Page 44
Story: The Death Dealer
She smirked. Fucking smirked like she had the upper hand! And perhaps she did. It annoyed him when he couldn’t read her intent.
“How did you block me?” he demanded.
“Maybe our interlude changed the Fates’ design, and we aren’t meant to be mates, after all.” She gave a dismissive sniff. With a careless shrug, she pivoted andminced her waytoward the door. Halfway there, she tripped overair, barely catching herself from face-planting on the antique Persian carpet.
He laughed.
That would teach her to pretend to be someone she wasn’t!
“You’re a punkass, Trevor Blane!” Her exposed skin flushed a ripe berry shade.
A tchotchke sailed by his head and landed on the bed.
He laughed harder.
When he had his humor under control, he tsked and said, “When we leave here, I’ll take you to a ballpark, and you can practice your aim. Maybe next time, you can hit the side of a barn.”
Her narrowed eyes promised retribution.
It came faster than expected.
Recently,as Soleil and Spring toiled away in the Thorne greenhouse, her friend told her about when she’d filled Knox Carlyle’s mouth with dirt during one of their fights. Without giving it further thought or Trevor any warning, Soleil did the same to him.
His rage gave the phrase “spitting mad” a whole new meaning. Asshewatched him gag, sputter, and spit,sheexchangedherheels for flats and offered him a middle-finger wave asshesailed out the door. It felt damned good to get the upper hand for a change.To win in their battle of wits.
“You haven’t won anything, Dalli.”
“Get out of my head!”
“Looks like the Fates prefer us together, after all, so maybe I’ll hang outinhere a bit.”
His irritating voice sounded way too smug for her taste. Picturing Gene naked, she envisioned a long, thick penis.
“For the love of—! That’s just plain disgusting, Soleil Stephens. I threw up in my mouth!”
She giggled but sobered quickly. Sure, she’d scored one againsthim, but beatinghimin one battle didn’t win the entire war. Halting mid-stride, she pressed the flat of her hand to her chest. Were they at war? Why did it have to be that way at all? She’d only ever wanted peace in her life.
The truth was, she liked Trevor Blane.More than she should.Yet he repeatedly shoved her away. It boiled down to one thing: he didn’t want to care about her, so he wouldn’t. At least she had one rocking sexual encounter to remember him by. From their first kiss, she’d known their joining would be epic, and it was. Hopefully, as time passed, she wouldn’t compare all other men to him. Maybe her memory would fade, and she’d find her soulmate. A man to love her as she was. One who was perfect for her and so sweet it gave a person cavities to see them together.
Closing her eyes, she sighed. Wishful thinking was all well and good, but it was pointless at present. A consultation with Damian was in order, and finding out why the Authority would assign a Death Dealer to watch her was paramount. What had she done to deserve to die?Was her aim to repopulate dying or extinct plants all that terrible?Was shereallyso horrible that she needed tobe extinguished?
Large, warm hands encircled her shoulders, and she jumped.
“Trevor!” she gasped. “What the fuck?”
“I felt your freak-out building.” He turned her to face him. “It’s going to be okay, Dalli. No one is going to hurt you.”
“You can’t assure my safety. Hell, you’re the onetheysent to do me in.”
“About that, I’m not sure they did.” With a dark frown, his eyes trailed across her face, up to her ponytail, and back down to grimace at her cleavage. “Can you change back into you, please?”
“No.” She knocked his hands from her shoulders. “Explain your reasoning.”
“You’re pretending to be someone you aren’t?—”
“Notthat. The reason why you aren’t sure the Authority sent you to kill me.”
He scowled.
Table of Contents
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