Her admission returned his earlier concerns to the forefront. Much as he dreaded the possibility of her confessing that she possessed other reasons for sleeping with him beyond pure lust, he needed to know the truth. “Sweetheart, this isn’t about me rescuing you, is it?”
She graced him with a frown. “How do you mean?”
“Us.” He gestured to their tangled limbs. “This.”
Her expression slowly morphed into a scowl. “Are you questioning if I slept with you because you pulled me from the ocean?”
Willa’s irate tone had him fumbling to defend himself. “Well, I didn’t just do that, for Christ’s sake. There was also the damn leviathan.”
“Yeah, I know. But honestly, that only earned you a blowjob.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious, Willa.”
“So am I. Now stop being a blockhead.”
He gaped at her before stacking his arms behind his head and grunting. “I can’t believe you insulted me. Especially after I just gave you a toe-curling orgasm.”
“Shocking, isn’t it?”
He chuckled despite himself. He’d never known a woman like Willa. She was feisty and temperamental. Cute and sexy as hell. She fascinated him, made him want to learn every single thing there was to know about her. What made her laugh. Made her cry. What her favorite food was—although from all appearances, it seemed to be everything. And he loved that about her. The lusty, uninhibited enjoyment she immersed herself in. It was erotic and intoxicating. It fed his determination to provide her with every reason to keep him on the menu of her sensual delights.
Hell, yeah. She’d gotten under his skin good. It was disorienting to be this into a woman who was a living, breathing mystery. He didn’t know what to expect. And that freaked him out. Big time. But damn if he could do anything about it. The notion of walking away from Willa anytime soon…
Not a fucking option.
“You know, it’s very disconcerting having a shark stare at me like you’re doing right now. Kind of makes me feel like I’m a potential snack.”
“There’s nothing potential about it, baby.” He smacked his lips and twisted onto his side. Pulling her toward him, he nuzzled her breast. “Rule number one—if you flash such tempting bait to a shark, he’s gonna make ya his favorite main course.”
A laughing groan fell from Willa. “I’m going to regret this insatiable appetite of yours, aren’t I?”
Giving a noncommittal hum, he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Just as he was getting into it, Willa made a coughing noise and scooted backward. “At the risk of destroying the mood, that lemonade is going straight through me.” Swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, she dashed into the adjoining bathroom and snicked the door shut.
“Foiled by a full bladder. Isn’t that always my damn luck?” Sitting up, he scratched his sternum. Curiosity taking over, he visually swept the room. He’d been too preoccupied with Willa’s luscious body earlier to pay much attention to his surroundings. But now that he had the opportunity to fill in a few of the puzzle pieces about her, no way would he pass it up.
The bedsprings gave a whining croak as he stood. He crossed to the adjacent window and cranked the blinds open a notch, enough to allow in extra sunlight without providing too much of a view in case Willa’s neighbor happened to be poking around in the backyard. He turned and took in the feminine touches that abounded throughout the space. It surprised him slightly. The décor painted a very different picture compared to the brief glimpse he’d gotten of the rest of the apartment before his lust had taken over and he’d hauled Willa into bed. Unlike the living room, which boasted utilitarian furnishings in varying shades of tan, her bedroom was an oasis of color and sparkle. He couldn’t help wondering which represented the true Willa—boring beige or vibrant frills.
His attention landed on the single framed photo resting on her dresser. Abandoning his post by the window, he stepped forward and cocked his head, inspecting the smiling pair. He recognized Willa, of course, but the older blonde woman standing beside her looked oddly familiar for some reason. Frowning, he picked up the bejeweled frame, his confusion heightening while he stared into the other woman’s sharp blue eyes.
Finally—like a thunderbolt—it hit him who he was looking at. “What the fuck?” His gaze veered from the picture he clutched to the closed bathroom door, his head spinning with the biggest question of all time.
How the hell did a woman who’d been dead for the past twenty-two years end up in a recent photograph looking very much alive?
Chapter Ten
Harrison eyed the trio of businessmen skulking into the entrance of The Wet Spot, a local strip joint. He’d never understand humankind’s obsession with paying to see jiggling body parts. It only reinforced his disdain for the moronic species.
He crossed the steaming pavement and shoved open the establishment’s front door. Patrons sat at the various tables footing the garishly lit stage where a female human with large knockers got intimate with a metal pole. He ignored all of them. Stupid mesmerized humans were more of a waste of breathing space than those damn pufferfish shifters he’d outsmarted the previous night. No, his only reason for being here was the leviathan currently pouring shots behind the bar.
He despised the necessity of involving Kragos in this mission. The ancient leviathan reminded him too much of his previous mentor—Seven. Although he didn’t adopt nearly as many tedious personas as that slave-driver Seven, Kragos did hail from the same old guard of soul collectors. There weren’t many of them left, not after the shame their species was forced to endure after being excommunicated from Hell all those hundreds of years ago for hoarding too many of the souls for their own private collections. But many of those dumb bastards still felt some stupid-ass glory in their trivial collection of human souls.
Kragos’s status as a soul collector made him a wild card—not entirely trustworthy in Harrison’s book, since he couldn’t be certain how Kragos would react once he learned of the ultimate plan to destroy the humans. Silly as it was, Kragos might get a little pissy about having his precious catalog of humans wiped off the face of the earth in one fell swoop. Hence Harrison’s decision to keep him in the dark.
The only thing he needed from the old fart was a piece of DNA in order to access the directory the elders held on all existing leviathans. Once armed with the names and locations of his fellow levis, Harrison could assemble enough assistance in springing his new partner from her prison. With that necessary step out of the way, he could focus on the next plan of attack—finding that fucking shark, and, ultimately, the girl.
Grim determination a molten fire in his gut, Harrison approached the bar. Kragos looked up and their gazes collided. The ancient leviathan might have been a master at his disguise, but even the most talented of their species couldn’t completely hide the natural reptilian slant of their pupils. Most humans were too dazzled by a leviathan’s glamour spell to notice this telling trait, but it was there for the few who knew enough to look for it.
As he’d expected, Kragos didn’t seem entirely pleased to see him. Their species tended to be extremely territorial, particularly the soul collectors. The leviathan lowered the bottle of whiskey and shot him a hard glare. “What do you want?”
It didn’t appear they’d be indulging in small talk. Fine by him. The sooner he put some distance between this place that stank of humans, the better. He glanced at the pair of drunkards slumped on nearby stools. Besides having several pints of alcohol swimming in their bloodstreams, they no doubt were deeply submerged within the comforting cloak of Kragos’s glamour. No need to worry about eavesdroppers here. “Merely to make amends. I know Seven poached on your territory. I hope there will be no ill will between us as a result.”