I gave Onyx a sideway glance. “About?”
“About you searching for something here.”
“Are we not all searching forsomethingin this life?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Wow.” I widened my eyes. “Why so grim, buttercup?”
Onyx straightened. “Not grim. Just curious.”
“About what?”
“You.”
I balked, smiled, then tossed the shot of tequila back without being even slightly aware of its sting as it traveled down my throat. “Believe me, there’s nothing worth being curious about.”
“I don’t believe that. I’ve never seen you around these parts of town before, yet this is the third time in one week we happen to run into each other?”
“I know. It’s really random, don’t you think?” I turned to face him again, and his eyes pulled into slits as he studied me. “Your lack of a sense of humor is really unbecoming.” I turned and glanced around the bar. “Where’s that guy with the pretty scar on his face? He seems like he could be fun to hang around.”
Onyx shifted closer again, and I could smell the spicy scent of his expensive cologne which contradicted his street look with a pair of torn jeans and a dirty shirt. My gaze drifted to the shirt he wore beneath his cut. Onyx wasn’t a small man, muscles and brute teasing through the white fabric. It had been a long time since I appreciated a man standing so close to me, his large frame hiding me from the rest of the dimly-lit bar. Whether it was his smell or his presence, I didn’t know. But I felt drunk after only one shot of alcohol yet managed to keep my stone composure from cracking.
“See something you like…buttercup?” His voice dipped low, but it wasn’t any less powerful. This wasn’t the man I met in the bar last week, nor the man I encountered while they were on their Sunday run. This man was different. Intense. And a lot more intimidating.
I kept my eyes locked with his. “Other than the bottle of tequila behind you, no.”
He smiled, but it was as cold as the blue of his eyes, and it sent a chill down my spine. “You seem like a smart woman, Wraith. Which is why you should turn around and walk out of this place.”
“I don’t scare easily.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because once you’ve descended into hell, there’s no getting out.”
I moved forward, lifting my chin as I continued to look him in the eye. “What gives you the idea I’m not already in hell?”
I felt his warm breath skid across my cheek, eyes glancing from mine down to my lips and back up. The corner of his mouth twitched, yet he remained unmoved. Still. Frozen. Just like me.
The bar full of people disappeared. The New York City buzz vanished, replaced by something heavy and laden with tension, with a need to touch. To take. To use.
“Where did you come from, Wraith?” He leaned down, his face inches from mine. “Who are you?”
I could smell the bourbon on his breath, and mixed with his spicy scent, it was something I could get high on.
This was wrong.
This was dangerous.
You should run.
But I came here to find him.
Well, you found him. Now run.
I took a step back. “You’ll never know.”