Candy Houses by Walker Shiloh

Author:Walker, Shiloh [Walker, Shiloh]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Erotica, Paranormal, Fiction
ISBN: 9781605048017
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Published: 2009-10-06T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Rip stuck his head under the piss-poor showerhead and rinsed the shampoo from his hair. He had the water on cold in the hopes that it would clear his mind. He had a job to do and he was letting himself get distracted—

Hell. Greta was more than a distraction.

To him, she was everything.

The silver medallion around his neck grew warm against his skin as he reached for the soap. Rip ignored it. The warmth faded. But ten seconds later, it did it again and this time, it wasn’t warm—it was hot. Hot enough that when he glanced down, he saw a faint red mark where the metal had rested against his skin. Swearing, he finished scrubbing off and rinsed off. He reached up and closed his hand around the bit of silver and closed his eyes.

What?

Rip didn’t bother wasting time with pleasantries. Not with this jerk.

You are on assignment. The voice echoed inside his head.

Yes, I am. But I’ve also got an obligation to help my brethren.

Helping your brethren…is that what you call this? That is why you linger? It has nothing to do with Gretel?

There was a sly undertone to the words and Rip curled his lip, wished he wasn’t just communicating via mind, wished the bastard was there so he could punch him. She doesn’t go by Gretel anymore.

That is no answer.

I know my job, Rip answered. I’ve never failed yet, have I?

There is always a first time. There was a pause and then, So you expect me to believe you’ll resume your duties tonight? That you will leave this mess to Gretel?

Her name is Greta, Rip corrected. She hates the name Gretel and you know that. Don’t worry. I remember my obligations. I’ll see to them.

I hope you do.

The presence withdrew and Rip was alone in his head once more. Scowling, he let go of the charm and looked down at his chest. The faint redness had already faded, his body soaking up the small injury like a sponge.

He needed to get some sleep. His head was all cloudy, from fatigue, from worry…from Greta. He needed sleep and he needed to think, to plan.

He remembered his obligations, all right.

And taking care of Greta was obligation number one.

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