Crave the Darkness (37 page)
“Yeah, the information’s on the paper.”
I leaned over the bar and he pressed the envelope and paper into my hand, grazing my fingers as he pulled away. Though his skin was cooler than mine, Tyler’s touch left me warm. And wanting more. My skin all but burned where he’d touched me, a brand that reminded me I’d have been better off dealing with Marcus. Tyler must have felt it too, judging by the way his lids became hooded and his chest rose and fell in a quick rhythm. I took a tentative step back, irritated at my own stupidity for orchestrating this visit.
Shit
.
He ran his fingers through the thick tangles of his hair and dropped onto a stool at the bar. His jaw clenched, the muscle at his cheek flexing. “Look, Darian. I want you to be careful on this job. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Ty’s instincts were usually right on. But I never gave much thought to things like caution. “I can handle it,” I said. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I know you can handle it.” Ty gave me a level stare. “That’s not the poiӀs not thnt. Maybe I should take this one myself.”
“No way.” This job paid double my usual fee. I had no intention of giving up that kind of money. Or the kind of action a double fee usually indicated. “I’ve got this one. Period.”
Ty shifted in his seat, and I knew his pensive attitude had nothing to do with the mark. “You ever think of a change in venue? Maybe a new line of work?”
“Sure, because I’ve always secretly wanted to pursue my dream of becoming a kindergarten teacher. Please. I’m good at what I do, and you know it.”
Standing from the stool, Ty rounded the bar and leaned up against the sink beside me. I balled my hands into fists, more to keep them from shaking than anything. God, he smelled good. Comforting, like fresh-baked cinnamon bread or something equally delicious and loaded with rich spices. His unique scent swirled around in my head, and I wanted nothing more than to lean into him, feel the weight of his arms around me as I breathed him in. But then my common sense gave me a swift kick in the ass. There was a stack of reasons why I couldn’t be with Tyler. He was human while I . . . well, I sure as hell wasn’t. Plus, he deserved someone softer. A nice piece of womanly eye candy. Someone capable of giving and receiving love without considering it a bargaining chip. Someone who wouldn’t stab another person with something sharp if he pissed her off. That someone wasn’t me.
“How long are we going to keep doing this?” His tone, though dark, had a sensual edge to it. A yearning that mirrored my own.
Shit.
“Tyler—” My gaze dropped to the floor. I couldn’t look up because he’d see the emotion written all over my face. “We’re not going to talk about this.”
“Maybe I want to talk about it.” His voice became softer still. He reached out, his fingers caressing me, shoulder to wrist. A jolt of excitement shot through my core, and I cursed my weakness and my susceptibility to his touch. I wanted him, and not just for the night.
“We work together.” The excuse sounded as lame in my head as it did coming out of my mouth.
“Then you’re fired,” he murmured, brushing his fingers against my palm.
My cheeks flushed and it had nothing to do with the temperature in my apartment. These moments between us were becoming more frequent—and harder to resist. I put my palm against his chest, my entire hand tingling with excitement from the contact. He felt solid, rock hard, under my hand, and I wondered what his skin would feel like without his T-shirt between us. I pushed him gently away, severing our contact and allowing me enough space to take a decent breath. I couldn’t focus with him so close. And we needed to talk business.
“So,” I said, shaky, “I take it the mark’s a real bastard?”
Tyler took an extra step back, his smile turning almost sad. “You know me,” he said with a sigh, and the sound mirrored my own disappointment. “I don’t take money to kill just any asshole. Only the scum of the earth will do.”
That’s why I worked for Tyler. He shared my disgust for the morally bankrupt, and I could count on him to flush them out of their holes for me. Be it a drug dealer, pimp, or worse, Tyler hated abusers just as much as I did. And each and every one of them abused their victims in one horrible way or another.
I leaned back against the stove, but still, the distance between us could be closed by an arm’s length. Even the air seemed thinner, as though there wasn’t enough of it to share. Tyler sealed the gap, his eyes trained on my face, drinking in every detail. He reached out, his fingers feather light against my cheek, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Time to take this conversation out of the kitchen. I needed some space, and the current cramped quarters weren’t doing anything for my willpower. I tapped the envelope of money against my palm, paced away from Tyler, and rounded the far end of the polished concrete countertop. I flopped down on the overstuffed chair in the living room that bordered the kitchen. Unfolding the slip of paper, I read the mark’s info with more interest than the situation called for. “I’ll get ahold of you when it’s done,” I said.
Tyler stiffened, his shoulders square. “You can’t keep avoiding this—
us
—Darian.”
Who says?
As far as I was concerned, I could keep avoiding it until the end of time. “If it’s not broke, don’t fix it. Right, Ty? We work well together. And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Why can’t things stay just the way they are?”
“Change is the only constant, Darian.”
He always said my name with care, as if the word were fragile. The sound of it made my chest ache. “We just can’t . . .
be
together.”
His eyes burned into mine. “Why not?”
Why not, indeed?
“It’s not a good idea. Trust me, Ty. I’m not what you need.”
He threw his coat over his shoulders and headed for the elevator. “Why don’t you let me worry about what I need? Be careful tomorrow. I’d hate for you to trip on your boulder-sized pride before you get the job done.”
The elevator whined its way to the ground floor, leaving me alone.
Way to go,
I thought.
You wanted things to cool down. Looks like you got your wish
. He’d forget about his fascination soon enough. It wasn’t really me he wanted. More likely it was the idea of me. The exotic, preternatural creature. Tyler would find someone worthy of his adoration. The thought of his arms around another woman made me want to scream. I sat for a moment, absorbing the quiet and the hollow ache in my chest that only his absence caused. Fuck if I knew why, but the torture of having him near was almost better than the anguish of watching him leave.
Rather than continue to stew in my misery and obsess over emotions best left unrealized, I locked the envelopes—both the seventy-five percent and the remainder of my fee—in a safe tucked behind a false wall. Tyler wouldn’t dare cheat me. I trusted him with my life; the money was a no-brainer.
I unfolded the paper once again and reread the name and address scrawled on it.
Xander Peck, 1573 East Highland Drive
His name rolled off my tonguӀ off my e a couple of times. Not exactly a Tom or Josh or Steve. But I guess Darian wasn’t exactly a Becky, Suzie, or Jennifer either.
Poor bastard. I wondered who Xander Peck had pissed off to deserve a visit from me. Whatever he’d done, it must’ve been pretty bad. People paid through the nose for my services, and I wasn’t exactly listed in the yellow pages. You’d have to have connections, and not the normal kind, to hire a Shaede to mete out your punishments.
Also by Amanda Bonilla
Shaedes of Gray
Blood Before Sunrise
