Haunted by Shadows (Demons of New Chicago #2) - Kel Carpenter Page 0,1
I waffled in indecision. “Dinner,” I insisted. “That’s it. We eat, and you tell me where Bree is.”
His lips curled in a cruel smile as he regarded me. “We’ll see. We have much to talk about.” I didn’t like that answer, but what real other choice did I have? Either I walked, and our odds of finding Bree were zero-to-none, or I went with him.
I straightened my back and took his hand. Instead of threading his fingers through mine as I expected, he pulled me slightly in front of him and then released my hand, possessively placing his on my lower back. I lifted an eyebrow at him, and he mimicked the motion mockingly as he led me around the pier.
“For someone that says we have so much to talk about, you don’t say much.”
The corner of his mouth curled upward. “I’m just admiring that my atma finally came to me willingly. What can I say? After chasing you for weeks, I’m savoring victory.”
And will be for the last time if I have my way.
“Don’t get used to it,” I said instead.
He chuckled. “You’re wary of me. Understandable to an extent, given what you’ve been through—”
“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” I said sharply. Ronan paused, and his hand fell away. I turned back after walking a few feet.
“Oh, but I do,” he said softly. There was a dark edge to his voice. A dangerous note. “What do you think I’ve been doing when I’m not chasing you? Claude Lewis’ memories gave me a starting point. I followed those pieces of information I gained like a trail of breadcrumbs, finding people you’ve worked with or for. I’ve tracked places you’ve been. People who’ve hurt you. These last few weeks I’ve immersed myself in your world for you.” He stepped forward, and I stood my ground. “I know the Magic Wars hurt you and your family. That made you power hungry. Desperate. You would do anything to save them and save yourself. You’ve always been proactive that way, and it led you down the path you’re on now.”
“Don’t talk like you know me,” I spat. “You hunted down people who haven’t known me. What they saw was a phase of my life. A mask. A child. You invaded my privacy—”
“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so stubborn,” he said quietly, but not harshly. Ronan lifted a hand to run one finger down my cheek.
“Exactly. I’m stubborn. Willful. I don’t like change, and I like magic even less. It ruined my life, and you can’t change that. You can’t make me love it or you. So I don’t understand why you keep trying.”
“It’s not about love. It never has been. Love is for humans.”
“Then what’s it about?”
“You’re mine,” he said, as if it were that simple. “I’ve existed for a long time, Piper. The world I come from is different, but also the same in that I stopped caring. It didn’t matter where I was or who I was with. Numbness was settling over when you created the door and called out. I felt your magic, and for the first time in a very long time, I was alive. I smelled you and knew it was a scent that could intoxicate me. You’re an enigma, and I find that fascinating. I want to know you. I want to own you. Not because of some misguided love, but because the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was no going back. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to—and I don’t.”
My lips parted, somewhat in shock, because he wasn’t lying. He truly believed that, and I knew in that moment there was no going back for me either. Ronan would never leave me alone.
“Surprised you, have I?” he mused, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. Then he reached around and rested his hand on my back and guided me toward the water. “Come. Let’s eat.” I moved mechanically at his side as he led me onto a riverboat. It was the only one in the harbor. A wooden board bridged the gap between the walkway and the ship. In my ear, the piece crackled once more, reminding me Nathalie was there and had heard every word.
“Hot damn, are you sure you don’t want to reconsider this bond business?” Nathalie said. “He might be a demon and a stage five clinger, but—”
I reached up and flicked the earpiece, knowing it would get my point across.