Fishing out a black rectangular card, he held it between his fingers and motioned it in her direction. “Should anything come up, please feel free to give me a call... no matter what time it may be.”
She held his gaze for a moment before taking the card from his grasp. She studied it, biting her bottom lip. “I’ll do that... let me walk you out.”
Cassius waved his hand in front of him, wishing he could bite her lip. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she walked past him and led the way back down the stairs.
As they reached her front door, she opened it for him. He stood across from her as still as a statue, taking in her gracious facial features.
“Thanks for stopping by,” she said, in a low sultry voice.
Cassius nodded once. “I’ll be back again soon.”
She smiled wickedly, as if saying she surely hoped so. At least he hoped that’s what her smile was saying.
“Good day, Cassius,” she finally replied.
“Take care, Lara.”
Once he was a few feet from the house, he turned around, looking back at it. All was the same, but when his eyes lifted back to the window in the attic, he could’ve sworn he noticed something that wasn’t there before.
Something... or someone.
Lara, he figured. It had to be Lara. But how had she gotten back up there so quickly? And why? Why would she go back up to the attic after the horrible day she’d spent? Maybe she was going to put the boxes away now.
Or maybe, there was something else.
Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, Cassius went through his call log. He hit send once he found the one he was looking for. “Carter. It’s Cass. You’re right. Something is definitely going on at the Angelov residence.”
CHAPTER 5
Milo’s icy fingers clamped down on Lara’s mouth. His arm wrapped around her chest, and he yanked her away from the door, his body pulsating electric blue.
“You had one simple task,” he snarled, his hand tightened, digging into her cheeks, “to convince the police that James’ death was an accident.”
“It’s not my fault,” Lara protested around his fingers, struggling in his iron grip as he carted her up the staircase. The heels of her shoes squeaked in the hallway, sliding on the wooden floor. Whoever said ghosts couldn’t touch things in the physical world was wrong, dead wrong.
“You’re going to bring him back here, and you’re going to do whatever it takes to persuade him to drop this case.” He flung her at the bed. She tumbled across the mattress and slid off the side, hitting the floor with a groan.
“I can’t just throw myself at him.” She pushed herself up, glaring at him over the edge of the bed. “That would look suspicious.”
“I don’t think he’ll protest.” Milo hovered in the doorway, floating two inches above the floor.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not blind, Lara. I know when a man is looking at my woman.” His outline flared, his body turning transparent. “And he was looking at you like you were his next meal.”
“I am not your woman.” Lara crawled to her feet.
Milo’s translucent form solidified. He flew at her and knocked her backward, pinning her against the window. His eyes glowed black.
“You are mine until I release you; you took a vow.”
“Until death do us part.” She slid her arms up, and pushed against his chest, creating space between them. “I’d say we’ve fulfilled that requirement.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know?” Lara asked, distracting Milo from the anger burgeoning across his face.
“Know what?”
“That Mr. Broxsby is interested in more than just solving this case.” She hoped her question sounded innocent. Truthfully, her heart was pounding. There was something about Cassius, something that disarmed her and made her want to tell him the truth... the whole crazy truth. But that would only end two ways, a jail cell or a mental ward.
No emotional attachments.
She had not allowed herself to fall in love with James—or any of her fiancés for that matter, considering she knew their fate the moment they dropped to one knee—but she had hoped that Milo would fail in his pursuit for mortality, that James was strong enough to overcome Milo’s possession. Instead, he’d killed himself.
The possibility of finding love seemed impossible for someone like her. She supposed at some point, she’d been in love with Milo, but less than six weeks into their marriage, he showed his true self, and Lara’s fairytale wedding turned out to be the precursor to a nightmare from which she could not wake; Milo’s obsession had chained him to her.
“I know because I’m a guy,” Milo replied, and slammed his fists into the wall behind Lara’s head, trapping her between his arms. “And you, my dear, are going to use that weakness to your advantage.”
“I’m not a prostitute.” Lara smacked his arms away.
“Are you going to deny your attraction to him?” Milo’s mouth brushed over her ear, sending a shiver sliding down her back. She pressed herself into the wall, cringing away from him.
“I’m not screwing a cop,” her voice wavered.
“He’s a consultant.”
“He’s working with the police.” She turned away, but Milo caught her arm, twisting her back toward him. Suspicion curled his lip.
“What did you say to them?”
“Nothing.”
Milo’s grip tightened, pinching her skin. “You’re lying to me.”
“I told them James fell out the window.” She yanked her arm free. “I did exactly as you instructed.”
“You were supposed to convince them of your innocence, not have one follow you home.”
“I didn’t know he was behind me.” Her gaze slid to the window and the giant sunflowers swaying in the dying light. How long had Cassius been behind her? Had he seen her bury Milo’s bone beneath a mound of dirt?
“Why didn’t you check to see if you had been followed?”
“Killing people isn’t something I spend a lot of time doing,” she growled and whipped around.
Milo arched an eyebrow. “I know three men who’d disagree with that statement.”
“I didn’t kill them,” she enunciated each word.
“But you led them to their deaths, did you not my little temptress?” His hands closed around her upper arms, the chill from his icy fingers seeped through her sleeves. “You are as guilty as I, no matter what pretty little picture you paint in your head.”
“I don’t care what you do; I won’t bring you another person.” She jutted out her chin. Let him threaten to reveal his corpse to the police, he didn’t want to spend the remainder of her lifetime locked in a tiny box any more than she did. What happened to a ghost once the person they were haunting died?
“Oh, you won’t?” A horrific grin split his face. He lifted his hand and stroked a finger down her cheek. The tip skated along her jaw and stopped beneath her chin, digging into her skin. He lifted her head and leaned forward, his lips a breath from hers. His voice dropped to a low rumble. “I can make you do it. I will take over your body, force your beautiful mouth to beg that police officer—”