Edge of Twilight

“It is a dilemma.”

She smiled at him. “So what’s with the little altar?” As she said it, she nodded toward the pew with the candles and other items. “You into Voodoo or something?”

“It’s only a few mementos.”

Sliding off her pew, she moved closer to take a better look. “You mind?”

He shrugged, so she examined the items more closely, even picking up one or two. An earring, a pair of barrettes. “So you wore an earring and barrettes when you were alive?”

“Not exactly.”

She handled the switchblade, examining the initials engraved in the bone handle. B. R. “These aren’t yours, are they?”

“Are now.”

He was shifting his weight, his eyes moving rapidly from his keepsakes to her hands on them. It made him uncomfortable, her handling these things. She put the blade down carefully. “If you don’t want to tell me, just say so.”

Again, he only shrugged, then turned away. “So what’s the deal? Back at the mansion, I mean?”

It was hardly a mansion. She averted her eyes. “I told you about Willem. He’s mortal, and he’s sick.”

“Dying,” he said.

She sighed. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“There’s the rub, though, isn’t it?” She looked at him sharply. “You don’t have anything to say about it. Do you?”

She shrugged. “You might be surprised.”

He licked his lips. “That Egyptian Princess—she bled you, didn’t she?”

Amber frowned. “With my full consent.”

“I thought as much. Otherwise I’d have torn into her.”

That brought a smile to her face. He saw it and tipped his head. “What, you think I’d have trouble with her?”

“I don’t think, I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

“You look plenty tough. Don’t get all offended.”

He sighed. “Doesn’t matter. If I’d thought she was harming you—”

“You’d have fought to defend me, huh?”

“Do you doubt it?” He was serious now, his eyes darkening, taking on a look of intense emotion. She got the feeling he was lying but decided to believe. He moved closer, cupped her cheek in one hand and bent toward her. He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to, but she knew damn well she was going to lose her focus the minute his mouth touched hers. So she spoke just before it did, while his eyes were closed and his breath was fanning her face.

“What do you really want from me, Edge?”

It caught him off guard. His eyes popped open, and they held the expression of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But he caught himself fast, banished the guilty look and replaced it with a lecherous one. “I thought we’d start with the kissing. From there, I have all sorts of ideas.”

Her stomach knotted a little at the suggestion of sex, even though he hadn’t actually said it. He didn’t have to say it. He practically oozed it. “Beyond that, I mean,” she managed, her words emerging hoarsely from a throat that had gone tight. “Why did you fling yourself in front of my car last night? Why are you pretending to be interested in me now?”

He blinked at her as if in confusion. “Do you cast a reflection, Alby?”

Frowning, she nodded. “Yes. Why?”

“Just wondering if you’ve ever seen yourself in a mirror.”

She rolled her eyes, told herself not to let his smooth, slow words make her lose track of her mission here, and gently extricated herself from his full body embrace.

“If you have, why would you accuse me of pretending to want you?”

“You’ve only known me for twenty-four hours, Edge, and half of those you were resting.”

“I wanted you in the first ten seconds,” he said. Then he shrugged. “Being female and half mortal, I suppose you’re one of those who believes it’s necessary to get to know a person before indulging in an exchange of mutual ecstasy.”

“Well, yeah. Especially with someone who’s being less than honest about his motives.”

“I’m being perfectly honest, Alby. I’m not declaring eternal love, and I’ll tell you up-front that I never will. Hell, I’m not even sure I like you much at this point. This—” he ran a finger along her cheek until she shivered “—is purely physical.” He ran his hand slowly down her neck, to her shoulder, from her shoulder down her back, following the curve of her spine. His fingertips left a tingling wave of sensation in their wake. His hand kept sliding lower, until she stepped away from his touch. “I don’t believe in self-denial,” he said softly.

“Then I’ll do the denying.”

“Hell.” He heaved a sigh and flung himself onto one of the pews, sitting heavily. “So why are you here, Alby? If you didn’t come to let me ravish you, what are you doing here?”

She bit her lip. “I already told you, I want to know why you’re interested in me. What were you doing on that road?”

“Walking to Salem.”

“Why?”

“Because my car died. I told you that.”

“And why did you throw yourself in front of my car and pretend I hit you?”

He pursed his lips, lowered his gaze to the floor, sighed. “All right. All right, you’re too smart for me. I did do that. I thought it was my best shot at getting a ride.” He licked his lips and searched her eyes. “I had no idea who you were, though. Not until after the fact. And I’ve got no reason to try to fool you now. I already got the ride I was after.”

“Not the only ride you’re after,” she muttered.

“Well, that goes without saying.” His smile was one of pure mischief, and it turned her on like nothing she’d ever seen. “The only question now is, how am I going to get you to change your mind?”

She averted her face, felt the blood heating her cheeks.

“How long are you staying in Salem Harbor, Alby?”

She shrugged. “It really depends. There’s a … a man who might be able to help me save Willem. If I can find out where he is, I’ll leave immediately.”