Page 183

“What does that mean?” Loren asked.

“They’re types of arcane magic,” Darien said. He pulled his hood off and ran a hand through his hair, pushing the loose strands back flat. “Very old, powerful magic apparently lost a long time ago.” He studied her. “Anything else?”

She nibbled on her lip.

“Don’t hold back,” he said gently, that intense gaze of his skating her features. “I need to know everything.”

She inhaled, focusing on what her body was telling her, searching for anything that felt off. She shook her head. “That’s it right now.”

He put the car into drive and pulled out into traffic at lightning-speed, tires screeching. “Then let’s get you back to Roman’s. I have an idea.”

58

Motel 58

STATE OF WITHEREDGE

Shay woke up in Roman’s arms, in the exact same spot as last night. It made her wonder if the Wolf of the Hollow had moved at all while he’d slept.

A smile pulled at her mouth. But soon that smile was fading as she remembered that this was day number four, and she’d lost Roman’s necklace.

This was a mistake. A road she should never have stepped onto. She had let Roman touch her, had initiated a kiss, and now she had spent the night in his arms.

She had never felt like such a fool. But even though this road led to certain destruction, and her brakes had failed, she had no desire to jump out of the vehicle.

She wanted to stay right here. Wrapped up in the strong arms of the Darkslayer she’d stolen from. The man who’d threatened her in that alley.

The man who’d surprised her in more ways than one.

He woke up a few minutes later, and when he stretched and flexed his body against hers, she felt his erection dig into her ass—and sensed that she was about to crash a whole lot sooner than she’d planned.

She rolled over to face him. His gold-flecked eyes were fixed on her, and she didn’t miss the burning desire in that stare.

Men and their early-morning arousal. She supposed the timing was good, though, considering she was about to ask him something potentially dangerous.

“I need a favor,” she said, trying not to breathe on him, well aware that she needed a toothbrush stat.

“Take your panties off.”

Whoa. Her face got hot. She wet her lips, and Roman tracked the movement. “Not that,” she said, though she questioned her own sanity for denying him. But he’d already done her a favor, and she still hadn’t repaid him. Never mind that she was asking for a new, entirely different favor not of the sexual kind. “I need a sixth day,” she told him.

The corner of his mouth pulled down, deepening his scar. “I’m awake for five minutes, and you ask me to be blackmailed for a sixth day?”

“I’ll do something for you in return.”

That red-hot stare dragged down her body, lingering the longest on the area where her thighs touched, and the hard peaks of her nipples that were showing through her pajama shirt. Technically it wasn’t a pajama shirt. It wasn’t even her shirt. It was Roman’s.

Another bad idea. Wearing a man’s clothes always felt like some massive commitment, like surrendering the one and only key to your heart to the guy whose clothes you were drowning in.

She was sure it wasn’t that serious, but for some reason, with Roman, it felt that way.

Roman considered her offer. “No.”

Shay bristled, unable to stomach the idea of being rejected by him—and she had to admit she was disappointed. After he’d gotten her off, it had only made her desire to take care of him in return intensify. “Why not?”

“If a woman is going to do something sexual for me, I want it to be because she wants to. Not because she has something to gain.”

Okay, so maybe she had to be clearer with him.