Eric shifted uncomfortably, releasing her. He didn’t want the moment to end, but that question reminded him that this was just a rouse. There was nothing that could happen here. There was no way he could love her. She’d pin-pointed something that made him squirm with regret. Eric lay back in the bed, folded his hands behind his head, and looked at the light. Ivy asked him that once, and he didn’t answer.
His eyes traced the colored beams, watching the light with longing. Before he knew it, he was speaking, saying things he never thought he’d say, “It’s the way it is. The light. It flows and never stops. It never changes, never ends—it can be beautiful and devastating.” His voice faded, becoming softer and softer as he spoke. He seemed to forget Natalia was there until she moved. Her long dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders. The make-up that covered her perfect skin was washed away last night. He’d been careful not to wake her, but he couldn’t stand to see her looking like that. She wasn’t some slut to him… she was more. His stomach twisted as she looked at him, seeing things that were long gone. He was a ghost of who he was. Eric could feel his mind slipping away from him on a daily basis. Soon there would be nothing left but bloodlust and rage.
“Like you,” her voice was soft, gentle. “Eric, there’s so much more than that. I don’t know why you can’t see it.” She sure as hell could. It was why she didn’t kill him. It was the reason she doubted him. These rare occasions made her pause.
He laughed, but there was no joy in it. “Natalia, how can you say things like that? How can you pretend to see any good in me when I’ve done such…”
She cut him off, “I’m not pretending. It’s there, hanging on by a thread.”
His golden gaze turned toward her, “You don’t know what you’re looking at. What you’re seeing. I’m the same man who killed two people last night. I’m the same man who was at the brothel to find another Jocelyn to slaughter and ease my pain. Natalia, there is no thread. It’s gone. All of me… what I was, it’s gone.” His voice was soft, remorseful.
There was no arguing with him. She knew he wouldn’t believe her. And she couldn’t tell him what she was, that she knew he wasn’t that far gone yet, but if he didn’t change… The thought made her shudder. If he didn’t change, this part of him would be lost—gone—as if it never existed. The darkness, the evil twisting inside of Eric would overpower what little good he had left. No, words wouldn’t help him, not now. Swallowing hard, she felt her pulse racing higher and higher. Eric sensed the change in her, but thought it was because she believed him, not because she was contemplating something that warred within her mind. Without another thought she leaned down and gently brushed her lips against his. Eric’s mouth was soft, his lips were smooth and perfect. She wanted to deepen the kiss and taste him, feel him, but she knew better. Her lips lingered for a moment, before she pulled away.
Eric didn’t know what she was doing, and before he figured it out, her lips were on his. He froze, feeling a surge of emotions flood his body, emotions that were good and pure. It stunned him, making him freeze in place. His eyes remained on her face, watching her long lashes as she kissed him. It wasn’t until she pulled away that she opened her eyes and gazed at him.
He began to sit up, but she held up her hand, “No. Eric, stay there. Stare at the light. It seems to be something you need.” Leaning back on his elbows he watched her, surprised again. Her fingers plucked the front of the shirt she was wearing. She blushed slightly and looked down, “Is there somewhere I can change?” She knew Eric saw her naked, and for some reason it bothered her even though it shouldn’t, not if she worked at a brothel, but her cheeks burned. She couldn’t suppress it, couldn’t hide it. When did things change? Was it last night? Or did it happen ages ago and she never noticed? Assuming he was her mother’s assassin all this time, well, she thought that was the reason why she stayed. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe there was something more.
He nodded and told her where to find extra clothes. There was running water down the hall. She didn’t ask how he did it, but Natalia knew he was the reason why there was running water and a shower in a pile of rubble. There was no one like Eric.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Natalia dried off she found Eric perched on the stone again. This action confused her. It was times like this that made her hesitate. What if she was wrong about him? The only way she could know for sure was if she found that legendary book—the Book of Days. The angels said their eldest warrior created a book, but that it burned with him when he fell. From what Natalia had seen, stories like that held a thread of truth. She’d linked the pieces together and followed a trail that led directly to Eric, though she wasn’t sure why. It didn’t matter. The book was real and it would reveal everything, if she could get her hands on it. But he’d hidden the damn thing and it was going on three years and she couldn’t find it. Hell, she’d never even seen it. Maybe he wasn’t the man she thought he was. Maybe he was just some screwed up solider who defected during the war. He sure acted like it at times. Eric made her fear for her life, or at least he wanted her to. And it didn’t matter how hard she tried to fear him, she couldn’t. It wasn’t like that with him and her. It never was.
