But she didn’t have to.
She was rusty, struggling to find the right words, but at least a rough chronology of the last week or so kept her on track. As she went along, not even adding paragraphs, the periods like tent poles holding the narrative up, she didn’t know whether this would help her later or hurt. Back when her memories had been tampered with, anytime she got too close to what had been covered up, the headaches had been one hell of a punishment.
But at least she would know it happened, she told herself.
Oh, who was she kidding.
She was trying to make sure she had a record of the male who was in her basement, and it was ironic that someone as unforgettable as him was in danger of being lost to her mind. At the end of the day, she just wanted some permanence to the fact that she had known, in the midst of the cold, cruel world…
Well, what love felt like.
* * *
Balthazar came awake in a violent surge, and as he sat upright, he brought his gun with him, the grab-and-point as reflexive as opening his eyes—
“It’s me! Don’t shoot!”
The instant he heard Erika’s voice at the base of the cellar stairs, he diverted the weapon so it was pointed at the washing machine and dryer. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry—”
She lifted a pair of coffee mugs over her head like it was a stickup. And then she laughed a little. “Don’t feel bad. I did the same thing the other night at the Bull Pen.”
“Bull Pen?” he said as he tucked the gun back under the lip of the sofa.
“It’s what we call the area I work in when I’m at headquarters.” She came over and gave him one of the mugs. “And it was the night before last. A cleaning person came in after hours and startled me—God, it feels like a month ago. I still have to file a report on the incident.”
As he took a sip, he studied her carefully, but she seemed okay as she sat with him. Actually, better than okay. She was radiantly beautiful, her lips swollen from his mouth, her hair drying around the shoulders of a blue bathrobe, her feet in slippers.
“I think I know what your favorite color is,” he murmured as he pulled the duvet she’d brought down earlier up a little higher on his stomach.
In spite of how many times he’d made love to her, he was hard again. Ready to take her again. He’d marked her inside and out, but he wanted his fresh scent to be on her. In her.
“Oh, really? So what color is it?”
“Blue.” He patted the couch, then reached out for the hem of the robe as she sat with him. “Definitely blue.”
Their eyes met, and he felt a sorrowful yearning that made no sense. It wasn’t as if she were on the other side of the globe—she was right in front of him. And yet all he could sense was a distance so great he would never be able to close it.
“Hi,” he said softly.
The smile that hit her face was small, a secret for only him to know, and he loved that. “Hi.”
When they fell silent again, she cleared her throat. “How’s the coffee?”
“Perfect.”
“I didn’t know whether you liked sugar or cream.”
“I like it any way you make it for me—”
As he stopped talking and looked around the cellar, she said, “What’s wrong?”
Like an idiot, he twisted to the side and checked out the cushions he’d been on. “I… was asleep.”
“You sure were. When I woke up, I was careful not to disturb you.”
“No, I mean I was asleep.” He patted his bare chest with his hand. “I didn’t dream.”
“Well, that can sometimes be a good thing—”
“The demon didn’t come to me. She left me alone.” He pegged her with his eyes. “Did you dream of anything?”
“No, not that I can recall.” Erika sat forward. “Wait, does this mean… the demon is gone from you?”
“I don’t know. But every day that I slept, she’s shown up.” He shied away from any details concerning what the female had done to him in his dreams. “Not just now though.”
“Maybe she’s fallen off the edge of the world,” Erika offered.
“Maybe.”
Except they weren’t that lucky. Still, it was the first time he hadn’t been hounded since that December night and what a frickin’ relief.
“Clearly, you’re my lucky charm,” he said with a smile.
“I wouldn’t put too much faith in me. But I’m happy to be of service.”
As she ducked her head in a mock bow, he thought about the situation she was in with him in her house, in her life. Making love to her. Warming the couch in her basement and tucking a comforter that smelled like her around his naked, well-used body.