The Dark-Hunters (572 page)

“Yes, they should.”

Tory picked up the pizza remains as she remembered Ash telling her that he had no family either. “So who do you call whenever you’re down?”

He shrugged off his backpack. “I don’t.”

She paused. “You don’t ever get down or you don’t call anyone?”

He looked around the room. “So am I sleeping on the couch?”

She didn’t miss the fact that he was changing the subject away from the personal topic. “No, I have a spare bedroom upstairs. You can even leave your backpack there and have no fear that I’ll touch it.”

He nodded slowly.

The silence was a bit awkward as she tossed the pizza boxes in a garbage can. “We finally got everything the burglars screwed up put back in place. OCD reigns supreme once again.”

“Good. Did you figure out what was missing?”

She ground her teeth at the innocent question. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Obviously they were looking for something that wasn’t here—like you and the police thought. Which makes me wonder when they’ll come back.”

“You want to go to a hotel to sleep then? I’d offer you my place, but I only have a one-bedroom efficiency. At four hundred square feet, there’s not a lot of room for two people.”

Wow, that was a small place to call home and it told her a lot about his solitary nature. “Do a lot of entertaining, do you?”

He smiled. “I told you, I like to be alone. But I do have some friends we could crash with if that would make you feel more comfortable. Their places are huge and you’d have plenty of room to get away from me. I’m sure some of them even have toolboxes should you need them.”

She patted his arm again as she laughed at his gentle jibe. “If it makes you feel any better, I missed you on purpose with the hammer. I’m a championship hatchet and ax thrower. Believe me, if I’d really wanted to hurt you, I would have.”

He snorted. “Not really comforting from my perspective. You don’t date much, do you?”

Tory laughed again as she thought about that. “I try, but it never goes well for me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s like I’m cursed or something. Any time I get really close to a guy, he either discovers he’s gay or he has a freak accident and decides to break up with me.”

“Freak accidents that include hammers?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, but one guy did break his leg while trying to climb into bed with me. Kind of put a major kibosh on my love life. Not to mention a serious blow to the ego. Oh, well … you haven’t eaten. Would you like some food?”

He shook his head. “No thanks. I grabbed a sandwich at my place.”

She looked at him suspiciously as she tossed away the last of the beer bottles. “You know we’re Greek. We’re supposed to eat and eat a lot.”

“That’s a bad stereotype.”

“Not in my family, it isn’t. In fact, it’s more like an Olympic sport. My aunt Del is a twig of a woman who has been thrown out of all-you-can-eat buffets because she plows through food like a linebacker in training camp. In my family, we women cook and you men eat. That’s just the natural order.”

Ash crossed his arms over his chest as he noticed the curve of her ass as she bent over to pick up a small napkin that had fallen on the floor. Damn, that position went through him like fire as an image of her doing that naked tortured him. He could make some serious use out of her like that …

His breathing suddenly ragged, it was all he could do not to reach out and cup her in a place that was guaranteed to get him slapped hard. Then again, it might be worth it.

“Well, I truly don’t eat much so don’t worry about feeding me.”

She straightened to scowl at him. “Are you like some sort of weird vampire? You never take off your sunglasses and you only subsist on beer … then again, that also sounds like a frat boy and I have seen you out in daylight … So ends my vampire fantasy.”

If only his fantasy of her naked would end as easily. “And on that note,” which was a little close to home for his tastes, “I’m going to take my stuff upstairs. Which way do I go?”

“Second door.”

Ash headed for the stairs and as he ascended them, the family photos on the wall struck him again. Tory was so completely normal. He’d spent so little time around people like her that he couldn’t help but smile.

But more than that, he wondered what it would be like to have grown up in such a large family environment, loved. Everyone looked so happy in all the photos. Tory was standing with cousins in Greece as they hugged each other. There were more photos of them in Theo’s deli in New York.

His favorite was one of Tory around the age of fourteen on a boat with Geary. The two of them were wearing brown wide-brimmed hats with white sunblock on their noses while they were locked in an embrace and laughing. Before he could stop himself, he reached out to touch her face. And against his will, he tried to imagine someone holding on to him like that, someone who was that happy to be with him.

What did that feel like?

You are tired.

The only person who loved him like that who could ever touch him was Simi. She thought the world of him and it was why he was so protective of her.

He touched the tattoo of her on his chest, grateful she was with him. He needed to let her loose soon, but honestly he hated whenever they were apart. There was such comfort from having her with him …

It was selfish, but he couldn’t help himself.

Gripping the strap of his backpack, he continued up the stairs, to his room. Like the rest of the house, it was small and cozy. The curtains and comforter were beige with pink flowers.

Someone had come in and turned the sheets down for him. He didn’t know why, but it made him feel welcome.

He set his backpack down and reached for an acoustic guitar that was set in a rocking chair. He felt a presence behind him. Turning, he saw Tory in the doorway, watching him.

“Do you play?” he asked.

“I torture it from time to time. What about you?”

“I do sometimes.”

“You any good?”

“I do all right.”

She entered the room with a small stack of towels and washcloths that she set on the dresser. “The bathroom’s across the hall. You need anything else?”

You to touch me like I matter
 … He shook his head at the forbidden thought. “I’m a man of few needs.”

She sighed. “I’ve noticed that about you.”

Before Ash could stop himself, he took a step closer to her. Close enough that he could smell the precious scent of Tory mixed with peaches from her shampoo. He savored it. Just as he savored the sight of those inquisitive brown eyes that questioned everything about him.

Gods, how he wanted a piece of this woman …

Tory couldn’t breathe as Ash stood so near her, she could feel his body heat. He was so incredibly sexy. So beautiful.

He’s going to kiss you
 …

She could already taste those masculine lips. Feel his arms around her.

