Chapter 11
By the time Damian pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, she was sound asleep. He thought about waking her, then hesitated. He told himself that she needed to sleep—she was mortal, that he was doing her a favor—but he knew the truth. He was afraid if he woke her up, it would be the end. She would want to shower, of course. She’d get out of his car, take the cash, and leave. Why wouldn’t she, after everything he’d put her through last night? And there was nothing that he could or should do to make her stay. Her leaving was the right choice.
Unless it wasn’t.
He looked over at her, curled up into her seat with her seat belt still on. She hadn’t been scared of him as a dragon at all. He remembered the look on her face seeing him—awestruck, but as she raised her hand, also certain. Like she knew she belonged with him.
No. That was just the loneliness talking. He could never wish being with him on anyone. The coin Michael’d given him hung on a ribbon around his rearview mirror. It was bad enough that Austin and the rest of them had been dragged into working with him; being on his crew had cost Michael his life.
So he would never dare to bring someone so soft and fragile into the Realm of the Unearthly, but he watched her chest rise and fall and listened to the quiet sounds of her breathing—remembering the way she’d looked at him as a man when they’d been in the pond. He would have sworn there’d been a moment or two there where she’d felt his pull and had wanted him alike.
Which didn’t matter. One of them had to be the strong one. And just because she didn’t want to forget things didn’t mean she wanted a relationship with him. Who could—fully knowing what he was? So, any minute now, he would wake her up, shove an envelope of cash at her, and push her out of the car.
She stirred against the leather seat and made a small noise. She would be so much more comfortable in her own bed after a shower, no doubt. All the more reason he should wake her. Yes, be an adult about this already. He steeled himself, reaching over, but before he could touch her, need wracked him as it never had before, making him stop, and he slowly closed his hand. He almost didn’t trust himself. For all the times he’d touched her already, he wanted more. At the least, he didn’t want this to be the end—like it would be if he woke her.
And what was the rush? Austin had already texted him that Zach was critical but stable—his werewolf abilities serving him in good stead. The full moon would come tonight and heal him. So, couldn’t he just sit here and pretend she was choosing to be with him for a little bit longer?
Why did she have to be perfect? There were a million ways she could’ve acted differently today and turned him off, but somehow, she’d navigated every one. And that last vision of her atop Zach, saving his life, so impossibly brave despite its absolute utter foolishness—he’d never seen such ferocious selflessness before.
Whereas, everything about him and his desires was selfish—born from a place of dragonhood, where what he wanted, he got. Which was why he was watching her take the world’s most uncomfortable nap in his sports car, after the fucking worst night he’d had since Zach had gotten injured.
Goddamn it. Just touch her. Just wake her up.
As if his own desires made it manifest, she inhaled deeply, and her eyes blinked. She startled, looking at him, and then around at the car, as her hands reached for the door. “Oh my God…oh…wait…what…” she began, and he realized if only he’d been sly enough to somehow get her into a shower and into her bed without waking her—or doing anything lewd—she might’ve decided everything that’d happened to her was a dream, even without the fire.
“You,” she said slowly, her eyes finding his.
“Me,” he agreed. What did she remember? What was she thinking of him?
You soft, scaleless fool, his dragon chided from a distance. Who cares? Take what you want.
“You’re…a dragon.”
“Yes.” No point in denying it now.
“Just…like Auntie Kim…” she breathed, making no sense, before going to rub an eye with the back of one hand and realizing it was still gross from earlier. “Ewww.” Then she looked around again and squinted through the tinted windows at the sun. “What time is it?”
He glanced at his phone. “Eleven.”
“I’ve been asleep for three hours?”
Had it really been three hours? Damian realized, not for the first time, that no one else was better at torturing himself than he was. “Not long enough.”
“And…you’ve just been watching me?”
“Mostly day trading,” he lied, flashing her his phone.
She stretched like a cat and looked around at herself again. “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up.”
“I didn’t want to touch you…” which was even more of a lie before he quickly added, “…without your permission.”
“So, non-consensual brainwashing was okay, but a shoulder tap’s right out? Good to know.” She snorted at him before her lips curved into a smile. It was just as warm as he remembered from the night prior and before he could sensibly stop himself, he was smiling back.
“I don’t really have a rulebook for this,” he admitted.
“This?” she asked, her eyebrows arching.
What he wanted to say was, You, me, sitting in a car, me wanting more, do you want more with me? But what he said instead was, “Interacting with humans.”
She looked a little wounded at that, and he wished he hadn’t said anything at all. “Are we really all that different?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been human before.” Why wasn’t she running?
“But, you hang out with them, I met people—”
“Most of them are supernatural in some way.” Did she want to stay, too?
“Unearthly?” she guessed, remembering.
“Hmmm. Not entirely. More like offshoots of Unearthly creatures from generations ago. Been on Earth so long that they’re different now; I don’t think they could really function in the Realms anymore.”
She eyed him warily. “I thought you didn’t want me asking questions?”
“I haven’t told you a single thing that you could actually Google,” he said.
She frowned, and he realized it was only her curiosity that kept her here. Of course. Grow up, Damian. He sat up straight and gave her a predatory smile. Leave little girl, get out of my car; run away before I hurt you. She read his face and stiffened but didn’t reach for the door, and he spotted the envelope sitting between their car seats. “Here,” he said, picking it up and tossing it into her lap. “I tripled your fee. Hazard pay, after last night.” Now she would be sure to go.
She stared at the fat envelope without touching it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“This…just…it feels like a bribe.” She shoved at the envelope with a finger.
He blinked at her. “You did a job. You need the money.”
She looked over at him, eyes flashing—he’d clearly struck a nerve. “I guess I do. I guess people like me get bought by people like you.” She grabbed the envelope and reached for the door, and he ought to have just let her leave, but he couldn’t help but protest.