Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)

I scanned the part of his scalp I could see and then laced my fingers in his hair, letting my fingers read the truth of his healed scalp even if my eyes couldn’t see it. Without his glamour, Falin’s hair was closer to white than blond and, like his skin, seemed to give off its own light. I ran my hands through those soft locks, fol owing one that fel over his etched cheekbone and cascaded down his chin to his throat.

His gaze snagged mine. There might have stil been pain somewhere in those blue eyes, but more than anything there was heat. He watched me look at him and his lips parted, his pupils dilating. Only then did I consider the fact that I’d just had my hands on his sculpted abs and chest while examining his wound, then in his hair, and now . . .

while examining his wound, then in his hair, and now . . .

Heat rushed to my face. While I’d been focused on his wounds everything had been so clinical, but now I was acutely aware that we were in my smal bathroom, standing very close, and he was only half dressed.

He was also injured. And taken.

“I’l just—” I pointed over my shoulder as I backed away.

“Wait.” He flashed me a smile. Dawn had come and gone, and there must have been something to what he’d said because he moved easier as he crouched and opened the cabinets under the sink. “Have you seen my toothbrush?”

I cringed. “I told you to get it out of my bathroom.” “You threw it out?”

God, I wished I had. But I hadn’t. Not that I planned to tel him that. And what was with the hurt eyes? What would it matter if I had tossed the toothbrush?

I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin, which earned the exact opposite response from what I’d expected—a lopsided grin claimed his face.

“You’re mad at me again. I told you, I’m on to you, Alexis.

You wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t care.” He waggled a gloved finger at me and returned to rooting around under my sink. “So where did you hide my toothbrush?”

I stepped in front of him, blocking his access to the cabinet with my legs. “You think you’ve got me figured out, huh? Wel , I think you missed a couple of chapters, so let me give you a quick highlight. I’ve got commitment and abandonment issues.” It wasn’t like that was a big secret—

even my favorite bartender knew that. “You disappearing without a word? That doesn’t help. And finding out you’re the Winter Queen’s lover? Yeah, no. I don’t know what was happening between us a month ago. Personal y, I blame it on the adrenaline from tracking Coleman. But whatever it was, it’s over. Now I’m glad you are no longer dying on my front lawn, and I’m glad you were here when the ravens attacked, but I think it’s time for you to go home.”

attacked, but I think it’s time for you to go home.”

He was stil crouched on the floor, staring up at me, and each word out of my mouth attacked his expression like verbal shrapnel. By the time I’d finished, his face had shut down and thrown up shields of apathy. With his lips taut and grim and his gaze cold, he pushed to his feet. Then he looked around as if uncertain why he was there in the first place.

“I’l go, then,” he said, stepping around me and out of the bathroom.

“Wait,” I cal ed after him, my anger dissipated. He paused at my front door, but he didn’t turn to face me.

“Maybe we can meet for drinks or something if situations change,” I said because as much as I hated it, seeing him again more than proved there was a spark. But I couldn’t do it like this. With him injecting himself into my life without warning while I waited for him to disappear again.

He glanced back as he stepped outside. The morning sunlight streaming in through the open door caught in his hair and made it a shimmering halo around his face.

“Watch yourself, Alex Craft. You are attracting the wrong kind of attention. Again. And I meant what I said to Agent Nori. You’ve caught the queen’s interest, so be cautious.”

Then the door slammed behind him, and he was gone.

I ran across the room and jerked the door open.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I cal ed, but the landing was empty, as were the stairs. Falin wasn’t like Death; he couldn’t just vanish. Glamour—it had to be.

“I know you’re stil here.” Or at least I was pretty sure.

No answer.

Damn. I opened my shields, just enough for my psyche to slip through. The decaying land of the dead overlaid the real world like a double exposure as Aetheric energy swirled around me, close enough to touch. I peered through swirled around me, close enough to touch. I peered through it, glancing down the steps, into the yard behind. I ignored the way the wooden steps looked rotted and pitted, the grass brown and decayed. Amid al the decay what I stil didn’t see was Falin. He can’t have gotten far. But there was no movement. No one.

How did he—? I turned and found him directly behind me, leaning in the corner where the porch rail and the side of the house met. After the morning I’d had, my frayed nerves didn’t take wel to another surprise.

I yelped, stumbling backward, and my foot smashed through what my senses perceived as a decaying board.

The wood crumbled around my calf as I lost my footing, and the porch swal owed my leg up to my thigh.

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