The holy water passed through the warding stones.
Ah. Good. That means she's set the wards to react to flesh and blood, not inanimate objects.
Then why did it react to the demon? They aren't real and living in the human sense of the word.
They are when they're in flesh form. Sprinkle the salt liberally across the pentagram, then use the water to form two circles around the warding stones. Make sure there's about five feet between each one.
Why? I began to spread the salt around, making sure my hand didn't actually go anywhere near the flickers of red lightning.
Because evil might be able to step over one circle, but it can't step over two.
I couldn't see why not, but then, I didn't know a whole lot about magic, holy water, and demons. Nor did I really want to learn anything more.
I finished spreading the salt, covering as much of the pentagram's surface as I could, then did the two circles. The water sizzled like acid as it hit the floor, burning a light trench in the wood and filling the room with whitish steam.
With that done, I got the hell out of there. Quinn pulled off his sweater and offered it to me as I closed the front door.
I looked at the sweater, then at him. "You don't like me half naked?"
"I love you naked, but you can't drive home like that because the cops will pull you over."
He shoved the sweater my way again. I crossed my arms and pointedly ignored the offer. I had clothes in my car if I wanted them. I didn't need his, no matter how deliciously warm they might smell. "Why would I be driving home?"
"Because you need to shower and rest."
"And what will you be doing while I'm showering and resting?" I knew exactly what he'd be doing. I just wanted to know if he'd actually admit it. Admit that he was mollycoddling me yet again. I mean, hell, yeah, I was bloody and sore and in desperate need of a bath, but it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last. And it certainly didn't stop me from doing my job.
It was scary to think I now actually considered being a guardian my proper job. Lord, how things had changed.
"I'm going to be taking care of our magician." He placed the sweater on my shoulder.
I shifted my shoulder and let it slip to the ground. "Not alone, you won't be."
His obsidian gaze seemed to be growing darker, deeper, until it felt like I was falling into a tunnel - a tunnel I could so easily, so willingly get lost in. This vampire might not be my soul mate, but that didn't mean there wasn't something good between us. Something special.
An alarm went off somewhere in the back of my thoughts. I blinked, but the sensation of being caught by the darkness of his eyes didn't go away.
"You will go home, Riley," he said softly, "and you will rest."
The tunnel seemed to be getting deeper and deeper, until it was all around me, swamping me, overrunning my will and my mind. All I could see was the coal-dark depths of his eyes and all I could hear was his words. The compulsion to obey them swam through me, beating at my skin, my nerves, my brain. So much so that I actually took a step back before I realized it. It took a whole lot of determination to stop a second step and remain still.
I knew then what he was doing.
Anger hit, fast and furious, momentarily weakening the force of his command. I slammed down my shields and severed the mental connection between us, but it was too late, far too late. The compulsion had already been embedded into my consciousness, a desire that beat at my senses with every rapid heartbeat.
I clenched my fists and resisted the urge to scream and rant and rave at him. It took every ounce of control I had to simply say instead, "Don't do this."
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't do what?"
My hands were clenched so hard my fingernails were beginning to dig into my palms. The pain helped keep my anger in check, and the compulsion momentarily at bay.
"Don't play me for a fool, Quinn. I warned you once what would happen if you ever tried to use your vampire wiles on me, and I meant every word."
He looked away for a second, studying the street behind me, his expression calm, giving little away. If anything, that very lack of expression only increased the fury rising inside me. I hated the fact I could never read him as well as he could read me.
Hated the fact he was forcing me to a decision I never wanted to make. And an action I never wanted to take.
He looked back and said, "I'd rather have you angry and alive, than dead." His fingers touched my cheek, his skin so warm against mine. "Be sensible. Go home and be safe."