Part 4 (1/2)

”Huh. Interesting.” I looked outside at the black nothingness that whizzed by us as he drove beyond the suburbs of Edinburgh into the lowlands, quickly heading into the windswept hills of East Lothian on a long, empty road. ”I'm Canadian. And American.

Both. My dad is from the US, but my mother is Canadian, and I grew up there. I've got a dual citizens.h.i.+p thing going, in case you were wondering. That's how I was able to open up a business here.”

He said nothing. I took that to mean he wasn't wondering about the ins and outs of my heritage.

”Did I thank you for giving me a ride to your house? Clare has a car, but she tends to start writing poetry to the stars or a flower and doesn't pay much attention to actually driving, so I really do appreciate you giving me a lift.”

”Yes, you thanked me.”

”Good.” Silence fell between us-not a companionable, comfortable silence, but one that was fairly awkward and weighty. It itched along my skin like raw wool. ”Finn was nice. Are you sure he won't mind being left in Edinburgh? I hated to rush you into leaving, but I wanted to see the house before deep night was upon us.”

”No, he won't mind.”

”OK.” More silence. I surrept.i.tiously picked at a fingernail for a moment, wondering why I could be silent with so many other people without feeling anything, but was bothered by Paen's silence. I mused on that for a few minutes, then decided I'd put the question to the man who sat so close to me that his hand brushed my leg every time he s.h.i.+fted gears (something I was very well aware of). ”Paen-”

His shoulder twitched.

”Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you by using your first name. I realize that's rather unprofessional of me, but it kind of slipped out.”

”I don't mind if you call me Paen,” he said, rather gruffly, I thought.

”Oh. Good. I'm Sam, by the way. Do you dislike talking to me?”

That got me a startled glance. ”Pardon?”

”I wondered if you disliked talking to me. Especially since you were doing that whole non-verbal talking-into-my-head thing earlier.”Thank heavens for seat belts, that's all I can say. The belt kept me from bas.h.i.+ng my brains out on the winds.h.i.+eld when Paen slammed the brakes on, sending the car into a little spin in the (thankfully empty) rain-slickened road.

”Are you all right?” he asked once the car came to a stop, flipping on the overhead light so he could peer anxiously at me.

”I think so.” I sat back and rubbed a spot on my neck where the seat belt had burned it. ”I'm just a little shaky. Nothing like pulling a one-eighty to get your adrenaline flowing, eh?”

He didn't answer, just opened the car door and got out to look at the front of the car. I sat for a minute, figuring he was just checking on the car, but when he started walking away from me, I got out.

”Is the car OK?”

”Yes. I'm looking for the demon,” he said, peering into the night. ”d.a.m.n. I wish I'd thought to bring a torch.”

”Demon? What demon?” I hurried over to where he stood, the car's rear lights our only illumination.

”The one that I almost hit when it jumped out in front of me. At least I a.s.sume it was a demon-it rose up from the ground, and there are few beings but demons which will do that.” He frowned at me. ”Do you have much experience with them?”

”Demons? No, not a lot,” I answered, thinking about the one who had given me the bird statue. ”All I really know about them is that they're bad news, and they have a nasty-smelling smoke.”

”Exactly,” he said, lifting his head.

I sniffed along with him, the faintest hint of a smoky stench reaching my nose. ”That does smell like a demon. That or really bad fertilizer. But why would one jump out in front of us?”

”A good question, but one I can't answer right now,” he said, giving me a gentle push toward the car.

I reentered the car, belting myself in, pulling down a small mirror to look at my neck.

”You're hurt,” Paen said as he buckled up, leaning close to me in order to eye the spot on my neck that stung. That's what my mind said, anyway. My body didn't care why he was close; it just wanted him closer.

”Not really. It's just a little abrasion. All in a day's work,” I quipped, suddenly overwhelmed by his nearness. His aftershave, a citrusy scent that mingled with something that was much earthier, much more male, and 100 percent pure pheromone as far as I was concerned, curled around me. I breathed it in again, my breath coming in short, shallow little bursts. s.h.i.+vers skittered down my back while goose b.u.mps broke out on my arms. I'd never had this sort of a reaction to anyone before, and I wasn't quite sure if I was comfortable with such an overpowering reaction. I tried to a.n.a.lyze just what it was about him that held such an attraction for me, and ended up putting it down to the fact that he was different from everyone I'd met before. Paen was missing something; he had a great need in him that I could feel even when I wasn't near him. That need called to me.

His eyes lifted from the spot on my neck to mine, two brilliant points of silver light in the dark, and I was suddenly reminded that needy and attractive as he was, I was trapped in a confined s.p.a.ce in the middle of nowhere with a man who had no soul, a man for whom the word dinner meant who, not what.

”You're not going to bite me, are you?” I asked on a breath, my heart beating madly from the combination of adrenaline and Paen.

”Do you want me to?” His voice made me s.h.i.+ver again, the sound of it like the touch of raw silk on my bare flesh. In the blackness of the car, his eyes shone like the purest mercury.

”Part of me does,” I answered. ”Part of me wants to...” ”What?” he asked, his head moving closer until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, just above the spot the seat belt had sc.r.a.ped.

”Bite you back.”

His head tilted slightly as he considered me. ”How would you bite me?”

”How as in how, or how as in give you a demonstration?”

His eyes glittered.

”Demonstrate how you would like to bite me.”

I swear, looking into those eyes was like falling into a pool of quicksilver. They seemed to mesmerize me, pull me in and consume me. Without thinking of the wisdom (or lack) of making out with a client, I tipped my head slightly to the side and nuzzled a spot behind his ear, where the tendons of his neck met his jaw. All reason, all common sense, all thought but that of the man whose presence drew me disappeared as I licked a spot, then gently bit it.

Paen sucked in air, shuddering slightly as I nibbled the spot behind his ear, swirling my tongue over it once more before withdrawing.

”That is how I would like to bite you. Well, just one of the ways.”

He didn't move, didn't pull back in disgust or triumph, either of which I half expected.

”You are a very honest woman,” he said after a moment's silence.

I frowned. That wasn't quite the response I had imagined to my nibbles. ”Yes. Half elf, remember? It pretty much makes it impossible to lie, what with that whole elves-can't-dissemble thing happening. Plus I've found it's just easier all around to tell the truth. Did you like it?”

”Yes.” Too much.

I smiled.

”Would you like me to reciprocate?” he asked, his breath hot on my skin. I s.h.i.+vered again, a delicious s.h.i.+ver of antic.i.p.ation and excitement and arousal. Beneath that, a deep, endless need of my own burst into life, consuming me with its power.

”You know, I think I would.”

Heat flared along my neck as his tongue swept across the spot that had been sc.r.a.ped. Pleasure of a nature more profound than just s.e.xual burst into being within me, setting my whole body trembling as his tongue caressed the sore spot, taking with it all the pain and discomfort, and leaving me strung tighter than a concert violin.

”You're hungry,” I said suddenly, wondering how I knew.

”I am.” His teeth nipped my skin.

”Then go ahead.” I waited, my body clenched hard.