Kim Harrison - Hotter Than Hell

“Oh, for Christ’s sweet sake.” Selene wasn’t about to argue with a dead lounge lizard. He fell into step beside her, long legs easily keeping pace as she trotted up the sidewalk. She glanced down. Black loafers and no socks. All you’re missing is a clutch of gold chains and chest hair. She tried to keep her breathing quiet, pushing down a lunatic desire to giggle nervously. Danny, Danny, I’m on my way. Don’t hurt yourself .

“I don’t…know what…he’s thinking,” she gasped, speeding up. “I’m…perfectly…safe.”

Bruce managed a high, thin giggle. “Oh, no you’re not, chickadee. You should be glad His Highness took an interest in you.” He didn’t even sound winded.

I don’t need Nikolai’s protection. I did just fine on my own.

Okay, so she didn’t want Nikolai’s protection. She’d rather tap dance naked through a minefield singing “Petticoat Junction.” Just because Nikolai was the prime paranormal Power in the city, responsible for keeping the peace among all the other factions of paranormal citizenry, didn’t mean she would ever kowtow to him. His Highness Nikolai indeed. Just another suckhead come out from the shadows under the protection of the Paranormal Species Act.

Only this one had an interest in her.

Don’t think about things like that. Danny, please be okay. Don’t bite your tongue or cut yourself.

Her bag shifted, clinking when it banged against her shoulder. Steel and salt, the tools she needed to banish anything evil or unwanted; it didn’t pay as well as teaching but God knew there was a need for her talents. She’d been so tired when she got home she hadn’t unpacked, poltergeist infestations were like that. Not very difficult, but messy and draining. She pushed the strap higher. “I don’t need his…protection or…yours, suckhead.”

“That’s what you think.” Bruce grinned down at her, his words soft and even. “Want me to carry your bag?”

“Of…course…not.” Selene sped up. To hell with pacing myself. Danny needs me.

Selene’s medallion warmed against her skin, reacting to Bruce’s presence—at least, she hoped that was what it was reacting to. By the time they reached Danny’s building, the metal thrummed with Power. Gooseflesh raced down her body; she choked back a final gasp as she rounded the final corner.

Bruce smirked, letting out a soft little snort of laughter. Selene curled her hands into fists, resisting the urge to claw the smile from his face. Jumping the Nichtvren won’t get you anywhere, Selene. Just ignore him, and concentrate on what matters. Danny, my God, please be okay. Remember the visualizations I taught you.

The tall black-clad shape rose from the shadows lying over the concrete steps. Oh, no. Could this possibly get any worse?

Of course not. Of course Nikolai would show up now. He always seemed to know when there was trouble.

Bruce dropped back behind Selene. At least I won’t have to see that fucking smirk on his face. Danny, please be okay, don’t be banging your head on the wall again. I’m on my way, I’m coming.

Her heart slammed once against the cage of her ribs and her fingers curled into fists. Fire bloomed in her cheeks, spread down her neck, and merged with the growing heat of the medallion between her breasts. She fought for control, ribs flaring as she struggled against hyperventilation.

Hands in his coat pockets, chin tilted toward her, Nikolai’s dark eyes catalogued her tangled blond hair, camel coat, scuffed boots. Her fingers itched to straighten her clothes, brush back her hair, check for loose threads. As usual, he was so contained she longed to see him roughed up a little.

I suppose you learn a little self-control when you’re a Master powerful enough to rule Saint City. He’s the Prime, after all. We all live our little lives in his long dark shadow.

A few strands of crow-black hair fell over his eyes as Selene, impelled by the medallion’s growing heat, skidded to a stop inches from him. Her ponytail swung heavily, but he didn’t reach out to grab her arm and “protect” her from falling headlong on the steps. Her heart actually leapt to see him again.

Stop that. He’s not human, you know that, stop STARING at him!

Nikolai said nothing, the light stroking his high cheekbones. His mouth, usually curled into a half-smile, was compressed into a thin line. His dark, electric eyes flicked over Bruce, who cringed another three steps back.

Selene suppressed a burst of nasty satisfaction. Serves you right. She started up the stairs, pressing her left hand against the sudden stitch gripping her side. Her toe caught on the second step.

She fetched up short when Nikolai closed his hand around her left arm, steadied her before she could fall over, and let her go, all in the space of a moment. “Selene.” The chill rain-soaked air shivered under the word, his voice soft and irresistible. At least he didn’t have the scary gold-green sheen on his eyes tonight, Selene hated that. “Stirling.”

“I was on watch.” Bruce didn’t sound half so smug now. Of course, he was an accident, Turned as a joke or mistake; Nichtvren didn’t Turn ugly humans. It was an unwritten rule: only the pretty or the ruthless were given the gift of immortality, and Bruce was neither. Why Nikolai kept him around was anyone’s guess, and Selene didn’t want to ask. Bruce’s doglike attachment and gratefulness for any crumb Nikolai threw his way was telling enough.

Besides, if she asked she had a sneaking suspicion Bruce might answer, and she wouldn’t like the answer at all. Not to mention what she might have to pay for it.

Selene brushed past Nikolai. Her boots smacked against the cold, wet concrete of the steps. She reached the glassed-in front door and stopped short, digging in her coat pocket for her keys. So Nikolai’s having me watched. She filed the information away.

Her fingers rooted fruitlessly around in her pocket and found nothing but an empty gum wrapper. “Oh, no.” Her keys were on the table by the door at her apartment, she had not scooped them up on her way out. Just run right past them in her frantic dash. “Bloody fucking hell on a cheese-coated stick. ”

“You need to go in?” Nikolai’s breath brushed her cheek, the faint smell of aftershave and male closing around her. He was right behind her, so far into her personal space it wasn’t even funny.

A violent start nearly toppled her into the firmly-shut door. She hadn’t heard or sensed him behind her, he just appeared out of thin air. Dammit, does he have to do that all the time? The only place she could go to escape him was through the glass. She stared at the door, taking in deep harsh breaths and willing it to open. There was a quick, light patter of footsteps—Bruce, making off into the night. “I left my keys at home. Danny called. I think it’s a panic attack, and when he gets them he sometimes hurts himself. There’s an intercom—”

Nikolai reached around her, his body molded to hers, and touched the lock. The gold and carnelian signet ring gleamed wetly in the uncertain light as his pale fingers brushed the metal. He went absolutely still. The medallion’s metal cooled abruptly between Selene’s breasts, responding to the controlled flare of energy Nikolai was using. She could almost See what he was doing, despite the stealthy camouflage of a Master Nichtvren’s aura. The only thing scarier than their power was their creepy invisibility.

I really wish he’d quit crowding me. Her worry returned, sharp and acrid. Her lungs burned, the stitch knotting her left side again. Please, Danny. Please be okay. I don’t even care anymore if it’s one of your midnight games, I hope you’re all right.