Yeah, she’d learned that the hard way, but enough chitchat. It was time for some action, even if it hurt. She’d lost any patience for waiting around. “If you and I are going to fight, I’d like to start now. It’s getting cold.”
He rubbed his chin with what looked like thick glove insoles. Witches probably didn’t need full gloves. “Well, I have to admit, I caught some of your earlier fight. You can hit, darlin’.”
She breathed out evenly. That didn’t sound like a compliment, but even more, it didn’t feel like one. She was damaged and had needed to learn to fight physically, but she didn’t need to share that fact with him. “I took karate.”
“Nice try, but you’re not human. It took me a while, and I don’t really understand what’s going on, but now at least I know what you are.” He took two steps toward her, casting an intimidating shadow across the icy beach. “Take off the sunglasses, Cee Cee.”
She swallowed. There was no reason to keep them on—one hit from him and they’d fly off. She slid them up her forehead to hold back her hair. “Why?”
He glanced down, no expression providing insight to his thoughts. “And the contacts.”
She blinked. The thought occurred to her to deny she was wearing contacts, but instead, she lifted her chin. “No.”
“Take them out, or I will.”
She glanced down at his huge hands. No, she didn’t want one of those fingers in her eyes. Apparently the gig was up, anyway. “Fine.” Yanking off her glove, she reached up and removed the colored contacts to fling them onto the snow. The cold instantly enfolded her hand and dug into her eyes. Then she faced him squarely, her eyes no longer blue. “Happy now?”
He slowly, very slowly, shook his head. Anger vibrated on the arctic breeze. “Fuck no, I’m not happy. Demon.”
Chapter 4
Daire stared at the stunning woman facing him so bravely. White-blond hair, sparkling black eyes, tiny stature, and hoarse voice. A purebred female demon. They were so rare as to be almost extinct, and not for a second had he considered she was part of the demon species. She looked much more angel than anything else. Of course, angels didn’t exist, and demons were just another race with no ties to heaven or hell. Just earth.
Most demons gave off intrusive vibrations of energy, and it usually took years, centuries really, for one to be able to temper the waves. But this one? This one didn’t give off any hint of demonness. “Why couldn’t I tell what you are?” he asked, ignoring the freezing wind cutting into his eyes.
Her gaze faltered and then strengthened. “Maybe you’re not all that talented.”
At the moment, he didn’t appreciate flippancy. Standing this close to her, even knowing what she was, his body rioted. Not even the sub-zero temperature could cool his raging cock. “How old are you?”
She huffed. “What a rude question.”
“Answer it, or I’ll show you rude.”
She rolled those stunning eyes. “Fine. I’m a hundred and twenty-five.” Then she frowned, looking no more than twenty-five years old. For her species, she was young. “How old are you?”
“Over three centuries.” He narrowed his gaze, fighting every animalistic urge he owned not to tackle her to the ground and take what she’d offered the other night. “You’re not old enough to be able to mask your energy. Not nearly old enough to do it so well.” He’d met demons over a thousand years old who couldn’t mask to that degree. “Explain.”
She lifted one small shoulder, and the wind kicked in, lifting her light hair. “We all have unique gifts, Enforcer. That’s mine.”
He frowned as the cold slapped his bare face. Nothing about the woman was adding up, and even so, his fingers itched to run through her hair.
She shivered.
He swore. “Put your glove back on.”