Necromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 6)

He cradled her head against his stomach and wrapped his arms around her, but she pulled away.

“There’s only one person who can help you, Ivan.”

He clenched his jaw. “No.”

She pushed to her feet, searching his eyes. “A shifter tried to kill you. Shifters don’t attack humans for fun. He had a damn good reason for aiming that gun at you. Why?”

Frustration welled up in him. “I don’t know, dammit.”

“Your life is in danger, and you have no idea why. The killer is a shifter, and now the police are going to get involved. When they do, your chance of walking away free is screwed. Once they find out the man who held that gun is not human, they’re not letting you go. Ever. Our only chance is my father. He’ll know how to keep you safe.”

He turned his back on her. “No.”

“This isn’t the time to nurture your dented pride.”

He spun around. “I refuse to accept help from him.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

She was right, he didn’t have any other suggestions, but accepting help from the man who humiliated him and told him he wasn’t good enough for the Jones family?

She spoke behind him. “If not for you, do it for me.”

Her words stilled him. Again, she used his phrase against him. Wasn’t this what he’d asked of her when she’d said she didn’t want to sing? Tonight’s attack could very well have something to do with Boris, and Boris had threatened Alice. He’d never accept help from her father for himself, but for her, he’d swallow his pride. If it meant Alice’s safety, he’d do anything. Up to now, he’d kind of hoped Boris wasn’t real. He’d hoped the ghost was a figment of his fucked-up imagination, but that bullet was damn real, and Alice had been standing above him, right in the line of fire. If someone meant her harm, she’d have been an open target. He shuddered.

She wrapped her fingers around his arm. “For me.”

For me. It held a different meaning, a promise of care that reached beyond the physical. He turned slowly to look down at her eyes, like tiger gemstones, so pretty and sparkly with unshed tears. “For you?”

“I care about you, Ivan. I may even still love you a little, even if you’ll never love me back.”

His heart jerked to a stop. It was more than he could ask for, much more than he’d expected. The pain that lodged in his ribs and made it hard to draw in air was because he knew he was going to hurt her. He couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear. Instead of giving her words, he gave the only thing he had to offer. He pulled her to him and kissed her gently. Her lips parted without hesitation. The depth of her mouth was a sweet temptation, one he’d claimed just as he’d claimed every other part of her body before any other man. He’d keep his promise of being her last. He repeated it to himself while he poured his soul into the kiss.

A knock on the door made him groan. Kissing Alice slow and sweet was the hottest thing in the world. He wasn’t ready to let go. From the way she clung to him, neither was she, but the knocking turned persistent.

It was Alice who broke the kiss, her face flushed and her lips red. “Is that a yes?”

He closed his eyes briefly. Soon, Alice would find out the truth about him, about how fucked up he really was. She may hate him after that, but he was keeping what was his.

“No matter what happens,” he said, “I won’t let you go. You’re not walking away.”

Her expression turned sad. Whoever was at the door was hammering on it, now. Screw them. They could wait.

“Alice.” He cupped her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Princess.”

She avoided his eyes by rummaging through her handbag. “I’ll call my father. He’ll tell us what to do.”

The door banged against the wall with Johnny almost falling through it. “What in God’s name is going on in here? Alice, why didn’t you open the door? I was worried to the point of getting a migraine.” He turned to Ivan. “The police are here. They’re ready to question you.”

Alice went on tiptoes and kissed Ivan on the cheek. She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling his ear down to her lips. “Don’t say anything.”

With a last look over her shoulder, she left the room. His soul just about left the building. Without her, he was as empty as the last nine miserable years of his rocking, hollow life.

In an empty rehearsal room, Alice sat down and stared at her phone. Her finger shook as she scrolled through the names and stopped on one she hadn’t dialed in years. The number could’ve changed. There was a good chance he wouldn’t want to speak to her. For all she knew, he was dead. She took a deep breath and pressed the button.