“If the gargoyle is a thief, I’ll track him down. I promise he won’t be returning.”
She swallowed a sigh. A part of her would always appreciate Elijah’s fierce desire to protect her. But she was tired of waiting for him to see her as a grown woman who was more than capable of taking care of herself.
She’d been doing it for a very long time.
“I want him to return.”
“Que?” the vampire demanded with obvious impatience. “He already stole your amulet—who knows what he might steal next?”
“I don’t care about the amulet.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I’m concerned about Levet’s reason for taking it.”
Elijah shrugged. “He could pawn it for a small fortune. Lesser demons often use thievery to support themselves.”
“Stop being such a snob,” she chided, absently twirling a golden curl around her finger. It was a habit she’d acquired when she was just a young girl, still innocently believing that she would find her Prince Charming and settle down to raise a dozen little blue-eyed nymphs. The habit was the only thing left of that silly, idealistic little girl. “Levet came to Paris for a purpose. I have a feeling that he hoped the amulet would assist him in his goal.”
He gently reached to tug the curl from her finger and smoothed it behind her ear.
“If you don’t care about the amulet being stolen, then why are you troubled?”
“I’m worried that Levet will be hurt,” she murmured, resisting the urge to stroke her cheek against his hand. Like a cat demanding to be petted. “When I found him near the tower he was being attacked by two large gargoyles who clearly didn’t like him.”
The temperature dropped until Valla would swear she could see her breath.
“Mère de dieu,” Elijah growled, his fingers cupping her chin in a grip that forced her to meet his dark glare. “You weren’t stupid enough to interfere, were you?”
Her muscles clenched, her eyes slowly narrowing. There might have even been a bit of steam escaping from her ears.
“Stupid?”
He missed the edge of danger in her voice. The clan chief might be a cunning, lethal predator who ruled most of France with a brutal force, but he was still a man.
Clueless.
“Valla, pure-blood gargoyles are not only one of the most dangerous demons to walk the earth, but they’re ruthless, amoral, and happy to slaughter the innocent.”
“I’m not a complete idiot, Elijah,” she said, pronouncing the words with a slow, deliberate enunciation. “I know that gargoyles are dangerous.”
His jaw knotted, as if battling against the urge to toss her over his shoulder and haul her to the protection of his lair.
Predictable.
He wasn’t going to be happy until he had her locked away so he wouldn’t have to worry about her.
“Then why would you put yourself at risk?”
“I saw a creature in need so I did what I thought was necessary.” She met his burning gaze without flinching. “Besides, I was never at risk. I fired a few arrows from the bushes.”
“You think a bush would have protected you from gargoyles?”
She knocked away his hand, annoyed that even when she was furious with this vampire she still longed for his touch.
“This conversation is over.”
“Valla . . .”
“No.” She pointed a finger into his obscenely handsome face. “I’m not a child that needs to be told what I can or can’t do.”
The chill remained, but it was no longer edged with anger.
Instead, a far more dangerous emotion swirled through the air as he studied her with an unwavering focus that made her heart slam against her ribs.
“Believe me, I have never mistaken you for a child.”
Her lips parted to point out the numerous occasions he’d tried to coddle her, but the words went unspoken as he grasped her face in a firm grip and kissed her.
Or more precisely, he devoured her.
Her hands lifted to grasp his forearms as his tongue slipped between her lips, tangling with hers as he maneuvered her until her backside pressed against the counter.
He tasted of raw male power and opulent sensuality. A taste that was swiftly becoming her addiction.
A groan was torn from her throat as his thickening arousal pressed against her lower stomach, his fangs fully extended. Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach, spreading through her body.
Oh . . . crap, she was melting.
And it was the most wondrous thing she’d ever felt.
Easing his kiss, Elijah stroked his lips over her flushed cheek and then down the length of her neck, finding a sensitive hollow just below her collarbone.
Lightning zigzagged through her, setting her blood on fire with a need she’d never even dreamed possible.
When she was young she’d thought passion was a sweet, giddy emotion. She’d certainly felt it often enough among the nymph males who were renowned for their beauty. Then, she’d been captured by the slavers, and desire had become dark and ugly and terrifying.
Something to be avoided at all cost.