I let out a long, shaky breath. My mind kept flicking back to the demon I’d hit with fire. Hair blazing, clothes flaming…horrible.
I shuddered, suddenly struck by the feeling that I didn’t want to be alone.
Half of me wanted to call Orion in here while I bathed to keep me company. But like the primal keening of the demons’ war cries in the wilderness, I sensed instinctively that it wouldn’t end well.
I rose abruptly from the bath. Water dripped off my bare skin in the cool night air, and I started to towel off.
Sex with Orion absolutely could not happen. For one thing, he’d threatened to kill Shai, and I’d just seen exactly how efficient he could be with killing. In under a second, she could be dead. On top of that, he was a suspect. I was sure that the police had rules about not sleeping with anyone under a criminal investigation.
His attraction to me was probably fake, anyway.
I mean…it didn’t feel fake. That encounter in the Tower of Baal, with my legs wrapped around him—it really felt like he hadn’t been faking that desire. The heated look in his eyes, the exquisitely sensual stroke of his magic over me, the feel of his hardness between my thighs…
I started to towel-dry my hair, flipping it over my head. Anyway, he was bad news.
Once dry, I slipped into the clothes I’d laid out for myself—tiny, silky underwear in a deep blue, and a matching lace demicup bra. I stepped into the underwear, doing my best not to think about Orion, and then pulled on a soft black dress. It was kind of a cute 1960s look—short as hell, but with long sleeves and a turtleneck, and smoking hot when paired with thigh-high boots, succubus style.
When I came downstairs again, I found Orion sitting on his cream sofa with a glass of whiskey. He’d changed into a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, exposing his creepy snake tattoo. He wore deep forest pants that looked like raw silk and probably cost ten thousand dollars.
“The duchess returns,” he said as I sat beside him. “You know, love, I didn’t think a mortal could do what you did. It seems you’re capable of great surprises.” His voice was a velvety caress. “Your not-so-adoring crowd will be expecting you soon. Mortana doesn’t tire, I’m afraid.”
“How’s your chest?”
“Same as it ever was.” A sly smile. “Fine on the outside, dead on the inside. Fortunately, only metaphorically.”
I crossed my legs, and his gaze flicked to my bare thighs for just a moment before he rose. “Stand up. Let me heal your bruises.”
I pulled down the high neck of my dress. He frowned, then touched me lightly, just beneath my chin. I closed my eyes as the sensual feel of his magic washed over me. Simmering waves snaked around my throat, making my muscles relax.
He pulled his hand away. “There. good as new.”
Sighing, I sat again. “Don’t you want to know everything that happened?”
He took a seat across from me. “I saw the ragged remnants of your enemies. Did I mention that there’s something kind of terrifying about you?”
“You killed fifty demons, didn’t you? That means you ripped out fifty demon hearts in the forest. I think you’re more terrifying.”
He gave an easy shrug. “But I’m obviously dangerous. People can tell that as soon as they meet me. You disguise it. You’re a lion dressed as a lamb.” He frowned. “And then in a second lion disguise, since you’re also supposed to be Mortana.”
“I have layers.” I raised my eyebrows. “And maybe a dark side.”
“About that.” He leaned forward, his blue eyes piercing me. “You told your secrets, Rowan, in that prison cell. But you didn’t tell all of them, did you? There was something you kept hidden.”
Even from myself. That thought rang out in my mind—a voice that wasn’t quite my own.
Hidden from myself.
What the fuck?
I gave Orion a tired smile. “No, I don’t spill my darkest secrets. They make people uncomfortable.”
“I doubt you’d find that to be the case with me.”
I doubted that, too. My darkness would be nothing to him. He held a world of shadows within himself.
But I wasn’t about to spill my guts to one of my suspects, and I had a very important question to ask him. One that related to my investigation. “Orion, when we were in the Tower of Baal, one of the demon males had a symbol on his head. Like a crescent moon. What is that?”
He shifted into the cushion and spread his arms out across the sofa back. When human men took up space like that, it was a defensive posture. Was it the same for demons?