Page 92 of An Oath at Midnight

He seemed to have gained their trust, not an easy thing to do in this city. People tended to shoot first and ask questions later. He’d been a member of Red for five months.

The connections were tenuous at best, but it wasn’t like I had much else to go on. Whoever hurt Chase, they’d chosen Red for a reason. The only one I could come up with was to expose the prom committee. They wanted everyone to know what they were into, to ruin them, and to humiliate them, and a member of their tight inner circle murdered in a BDSM club would most definitely cause a stir. Bram and me showing up had ruined that plan. And not only had Chase lived, but he’d been taken away by the witches council before any Nightscape reporters could descend.

“Ready?” Bram asked.

I nodded.

“Will you be okay? I’m gonna have to hold you close,” he said.

“I’m okay right now.” And I hoped like fuck I stayed that way, for a little while at least, for both our sakes. Bram needed to be able to touch me, and I needed to be touched. This increase in my scar sensitivity, especially when it came to him, was honestly starting to scare me.

“You’ll tell me if it gets too much?” he said as he tugged off his shirt. He tucked it in the waistband of his jeans, and his wings sprouted from his back.

“I will.”

He scooped me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. There was a low vibration fluttering across my skin, and I wasn’t sure if my scars were waking up and taking notice or it was just my body’s reaction to being so close to Bram. His hold was firm but not tight, his muscles rock solid. Then he pressed his nose against my throat and breathed deep. A quiver rolled through him and he groaned in a way I knew was involuntary.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

I bit my lip. Just being this close had my pulse fluttering like mad. “You okay?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you just…you smell really fucking good.”

I fought my own shiver. “You smell pretty good yourself.” And he did, so good. I thought about the way he’d looked while we were up in the lookout, the sounds he’d made, the way he’d watched me. I moistened my lips, my belly flipping about.

His gaze slid to my mouth and back, and his nostrils flared. “Fuck,” he muttered, then his jaw tightened and we shot up, his wings beating hard. We soared higher, looping around the side of the building, up to the top floor. He hovered above.

Maria sat below us, relaxing on the balcony, reading.

This was probably a terrible idea, but I was running out of time and options.

Bram tucked in his wings and dropped, landing on the penthouse balcony with a thud.

Maria screamed and jumped off her banana lounger, tossing her book at us. Bram caught it.

I lifted my hands. “We’re not here to hurt you, Maria. We just want to talk.”

Her eyes were wide as she stumbled back. “I told you I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I just have a couple of questions, then we’ll leave, okay?”

She started shrieking, uncontrollably.

Bram shadowed out and popped up behind her. He clamped his hand over her mouth, and she started struggling, completely freaking out.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” I said again. “We just want to talk. Calm down.” I looked up at Bram. “If you promise not to scream, he’ll take his hand away.”

Her wild eyes were locked on me.

“Okay?”

She jerkily nodded, and Bram eased his hand from her mouth.

“W-what do you want?” she said.

“We just want to ask you a few questions. That’s all.”

She nodded again.