Page 11 of A Touch of Crimson
“Why do you need bodyguards?”
Adrian lifted his shoulder in an offhand shrug, his gaze trained on Lindsay as it had been since they’d entered his local organic grocery. She was long and lean, athletic. Her body was a credit to the Creator, and she kept it in prime shape. The way she carried her weight on her feet was notable for its predaceous grace. While her outward appearance was relaxed, he sensed the edge to her. His mood was strongly affecting her, yet she rolled with it, maintaining an admirable level of control.
She was in a lot better state than he was.
Shadoe’s return was shredding his equanimity. Shopping for dinner ingredients seemed absurd, considering the violent need tensing every muscle in his body. Here, finally, was the one woman who made him hunger and crave and feel as no other could. The one woman capable of making him acutely aware of every second of his two hundred years of celibacy…and he couldn’t have her. Not yet.
“Notoriety leads to unwanted attention,” he explained with studious evenness.
Which was why he avoided going out in public when Shadoe wasn’t with him. He did so now because it served a variety of purposes—it continued his campaign to appear unfazed by the morning’s attack, it established a sense of normalcy and intimacy with Lindsay, and it gave her the opportunity to select the ingredients she preferred.
She glanced at the lycans who stood on either end of the produce section. “Dangerous attention? Your bullet catchers are pretty big guys.”
“Sometimes. Nothing for you to worry about. I’ll keep you safe.”
“If I scared easily”—Lindsay picked up a sweet potato and dropped it into a plastic produce bag—“I wouldn’t have left the airport in a strange city with a guy I don’t know.”
She knew him, even if she didn’t realize why or how. It was obvious she relied on her gut instincts more than black-and-white reasoning, and that intuition was filling in the blanks on his behalf. She’d taken one look at him and set her sights. No hesitation. Just a straight-up, in-your-face I want you look that had volleyed the ball into his court with a rapid-fire salvo.
Lindsay gestured at the nearly overflowing handbasket he was carrying. “I’m looking forward to watching you cook all this and seeing if I can pick up a few tips on how to prepare tempura, which is one of my favorite dishes.”
“Do you cook?”
That made her laugh. “Stovetop stuff. Nothing complicated. With a single-parent dad and a crazy college schedule, I’ve eaten out more than I’ve eaten in.”
“We’ll change that.” He reached for a Mayan sweet onion, then deliberately allowed it to tumble from his grasp.
She snatched it out of the air with nearly the same speed he’d used to catch Jason’s flying sunglasses earlier.
“Here you go.” Lindsay tossed the vegetable to him, then turned away as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
His hand fisted, and the onion burst within his palm like a raw eggshell. As the fragrant juice flowed over his fingers, he cursed and willed the mess into a waste bin across the room with a terse thought.
Lindsay pivoted at the sound, turning so fluidly that her canvas messenger bag didn’t sway from her side. She’d withdrawn the large carryall from her checked luggage the moment she tugged it off the baggage carousel. Her haste had roused his curiosity. Why not carry it on the plane if the need for it was that immediate?
Adrian studied her. Her economy of movement was impressive. And worrisome. “You have great reflexes.”
Her gaze shifted downward. “Thank you.”
“You could have played professional sports.”
“I thought about it.” Grabbing a bag of carrots, she placed it in his basket. “But I lack stamina.”
He knew why. Lindsay’s mortal body wasn’t built to sustain Shadoe’s naphil gifts. What he didn’t know was whether she had other talents.
A sense of urgency swept over him. He had to take out Syre as soon as possible.
Even knowing how drastically, perhaps catastrophically, the world would change when he killed the leader of the vampires, Adrian wasn’t deterred. Shadoe took precedence over everything. He’d made the mistake of putting himself first the night he attempted to circumvent her death; he would not be so selfish a second time.
But the cost would be high.
His mission was to contain and control the Fallen, not execute them. When he ended Syre’s life, he would be pulled from the earth for disobeying his orders, leaving the Sentinels without the captain they’d served under from their inception. The two factions—vampires and angels—would both be leaderless for a time, throwing the world into temporary chaos. But Shadoe’s soul would be freed of its enchainment to her father, and Adrian’s hypocrisy would be at an end. The mistake he’d made so long ago would finally be rectified.
In many ways, his actions would rebalance the scales. He and Syre had both proven unworthy of their leadership. Both the Fallen and the Sentinels deserved captains above reproach, individuals who could lead by example.
His phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, Adrian saw it was Jason. He apologized for the need to take the call, but Lindsay just shooed him off and continued on without him.
“Mitchell,” he answered.
