She also saw a response from Cael telling her to go in and wait for him, the door was unlocked. He was around the block grabbing a few things for dinner.
Well, at least she could hide out for a bit, if nothing else.
She hesitated at the door, a stark memory from the last visit here flashing in her mind. No. There wouldn’t be another replay ofthatnightmare. After all, she’d unlocked a whole new level of reality that night. One she couldn’t go back from.
Swallowing the knot from both residual adrenaline and the swelling Rich’s grip had caused, she let herself into the condo. A single lamp in the living room was all that provided light as the sunlight through the windows faded. Shadows filled nooks and crannies of the spacious pad, along with the scent of ocean and sweetness. Rori slipped her bag off her shoulder and dropped it on the floor in the entryway, scanning the area for any sign that Cael might have returned.
As she came around the corner to the formal sitting area, she saw one set of French doors to the long balcony was open, the gauzy curtains billowing in the breeze. A shadowy figure leaned against the railing, distorted by the curtains and the wall. She crossed the space, a sense of relief overwhelming her. She wassafe.
“Cael, what did you want to…talk…”
The figure straightened up, turned.
Her voice faded, a new wave of dread crashing over her. God, how much more did she have to take today? What the hell did she do in her past life to deserve one blow after another?
Because the man on the balcony wasn’t Cael.
No.
The godforsaken gorgeous Fae who stepped through the curtains like the mystical creature he proclaimed to be was no other than Thaddeus. White-gold hair secured half up at the back of his head with a fancy gold clip while his waist-length strands curled and swayed around his narrow waist like a short cape of magnificence. Those Arctic blue eyes fastenedon her, unblinking, unreadable. A face cut from marble, not a single imperfection in the sharp, severe angles. A white button-down shirt open to the V of his chest, black pants fitted too perfectly to strong legs. The very sight of him dried her mouth, set her body on fire, and sent her heart into a frenzy despite her encounter with Rich less than a half hour ago.
Thismale was one she should fear more than Rich. So much more.
Thaddeus defined lethal.
Yet all he produced in her was a vile frustration and sinful heat she refused to acknowledge. Not while bearing battle scars from a mortal version of this potential monster.
“You.”
Thaddeus took one more step, then paused. A flat half-grin crept along the corner of his mouth as he folded his arms over his chest.
“Me.”
9
The scent that met his nostrils was not that of the woman before him, but of something foul. Dirty. An essence that clung to the air around her. He fought back the desire to scoff and snort, especially when his gaze moved over her swollen lower lip and the specks of dried blood that marred the corner of her mouth. A thick, dangerous darkness unfurled within his soul, something that reacted to the wound, the aura, the heaviness that surrounded the woman trying to hide something beneath the hideous hooded shirt and those baggy pants. Strands of her red waves had been pulled from the tie, leaving careless bumps and wayward locks around her reddened cheeks. The tip of her nose held a strange pink tinge and the way her red-rimmed eyes lit the green on fire made it hard for him to draw in a breath.
’Twas a torture he had no familiarity with. This ingrained disgust for mortals while his body roared for something entirely different.
Folding his arms over his chest kept his fisted hands hidden from her sight. The lift at the corner of his mouthmasked the deadly scowl threatening to rip across his lips. Goddess, what were these ridiculous responses?
He took another leisurely step toward Rori. “Seems we’re both awaiting the same person, for different reasons. What may your reason be, human?”
Her eyes narrowed as she folded her lower lip inward. She tried to hide the wound from his sight, no doubt. The potent scent of acrid blood caused his nostrils to flare and the darkness inside to thicken and slither closer to the surface. A flitter of magic sparked across his belly, hidden by his shirt but the pronounced prickle of electricity whispered a warning.
His fists tightened as magic tried to weave through his fingers.
“What business do you have with my brother?”
Rori scrunched her nose, huffed a sharp breath, and turned away from him. “None of your fucking business.”
“’Tis my business. He’s my brother, after all.”
Rori’s head snapped back to him, her eyes brimming with disgust. Despite the fire in her gaze, fear filtered through the flames. Fear she’d been in possession of upon her arrival. ’Twas what he sensed clinging to the air around her body. A singular aroma he’d learned over centuries. Fear smelled like naught else. ’Twas wild and bitter, metallic and foul.
“Don’t go boasting about your brotherly nature. You’re no brother if you want to open his throat and bleed him dry.”
Her words stabbed him through the heart. He didn’t understand why he reacted so volatilely, but he fought to keep his indifferent, callous mask in place while his heart sputtered beneath her truth.
