Oh, but she had mixed things up tonight with a fleece on top instead of another sweatshirt—
God, she still smelled fucking amazing—and he couldn’t help but stare at her lips. The fact that they’d been at his throat, sucking . . . licking . . .
Well, it made him resent like fuck that he’d been half dead when all that had been happening. And he better stop thinking of what she’d done at his neck, or he was going to have to rearrange himself—and not because his posture was bad.
“You are not here right now,” she said in a hushed voice.
Sahvage cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not? Where am I, then? You better tell me, ’cuz otherwise I’m lost.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He leaned in and lowered his volume to match hers, like they were sharing secrets. “I’d suggest you pinch me to check and see whether I’m real, but I’m worried you’d deliberately misinterpret the invitation and throw a punch.”
“Yeah, you definitely don’t want to give me an opening like that. I’m not a violent person, but something about you—”
“Inspires you.” He brushed a hand over his short hair. “Yes, I know, I have that effect on females—”
“You do not inspire me—”
“—who are looking for books. So have you found your little Beatrix Potter set yet? Or, wait, it’s more like a Nancy Drew, right.”
That shut her up for a second.
Actually, no, that wasn’t accurate. Her eyes were talking to him pleeeeeenty.
“How did you find this house,” she demanded.
“You fed me last night.” Sahvage eased back. “Your blood is inside of me. Better than GPS.”
And hey, at least he was successful in not licking his lips as he reminded her of what he couldn’t stop thinking about. In his mind, though, he was all about the taste of her—and what do you know, that stroll down memory lane turned the cold night tropical. At least on his side of things.
For her? Antarctica had nothing on the chips of ice in her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I haven’t found what I’m looking for.”
“Pity it’s just a book.”
“I beg your pardon.”
Sahvage shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“I am not looking for you. Just so we’re clear.”
“Oh, and now you’re hurting my feelings.” He put his hand on his heart and threw his head back on a recoil. “You’re such a . . .”
“Such a what.”
As Sahvage let his words drift off, he turned around and looked out over the tangled yard. The little stone house was set way back from the country road it was on, and the property had been let go for some time, so there were brambles growing everywhere. Likewise, the dirt drive into the acreage was marked by trees that were as graceful as arthritic hands and bushes that had overgrown their shapes.
“Go ahead,” the female prompted. “Say it. You think I can’t handle an insult—”
“Shh.”
“No, I will not ‘shh’—”
Sahvage threw his hand up and continued to scan the shaggy, shadow-infested landscape. “Stop talking.”
The female snorted. “Okay, I realize this is going to come as a crushing surprise to you, but I do not have to listen—”
“Where’s the sky.”
There was a pause. “What?”
He pointed overhead. “Where are the stars. It was a clear night when I arrived here just now. Where are they.”
“It’s called cloud cover.”
The hell it is, he thought.
And meanwhile, down on the ground, there was no wind to disturb anything and no moon to throw any light—and yet something had moved out there.
Even if his eyes were telling him nothing was wrong, his instincts knew better.
“Get in the house,” he said in a low voice.
“I will. As soon as you leave—”
Sahvage pegged her with hard eyes. “I’m not bullshitting you. Something isn’t right—”
Her stare shifted over his shoulder. And then she grabbed his arm and pointed into the messy brambles. “What the hell is that?”
He wrenched back around and moved so that his body was between her and whatever was out there—and it took him less than a split second to see what she was talking about. A shadow was swift’ing across the scruffy ground, traveling like a snake over the obstacle course of downed limbs and dead weeds. Yet there was no origin for it, nothing in the air above that would cast that kind of thing. No light source, either.
“Get inside—”
Sahvage didn’t have a chance to finish the and shut the fucking door part. The slithering dark patch exploded up off the ground, becoming a three-dimensional figure that had arm- and leg-like extensions as well as a torso-core that was the size of a male.
Before Sahvage could marshal one of his weapons, the thing, whatever the fuck it was, rushed forward with a screeching sound that went into the ear and throughout the body. To protect the female behind him, Sahvage threw his arms wide—