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“In a dream,” I admitted, huffing a laugh. Certain he wouldn’t believe me, that he’d think I’d been attacked while I slept and was too oblivious to realize it.

“Tell me,” he said instead, reaching around me to grab a clean washcloth off the counter. He ran it under warm water, wringing it mostly dry before he stood beside me and gently wiped the blood away from the wound.

I explained what I remembered, the vision of my aunt. I refused to mention the name she’d called me first, knowing that any connection to Charlotte would only call attention to myself. I lied, telling him I’d never seen the woman before in my life. I’d left off the details of the bones strapped to her hip, but I told him the truth of the creature who’d been stalking her.

Of the fact that he remained entirely unseen.

“You’ve seen it before,” I said, turning my head to look at him.

He nodded solemnly, turning me so that I could watch as his fingers traced the marks. They’d already healed into old wounds somehow, the skin scarred instead of raw. The pain still pulsed through me as if the wounds were fresh, sensitive to the touch despite how gentle he tried to be.

“It’s called the devil’s eye,” he explained, his voice solemn as he said the words. “It enables Him to watch you more closely.”

I swallowed, looking at him over my shoulder once more as I tore my gaze away from the rough slash marks. “Well, get rid of it!”

He chuckled, but the sound held no humor whatsoever. “A Vessel cannot undo His actions,” he explained, grasping my chin and turning me to face him. “But perhaps you can explain exactly what He would want with you, Witchling.”

20

WILLOW

Iswallowed, my body tensing as he leaned down. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the side of his face as he leaned forward, touching his lips to the skin beneath the mark. Those steely eyes flashed to mine, a sudden predatory movement as he held my gaze in the mirror. His tongue slid out of his mouth slowly, the warmth of it pressing against my flesh.

I watched in horror as he dragged it up and over the mark, a slow glide of wet warmth that took the last of the blood from my skin. A shudder rolled through me when the hint of a fang sparkled in the dim lighting.

“How in the Hell should I know?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “It isn’t like I have Him on speed dial.”

“Has anyone ever told you that mouth is going to get you into trouble one of these days?” Gray asked, touching a hand to the back of my shoulder. Pain rippled through the mark, as if it protested the touch of anyone who hadn’t put it there.

“It’s possible,” I whispered.

That hand slid forward, curving over the top of my shoulder and wrapping around to the front of my throat. He squeezed lightly, watching goosebumps rise on my skin in response with an arrogant smirk. He leaned in, placing his mouth just beside my ear as he trailed his hand farther and snagged my bottom lip with his thumb.

“The next time you lie to me, I’m likely to make it so that you cannot speak at all.”

“Good luck with that,” I said, huffing a laugh against his thumb as I pulled back. It pressed my ass into his thighs, the bare skin of my back touching his chest and sending a jolt of pain through me. “Unless you intend to gag me, you’re unlikely to be able to shut me up.”

“You would definitely be gagging, Witchling,” he growled, and the bolt that shot through me was one of shock.

Oh.

Swallowing, I forced that moment to pass and slid back into the carefully controlled persona. The seducer who would be anything, do anything, if it meant finding those bones.

“Promises, promises,” I murmured, nipping at his thumb.

His responding growl rumbled in my ear, tightening things low in my stomach that I didn’t even begin to understand. It shouldn’t have been attractive to have him growl at the thought of gagging me on his cock. He pulled me tighter into his chest, pressing his hard length into the small of my back.

I swallowed, arching my back at the touch.

“If I bent you over the sink right now and fucked you, you’d welcome every minute of it, wouldn’t you?” he asked, but he made no move to do just that.

I couldn’t decide if the swoop in my belly was appreciation or disappointment when he spun me to face him, backing me toward the bare wall beside the bathtub. I didn’t answer his question, couldn’t find the words to respond.

I knew what I should say, knew what my body wanted me to say as I tipped my head back and stared up at him through my lashes. But I couldn’t force myself to acknowledge it, couldn’t give him that satisfaction, even though my duty demanded it of me.

“A girl has needs,” I said, shrugging as if the person filling them was inconsequential.

His lip peeled back to reveal his fangs as he glared down at me like the problem I was.