“Yeah, okay.” Adam took a purple ticket and gave him the keys.
Even past midnight, the city hummed and snapped with life. An urban rhythm bellowed from an unknown source. Cars shhhed in passing, brakes whined. A voice rose in conversation and then dribbled away into the sound soup. Talia inhaled deeply and caught the soft scent of night, mingling with the smells of old concrete, exhaust, and waste. Strangely, the combination was not unpleasant. She craned her head to see the tops of looming buildings. So much life packed so tightly together.
“I’ve never been here before,” she said to Adam when she noted his amusement.
“Nowhere else like it. This way,” he said, “we’ve got to get inside.”
Right. Monsters at any moment could jump out, teeth bared, with a big, bad boo! and eat her up. Inside was much better.
She followed Adam as he cut diagonally across the street. Three blocks down, he stopped at a doorway. She rolled her eyes when she noticed the slim keypad at eye level. Typical Adam. They took an industrial elevator to the top floor, which opened into a wide space.
He strode inside, saying, “It’s safe here. Neither of my codes would have worked if anyone had entered the building in my absence.”
“Uh-huh. You own the whole building?” Of course he did.
Huge, vibrant abstract paintings dominated the walls, reaching up two stories, twisting in sinuous color. Reds, oranges, burgundy, brick, all layered in oils for dimension and drama. The furniture complemented the art with clean lines and deep, solid tones, just off black. The air was slightly stale. To one side was a sitting area with chairs, coffee table, and sofa, arranged to catch the startling and awesome view of the city at night. The windows extended from floor to ceiling, but the scarred wood floors reminded her particularly of Adam: solid, beautiful, and worn.
Talia gazed back at the windows. “Can anyone see inside?”
“The glass goes one way. Make yourself at home; kitchen pantry should have food. I’ve got to check in with Custo, make sure everyone else got out okay.”
She turned in the direction he gestured. She stood next to an open kitchen of stark, brushed steel, but her gaze was drawn, again, out the window.
Not hungry, no. Not while that view swallowed her. Pinprick lights blinked across a speared landscape. Raw and masculine, the city pulsed with seductive power, a power that she imagined could easily be unkind, even cruel, to strangers.
She shifted her gaze to Adam’s reflection in front of her, superimposed on the city vista. He was bent over a desk, jotting something down while speaking on the phone, his voice a gruff rumble. His shirt took its shape from the lines of his muscled back. When he stood, the hard plane of his chest and broad bunch of his shoulders had heat washing over her, her pulse quickening, a spark firing in her belly.
Her gaze met his in the glass. His expression was sober and serious, eyes hot and piercing. She’d run from him twice, rejecting the turmoil under his controlled surface. Shuttering herself against the burn of his intensity. That was just dumb and weak. And she was sick of running.
They were at the brink of destruction, a precipice at the edge of the abyss; there was no going back. No time left to grasp at life. She wanted him.
He continued his call, giving short, clipped instructions, but still his gaze was fixed on her. Holding her in place. She couldn’t have broken the connection if she tried. Adam was the city, dangerous with power and his own brand of menace.
He hung up and slowly came to stand behind her. He didn’t touch her, but the warmth of his breath stirred the hair at her nape. His nearness had her responding to phantom touches, her body aching to arch against him, to tilt her head and give him access to her neck. She could almost feel the scorch of his mouth, just there, again.
“Is everyone okay?” she asked instead. Her voice was too thin.
“So far so good,” Adam answered, distracted as his gaze slid down the reflection of her body in the window. “Custo is getting the last of them safely settled. Then he’ll join us here.”
“So that’s good. Everything’s good,” she said carefully. Her nerves buzzed, willing him to touch. To take.
“Yeah.” He brought his eyes back to hers.
Adam’s jaw tightened, twitched, and he stepped back. Then he stepped back again.
Talia dropped her gaze to the floor, her face heating in embarrassment.
He cleared his throat. “Have you made up your mind, Talia?”
Her brain fumbled. “What do you mean?” Was he actually asking permission to touch her this time? That would be a first.
“This war, Talia, have you thought about what it entails? Can you handle it? I need you to commit to it. You’re the only weapon that we have.”
A weapon. The blood in her veins was hot before, but now it scalded. “You mean that you’re going to aim me at the wraiths and say, ‘Scream.’ Yes, I kinda got that part.”