Demon Night

of it. Most of it I don’t want to hear, anyway.”
    She stared at him, and despite his assurance, her mortification only deepened. For two months he’d lived next to her. And not just the living —she hadn’t had any men over in a long time, but she took care of herself. Had plenty of fantasies, and a few had included a faceless Ethan making his way over the wall. Had she ever said his name aloud?
    His hands were jammed deep in his pockets. “I swear that whenever you did anything intimate that I couldn’t tune out, I left.”
    Oh, thank God. Relief swept through her, but his eyes closed and his jaw firmed.
    “Don’t look at me grateful, Charlie. A man can only take so much before he thinks about unlocking a door that isn’t his to open.”
    She would have probably let him in. Even now, with that big bed behind him, she was thinking that she’d like to lose herself in that: the slide of skin, the intoxication that passion could bring. It would be that hot between them, that good, that numbing—their kiss had been evidence of it. His mouth would be all over her, and he’d be gentle, fucking her sweet and slow, until he lost control and then it would be deep and hard. He was so big, so strong, the craving in him just beneath the surface. But if he let it out, let it take over him, take her , she could just float along with it.
    It wouldn’t make a difference, though: the sun would rise, he still wouldn’t want to want her, and they’d have to go convince Jane that vampires existed and were crawling the night.
    She sighed. No, it wouldn’t all go away—but she would have loved for him to take her there for an hour or two.
    “Charlie—” His voice was strained. His fists drew the denim tight across his groin. Oh…Lord. Her gaze flew to his face, to his eyes—so intense they seemed to be glowing. His throat worked before he said, “I won’t unlock that door.”
    She didn’t flinch beneath that stare or the rejection his words contained. “I don’t remember asking you.”
    “No.” Ethan rubbed at the back of his neck, his expression changing to one of chagrin. “No, that you didn’t.”
    But he obviously wanted it, too. Was considering it. His body had reacted as if he’d been thinking the same thing she had— oh, Jesus .
    Horror clutched at her chest. “Can you read my mind?”
    “No.” His hand dropped to his side. “Your emotions. Some images, if you think them hard enough.”
    That wasn’t much better. “Can you not do it?”
    “Most times. You project a bit, but I won’t look unless it’s necessary.” Ethan moved toward her, and his focus shifted to the right. “You can also use these, Charlie. The spell will close off this room, give you time alone when you need it.”
    She turned. His long fingers were tracing the symbols on the door frame. He was so close she could feel the warmth of him.
    “We’ll key it with my blood, however, so I’ll be able to come in if I need to.” He met her eyes. “But I won’t, unless there’s trouble.”
    This time, his words didn’t feel like a rejection—just reassurance that he wouldn’t invade her privacy. “All right.” She shifted her weight, glanced around the room again. “I guess that’s it, then.”
    “I reckon so.” The drops of his blood glistened crimson against the pale yellow paint. “You need anything, you come and get me.”
    “I will.”
    He nodded once. The crooked smile tilted his lips. “Good night, Miss Charlie.”
    Good night, Ethan. The familiar response poised on her tongue, but the weight of the evening held it there.
    Nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same again, and she couldn’t be dependent on what used to be.
    She crossed her arms over her chest, hugged herself tight. “Good night, Drifter.”

CHAPTER 9
    He’d built a right solid wall between them again. Ethan spent the next couple of hours thumbing through Billy Budd , but he had read it almost to pieces in the eighty years since Castleford had brought the novella to Caelum, and he didn’t look at the words so much as contemplate all of the reasons he shouldn’t tear the wall down.
    That he couldn’t come up with many was likely an indication of how fuzzy he was getting.
    Dawn had come and the sun lifting well into the sky when he broke the spell around the house. He breathed slow and long until the flood of sounds and psyches faded to a hum.
    Charlie still hadn’t come down when the click of heels on the deck outside