Sacrifice the Wicked by Cooper Karina

Author:Cooper, Karina [Cooper, Karina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, Paranormal
ISBN: 9780062127693
Google: j7KFtgAACAAJ
Amazon: 0062127691
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2012-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

He was an idiot.

Simon perched on the edge of the bed in the master bedroom he’d never seen, heedless of the expensive bedclothes under him. The safe house was one of three he’d managed to install topside, but even this place wouldn’t stay safe for long. Not once they really started looking. He needed a plan.

And instead, he hid.

He clutched his thermal shirt in both hands, the waffle weave rough in his palms, and stared sightlessly at the damp, sweat-stained fabric. Maybe it was the pounding in his head, settled now to a dull throb in the back of his skull. That headache. That same symptom promising a messy, bloody end, and soon.

Maybe it was the vertigo that pulled the world out from under him as he’d tried to focus on not throwing up.

Or it was Parker herself. All that fire-red hair tangled around her face. The concern in her mysterious blue eyes.

The way her mouth pressed together when she actively kept herself from saying what she wanted to say.

No. No, he was just an idiot.

Because Simon was pretty fucking sure that love wasn’t a part of this equation. He killed people, absolutely. Murdered the witches well on the way to degeneration, watched the woman who’d made him die in his arms. But he wasn’t cruel. Not enough to put her—to put himself—through that kind of hell.

That talk of a syringe didn’t matter.

They didn’t have a lab, and they didn’t have the damn thing to test. It could have been a tube filled with water, for all she knew. Nothing changed for him.

The only thing that meant was that he now had a compelling motive for Sector Three’s action against her.

If they even suspected she’d seen anything from Matilda, Sector Three wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. The Church didn’t like loose ends, and she was a tangled one.

“Still sulking, Mr. Wells?”

Simon stiffened, pain streaking through the raw flesh at his side. It was too late to pretend he hadn’t just been sitting there. Staring at nothing. The way she leaned against the doorjamb, her arms folded under her breasts, a roll of bandages held loosely in one hand, told him she’d been there long enough to get the picture.

He didn’t bother to try. “You need to get some rest,” he said curtly. This time, when he rose to his feet, the floor stayed nice and firm beneath him.

A corner of her mouth angled downward. “You need a keeper,” she said, as if he hadn’t just dismissed her.

Anger curled in his chest. And more. “Go away, Director.”

He knew how much the way he said her title annoyed her. Had since the day she’d corrected his blatantly disrespectful use of Miss in her name. Tweaking her temper usually amused him.

Right now, he wasn’t after amusement. He felt savage. Like an injured animal.

Like a rutting beast.

Biological clock? Awareness of his own death weighing on him? Maybe.

Or maybe Parker Adams had buried herself so far under his skin that he didn’t know how to get her out.

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