But that wasn’t reality. The moment he would have touched her skin, she leapt away. “All righty then. I’ll just leave you alone.”

Ash wanted to whimper as she shot out of the room so fast she left a vapor trail. How could she not want him? All his life he’d been fighting people off. Fending away unwanted gropes and touches. Now he finally found someone he wanted to touch him and she treated him like a leper.

What the hell was this?

Aggravated, he raked his hand through his hair and cursed under his breath. It was going to be a long night with her sleeping so close to him and yet so far away.

*   *   *

Too early the next morning, Tory was awake and still bleary-eyed as she staggered downstairs to her kitchen. The moment she entered the room, she froze in her tracks.

Ash was there. Dressed only in jeans, he stood with his back to her.

Holy saints! The expanse of flawless tawny skin was more than a mere mortal woman could see and not salivate over. Wide muscled shoulders tapered down to narrow hips and a perfectly formed butt. His hair still mussed from sleep, he popped the top off a beer.

Tory made a sound of disgust over his actions. “You have got to be kidding me.”

He turned and what little sanity she had fled. Yes, he still had those annoying sunglasses on, but the top button of his jeans hadn’t been fastened. They rode low on his hips, and the dark trail of hair that ran south of his navel was slightly thicker at the opening.

He was commando …

And that long, hard body was made for sin. Really, no man should look like that and definitely not one who was standing in her kitchen … In her bed was another story. Man, how she wanted to take a bite out of him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked innocently.

It took her three heartbeats before she could remember her objection to his near naked state. “You’re drinking a beer first thing in the morning. What kind of alcoholic are you?”

He flashed a taunting grin at her before he took a deep swig. “I’m not an alcoholic.”

Yeah, right. “That’s what they all say. At least put something in your stomach before you drink that.”

His features hardened. “I don’t need a mother, Tory.”

She didn’t believe that for one minute. Angry at what he was doing, she tried to take the bottle from him, but he refused to let her.

She glared at him. “You need someone to take care of you. Jeez! How can you do this to yourself?”

“It’s just a beer.”

“And hell is just a sauna.” She went to the fridge and grabbed eggs and some cheese. “Sit down and I’ll make you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“And I’m about to be wielding a frying pan and a knife so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop arguing with me and sit down.”

“I don’t eat breakfast,” he mumbled under his breath as he moved out of her way.

“I really don’t care,” she mocked in a sing-song voice that was as close to his thick accent as she could manage.

He moved to the other side of her breakfast counter. “You are so bossy.”

“Yes, I am. Now sit.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Put a shirt on like a civilized human. Do you know how unsanitary it is to be in a kitchen with no shirt?”

Ash laughed even though he wanted to strangle her. She had to be the only person he’d ever met who wanted him to wear
more
clothing. He started to get up, but she made a squeal of disapproval.

“What now?” he asked, truly baffled by her mood swings.

She pointed threateningly at him with her knife. “Don’t you dare move until
after
I see you eat something.”

He let out a frustrated breath. “You told me to go put on a shirt.”

“Since when do you listen to a single thing I say? Never. I know what you’re planning to do. You’ll go upstairs and not come back. So sit.”

He held his hands up in surrender while he watched her crack open two eggs and put them in a bowl so that she could beat them with a fervor that would have scared him if he wasn’t a god with protective powers. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”

She put a handful of cheese on top of them. “No, and I haven’t had my caffeine IV either, which means it would be wise of you to humor me.”

Ash hid his smile. Why did she amuse him so? He didn’t understand it and unless he wanted to tell her the truth about what he really fed on, he had no choice except to sit here while she made him an omelette, bacon and toast.

She plopped the plate down in front of him. “Fie!”—eat in Greek.

He stared at the delicious smelling food as buried emotions surged.
You want to eat, whore? Please me
 …

In the back of his mind, he saw himself in Estes’s office, on his knees on the floor, naked and chained to the desk while his uncle read late into the evening. Starving because he’d been allowed nothing to eat all day while he’d worked until he was bleeding and sore from it to make his uncle rich, Ash had stared at the bowl of dried sugared figs Estes had left in front of him. His stomach cramped from hunger, his mouth had watered for a single taste. For over an hour he’d stared at the food, biting his lips in desperate agony. Convinced Estes was so engrossed in his reading that he wouldn’t see him, Ash had reached for one.

He could still feel the sting of that vicious slap. See the anger in Estes’s eyes as he snatched at his hair and held Ash at his feet.
“Did I give you permission to eat, whore? You don’t ever take from me without earning…”

Even Artemis withheld her blood from him in an effort to control him. If he didn’t please her, he starved. More than that were the memories of being force-fed by his father’s guards.
Shovel it down his throat. Hold his mouth and nose shut until he swallows.
And when he’d choked on what they were brutally pouring into his mouth, they’d punched and slapped him, too.

He
hated
to eat.

Tory reached for the cheese and froze as she caught the strange look on Ash’s face. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was afraid of the food in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

“I really don’t eat breakfast.”

This time she heard the underlying note in his voice that reminded her of a small, fearful child. Before she could stop herself, she walked over to him and stood by his side. He continued to look at the plate.

Gently, she took his whiskered chin in her hand and turned his head so that he was looking at her. “I won’t force you to eat against your will, Ash. But I don’t want to see you starve. Please, eat something.”

Ash stared at the vein on her neck that throbbed with the vitality of her life. He could hear her heart beating … that was the food he craved.

His incisors elongated at the surge of hunger that went through him. His senses sharpened as he felt his eyes turning red.

Eat
 …

But he couldn’t bring himself to feed from her the way Artemis had done to him when he’d been human. Even though he could make it pleasurable for her, he couldn’t do it. It was such a feeling of being violated to have someone drain the blood out of your body. Have them rip through your flesh with their teeth while you were powerless to stop them …