Mercy Burns (Myth and Magic 2)

I glanced at him. “And why would you want to punish someone for once beating up a current—and unimportant—bed partner?”

“Because dragons that size should know better than to pick on a woman of any size. Even if they do think they can protect themselves.”

I smiled at this light barb, then downsized the pics and opened the folder. Leith had been right. There wasn’t much more information in there than he’d already mentioned.

I sighed in frustration, then glanced out the window. There still wasn’t any life in or around the building, although—according to the neighbors—it opened at five, which was only a few minutes away. I would have thought someone would have had to come in earlier to set things up.

“Turn around for a moment.”

Damon’s voice held a low, sexy note that had my insides twisting. My smile grew and I did as he asked. We weren’t yet touching, but I could feel the heat radiating off him.

“We’re here to watch for our suspects. If we make love, that’s not going to happen. Even Death can’t attend to two things at once.” I paused, then added wryly, “And if you pay more attention to what’s out that window than to me, I’ll be most upset.”

He chuckled softly and reached into his pocket, drawing out a small wrapped package. “I actually just wanted to give you this. I saw it when I was out buying food.”

I stared at the package, a lump in my throat and more than a little dumbstruck, then met his gaze. “Why?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to have a reason?”

“Yes.”

He smiled and took my hand, opening my fingers and dropping the little box into it. “You really have had a rough upbringing if you’re suspicious of a simple gift.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered, turning the package around. It was roughly wrapped, and the Scotch tape was messy, but right then it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Are you going to open it, or are you simply going to stare at it?”

I grinned and carefully undid the wrapping. The box inside was hard white cardboard, and looked like something that would hold jewelry. I lifted the lid carefully and discovered a necklace. The delicate gold chain was paired with a brushed gold-and-silver pendant that had a subtle lotus flower embossed on it.

“The lotus apparently symbolizes renewal, transformation, and new beginnings,” he said softly. “I thought it appropriate given everything that’s happened to you over the last few days.”

I lifted the necklace out of the box by the chain. The late afternoon light streaming in through the window glinted off the gossamer-fine metal. “It’s gorgeous,” I said, through the growing lump in my throat. This was the first time someone who wasn’t related had bought me something pretty, and that thought hurt so much I wanted to cry. “Thank you.”

“I thought it was a nice knickknack to start your new collection with.”

He took the necklace from me and motioned for me to turn around. I lifted my hair as I turned, and he put it on me. I was thankful that my back was to him—he couldn’t see the tears I was blinking furiously away.

“There,” he said, his fingers lingering against my neck. “Turn around again.”

I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath, then faced him again, moving my fingers to the pendant and cupping it gently. “It’s gorgeous,” I repeated. “Thank you.”

He smiled then leaned forward, holding my cheeks between his hands and kissing me gently. “You’re welcome. I hope it brings you everything you want in life.”

“Me, too,” I said, and wished it could bring me him. Not just for a moment or two, but a whole lot longer. A lifetime longer.

But that was a wish a simple good-luck charm was never going to be able to produce.

I looked beyond him for a moment, trying to get hold of my emotions, and suddenly saw movement on the street below us. A car had pulled up, and a blue-suited man with dark brown hair and hawkish features stepped out.

“One of our targets just showed up,” I said, partly relieved, and partly irritated, by the interruption.

He spun around, the amusement and gentleness fading from his face as if it had never been there.

“That definitely looks like the man currently calling himself Jake.”

It certainly did. And watching him walk into the club left me in little doubt that it was actually Leon. He had that same leashed-beast amble. “What’s the plan, then?”

“We hit him straight away, before anyone else gets there.”