Right now, the only thing he wanted to do was to kick open the door and make love to her. To have her touch him. Hold him.
Welcome him.
But it wasn't meant to be.
His heart heavy, he forced himself to leave her.
He had work to do.
Amanda glanced at the clock. Twelve-thirty. Normally she would be fast asleep by now. But to Hunter the night would still be young.
She wondered what he did during the wee hours. Surely he didn't kill Daimons every night. There weren't that many of them, were there?
Before she realized what she was doing, she got out of bed and wandered through the enormous house. She didn't know where Hunter was. He hadn't bothered to show her his room while he had given her the tour.
But her instinct told her his room would be upstairs. Probably as far away from hers as possible.
She was halfway up the stairs when she heard something odd outside. It was a strange whooshing noise.
Backtracking, she found her way to the dark game room. There was no light, but the moon and stars were so bright outside that she could see a shadowy figure in the atrium. Her first impulse was to call for Hunter; she paused.
There was something very familiar about that figure. Walking closer to the French doors, she recognized Terminator and Hunter. Hunter was dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. He was tossing a baseball into a net-covered frame that bounced it back to him.
As soon as he threw the ball, Terminator would give chase, then the dog would bound back to Hunter.
She smiled at the sight. Hunter patted Terminator, then returned to tossing the ball.
She started to leave, but couldn't. Instead, she cracked open the door.
Hunter turned instantly. The forgotten ball rebounded and caught him on the head. He hissed as he rubbed his head and Terminator chased after the baseball.
"Did you need something?" he asked, his voice sharp.
I need you to kiss me.
She swallowed. "I just didn't know where you were."
"Now you do."
The ice was back in his voice. This wasn't the Hunter who had been with her a short time ago, this was the Dark-Hunter who had awakened in the factory with her. Guarded. Distant.
And it cut through to her heart. It wasn't just the lump on his head from the baseball making him snappish; his old barriers were back in place. He was pushing her away.
Taking the hint, she nodded. "Yeah, well, good night."
Kyrian watched her leave. He'd wounded her. He could sense it and he hated himself for it.
Call her back.
But to what purpose?
There could never be anything between them. Not even friendship.
Grinding his teeth, he went back to his pitching. As he worked out, he tried to focus on Desiderius. Tried to will the Daimon into his grasp.
It was useless.
Amanda was still with him. It was her face he saw when he closed his eyes. Her scent that permeated his senses.