Natalia crossed the room. A carpet surrounded the bed, but rubble littered the rest of the floor. It seemed to be the way Eric liked it. It was as if his bed was in the middle of a cave crafted by God himself. That’s what she thought the window was to him, it was something that altered the light and made it good. The longing on his face made her stomach churn. Why would he want to be different? After all this time, what would change his mind?
Eric looked over at her and she offered a weak smile. Her wet hair was pulled into a knot and laying at the base of her neck. She wore another of Eric’s shirts and a pair of shorts. They fit her and she wondered why he had them, but didn’t ask. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” his voice was soft. Something was happening to him. She didn’t think he could see it, but he wasn’t the same as when he first met her. She needed to find that book.
Natalia waited half a beat, and asked, “Are you going back to Carina’s?” She shouldn’t have asked. She didn’t want to know that about him, she didn’t want to see it or hear about it, and yet, she asked. Eyes on the floor, she kept her gaze lowered when she felt his gaze land on the side of her face.
His voice was a whisper, “Do you want me to?”
What kind of question was that? She glanced up at him, her eyebrows in her hairline, “No, of course I don’t want you to.”
Eric smiled shyly. It was so unlike him, so soft. “And why’s that?”
Natalia started swinging her legs, the floor of her stomach was falling away like she was kicked down an elevator shaft. “Why do you think?”
Eric placed his hands behind him, pulled his legs up, and leaned back, his taught muscles outlined by his dark shirt. “I don’t pretend to think anything. I don’t have the best luck when it comes to figuring out what you’re thinking.”
She breathed in deeply once, and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, “Obviously.” She laughed lightly, curling her toes, staring down at her bare feet. “I’d like it if you stayed with me today… if you don’t need to sate something.” There she said it. Why was that so hard? He didn’t matter to her. He didn’t.
Eric was gazing at the side of her face, his breathing relaxed. He trusted her. She could sense it. He laughed. It bubbled up from his stomach and joy burst through in his voice, “To sate something? Is that your weird way of asking if I’m horny? Or are you asking if you’re safe?”
Natalia’s brow pinched. She turned her head, looking over at him. “It’s not a weird question. You didn’t get what you went there for, which would make me think…” he cut her off.
“That I couldn’t control myself and would go running back to Carina’s and beg for another girl this morning?” He shook his head, golden hair falling in his eyes. Eric didn’t like her question. It inferred so many things about him, none of which he wanted to hear. The corners of his mouth pulled into a crooked smile, “What you must think of me?”
That was the million dollar question—what did she think of him? Natalia didn’t know anymore. At one time things were clear, but not now. What the hell was wrong with him?
Before she had time to think, she found herself speaking, answering a question that had no clear answer, “I think you’re lost. That’s what I think of you. That’s what it is at your very core, but it’s so much more than that, too.” Eric’s gaze locked with hers, his jaw tensing as she spoke. “You’ve lost more than you care to admit. And you’ve found ways to ease your pain, but they don’t help for long. They make you think you can’t be what you were, but that’s not true is it?” His gold eyes narrowed as they flashed at her. Eric was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, hating every word she said. She sensed it. A few more words would shatter him.
She bit her tongue, and changed directions, blindsiding him, “I’m not a virgin. I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m not Little Miss Purity. I never was…”
Eric’s expression faltered. The disgust he felt toward himself sank back into his belly. What was she talking about? He gripped the altar with his fingers, dragging his nails into the stone to keep himself still. “Nat, you don’t have to tell me anything. I don’t care why you were at Carina’s or what you do, as long as it doesn’t kill you.” He watched her face, wondering what she was thinking, hoping she’d tell him even though his words said otherwise. Tension built between the two of them. Eric’s heart raced in his chest, but he maintained the same placid expression as before. It seemed to infuriate her, and he had to admit that he liked that at times.
Natalia wanted to slap him. How could he act so cool and calm? He was playing with her, teasing her. He had to be. Part of her wished he’d cross the room and tell her why she was important to him—why he kept saving her. Tilting her head, she asked sweetly, “And will you keep protecting me? When I throw myself at some ass that wants to hurt me, and I want him to, what will you do?” Say it! Her mind was screaming, but Eric wouldn’t budge.
“If that’s what you want. Who am I to criticize what gets you off?” He flashed a crooked grin at her, although the thought of her being with someone else made his skin crawl. He leaned forward, sliding off the stone. “Last night’s over. It’s a new day. I’m not spending it here rehashing what happened. If you don’t care that I have certain lusts—that I will not partake in with you—then why don’t we go do something fun?” He held out his hand to her. Natalia looked at his pale palm. She wanted to take it. She wanted to go with him, even though her gut told her no.