She flinched.
“Go to sleep, Amber. You don’t want to know anything else about my past.”
“And I won’t be around to see your future,” she whispered.
They didn’t have a future. She was his bounty, and soon he’d be dropping her off on Luke’s doorstep. She shouldn’t get involved with Cass. The less she knew about him, the better.
But…
Her eyes closed.
He’d just been six years old when they cut off his hands.
A tear slid down her cheek.
***
She’d…cried, for him.
Cass’s gloved hand touched Amber’s cheek, moving very carefully. She was asleep, so he’d moved closer to her. The tear track was nearly dry on her skin now. His index finger followed that faint line.
Strange. Cass didn’t think anyone had ever cried for him.
Maybe the tear wasn’t for me. Maybe she was crying because she’s afraid. Because I’m taking her to the Lord of the Dark. A smart woman would cry when faced with him.
He eased away from her. Cass sat up in the bed.
She slept deeply, her breathing slow and easy.
He reached for the phone and dialed the concierge. So what if it was the middle of the night? The concierge was supposed to be twenty-four seven, right?
“How may I help you?” The voice on the other end of the line inquired in an oh-so-professional voice.
“I want flowers.” His words were low and rasping. He didn’t want to wake Amber. “Can you bring some damn flowers up here?”
“Uh, sir?”
“Roses.” Those were popular, right? “Just bring some roses up here. Have them here by…” He stretched a bit, looking at the clock on Amber’s side of the bed. “Four a.m.” Because he planned to be out of that hotel by five.
“Sir, I don’t think you understand—”
“I’ve got plenty of money,” Cass cut in. “Just bring the damn flowers, okay?” He couldn’t go out and get them, not without having to pull Amber with him.
She wanted flowers. He’d give her flowers.
“And put some chocolate in the vase, okay?” Cass snapped.
“In the vase…with the flowers?”
“Get the freaking things up here.” He hung up the phone. Then he glanced at her, worried she’d woken. Worried she’d laugh at him for even trying— She was still asleep. But…
A whimper came from her. Instantly, he was pulling her closer because she’d sounded scared.
In pain.
“It…hurts…” Her eyes didn’t open. She burrowed closer against him, and he liked that.
But Cass didn’t like the pain he heard in her voice.
Her head rubbed against his chest. “Make it…stop.”
Amber talked in her sleep. Interesting.
“No one will hurt you,” he said, and he found himself stroking her back. Trying to soothe her.
A Reaper, soothing. Ridiculous. Insane.
But his hand slipped over her back, rubbing up and down and gliding near her shoulder— She let out a quick, pain-filled cry. “Make it…stop,” she begged again, her voice barely a breath of sound. “Make it stop…Luke.”
Cass stiffened. Then his fingers stroked her shoulder again. Her left shoulder. And he felt the faint edge of a raised scar beneath her t-shirt.
Anger pulsed inside of him.
His fingers slid straight across her back, moving to her right shoulder. Once more, he could feel the edge of a scar pressing up through the thin t-shirt.
“Luke…” Her breathing hitched. “I’m…sorry…please…”
Cass wanted to see those scars. He wanted to see just what pain had been inflicted on her beautiful body. He wanted to rip the shirt away.
Instead, he held her against him. He kept stroking her.
Soon she stopped whispering in her sleep. She stopped begging.
But the anger in him—it grew into a twisting rage.
Luke had hurt her before? Cass was sure the Lord of the Dark had hurt many, many people. He’d never really thought about the destruction and pain that had been created by Luke Thorne.
Yet…it mattered to him that Amber had been the one to suffer at Luke’s hands.
It mattered a whole fucking lot.
Chapter Six
Amber’s eyes flew open and she jerked up in bed. The nightmare was fading, trickling away—a warning of the danger coming.
She hadn’t been given a foreshadowing dream in a very, very long time. That meant some very serious shit was coming her way. Dammit. As if her luck wasn’t already crap.
“You talk in your sleep.”
Her jaw dropped as she swung her head toward Cass. Only Cass wasn’t in bed with her. Fully dressed, he stood beside the bed, with his gloved hands on his hips. “You should warn a guy when you’re going to get chatty in bed.”
She closed her jaw—and jumped out of bed. “Not like I had a choice on sleeping with you!” But she had to focus on what mattered. “What…exactly did I say?” Because her head was aching from all the visions she’d had. Visions from her past. Visions from her present.
And, unfortunately, visions that could be from her future.
I have to get out of here. I have to run.
“Take off your shirt.”