knock her out." He frowned at her suddenly. "Why the hell should you care? The woman probably sent those sylphs to attack you, and she sure as hell tried to kill me with that white ash arrow. She probably would have finished the job tonight if I hadn't escaped."
"I know, it's just that I-" She hesitated and shook her head. What on Earth was she thinking? Jon had no need, and probably no desire, to learn about her violent history with
Brian. "Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?"
"I'm sure. The effects aren't as strong as they were." He was still watching her warily. She frowned, wondering why. Then it hit her. He 'd taken a drug that was making him answer questions truthfully. A grin twitched her lips. That was a temptation almost too good to resist.
"Don't go there," he warned softly. "You may not like what you find." She scowled at him. He sat in the middle of the bed, a golden man dressed in black, with a past just as dark. He was as much as an enigma to her now as when he'd first appeared in her bedroom. That wasn't likely to change unless she seized this moment and ran with it.
"Who do you work for, Jon?" she asked softly.
She saw the struggle in his eyes, could see his irritation in the sudden tension knotting the muscles in his arms. She knew it wasn't right, but what else could she do? Jon hadn't exactly been forthright with any sort of information—this might be her only chance to learn something about him.
"The Damask Circle." His answer was ground out between clenched teeth. He was fighting the drug in his system, fighting answering her questions. I'm not being fair, she thought, but she had no intention of stopping now that she'd started. "And they are?"
He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. His gaze condemned her. "It's an organization of psychics, witches and paranormal creatures such as vampires and shapeshifters. We hunt down the bad things, the creatures that hide in shadows and kill."
His voice was flat and cold. She stared into his eyes and saw the horror lying there. Vampires and shapechangers and God knows what else were an everyday part of this man's life, and it scared the hell out of her. As did the knowledge that there was actually an organization out there to fight these things. And to think she'd spent the last six years hiding from the world because she'd thought her firestarting abilities were a threat to everyone. What a joke that seemed now.
She rubbed her eyes wearily, then looked up again. Deep down in the blue depths of his eyes, past the shadows and the death, she saw the hint of despair and wondered at its reason. "Things like the people who took Evan?"
"Yes."
"And Eleanor is one of those things?"
"Yes."
Sweat beaded his forehead. How much of the truth drug had he ingested? How much time did she have before he came out of its influence? What would he do or say to her when he did? "What is Eleanor?"
"A shapeshifter, and old magic. Evil incarnate." And she had Evan, for God only knows what purpose. "Old magic? What do you mean by that?"
His fist slammed down on the bed. "Damn it, Maddie, just stop. You're putting yourself in greater danger by asking all this."
She crossed her arms and ignored his warning. "Just answer the question." He made a sound that was almost a growl. "It means she can control magic. The older the magic, the older, more powerful the person."