West of Want (Hearts of the Anemoi) (7 page)

She threaded through the house and paused at the closed door to her bedroom. After hesitating for a moment, she gingerly turned the knob and pushed the door, wincing as it squeaked.

Ella moaned under her breath at the image that appeared on the other side.

Zephyros was sprawled on his stomach across more than half the bed, his massive shoulders and arms curled around a mound of pillows. Even in rest, his thick muscles appeared ready to spring.

She tiptoed closer, holding her breath as the floorboards creaked here and there.

In sleep, the harsh contours of his face relaxed, casting a peacefulness over his features that wasn’t there when he was awake. That he apparently carried around some heavy unnamed burden made her heart squeeze. Sleep provided escape for her, too—when she could manage to quiet her heart and mind enough to actually nod off.

Standing there in the cool stillness of her room, her own exhaustion reared its head and demanded she cave in to the desire to rest. The urge to join Zeph in bed gripped her. Ridiculous. She padded over to a laundry basket near her dresser and chose clean clothes from the folded pile. With one last look at her mysterious guest, she slipped back out into the hall.

A shower would revive her. Plus, it had the added benefit of not landing her in bed with a total stranger. At least she thought that was a good thing.

Plopping her clothes on the bathroom counter, Ella peered in the mirror and confirmed her earlier impression from the toaster. She was healed. Totally and completely. The hair on her arms raised and she shivered. What he’d done…it was a miracle. Truly. What else would you call it?

Ella reached into the shower and adjusted the water. The house was old, and it took forever for the hot water to come up, so she’d need to let the shower run for a while before she could get in. As she waited, one question repeated itself in her mind:
How?
How had he healed her? How was something like that even possible?

After a few minutes, a thin mist of steam told her the shower was probably warm enough. She grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled.

A knock sounded at the front door. Hard and insistent.

Ella frowned. Who could that be?

The doorbell rang once, twice, adding to the ruckus.

Damn. She tugged her shirt back into place and dashed downstairs. She didn’t want anything to awaken Zeph.

In bare feet, she skidded to the front door and opened it.

All the breath whooshed out of her.

The man on the other side was enormous, big as Zeph, but dark. Spiky, dark charcoal-gray hair. Wraparound black sunglasses that didn’t offer even the slightest glimpse of the eyes behind the lenses. A fierce, harsh mouth, beautiful but cruel. Black leather gloves and a black leather coat so long it swept over a pair of gleaming black leather shoes.

“Hello,” he said, voice full of amusement.

Ella blinked and shook her head. “Uh, hi. Sorry.” A cutting breeze ruffled her hair, raising gooseflesh down the back of her neck. “Um, can I help you?”

His smile did nothing to put her at ease. “Is this the Smith residence?”

The words wrapped around her throat, making it hard to breathe. Ella’s knuckles ached from gripping the edge of the door so tightly. There was nothing overtly threatening about him. He smiled. He maintained a socially appropriate distance. His posture seemed relaxed, easy. Still, her fight-or-flight instinct was making all kinds of noise in her mind. “Um, no. I’m sorry.” She swallowed, trying to find a bit of moisture in her suddenly dry mouth.

“Bill and Linda? They don’t live here?”

The most primitive part of her brain screamed for her to get the hell away. She fought the urge to slam the door shut and pile every piece of living room furniture against it. “No. I don’t recognize those names.” She gripped the door harder and narrowed the opening.

One corner of his mouth quirked higher, then he gave a small bow. “Oh, well, then I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

“It’s okay,” she said, stomach turning. “Good luck finding them.”

“Luck.” He shook his head and chuckled. The sound crawled over her skin. “Aren’t you precious.” The words seemed full of an innuendo she couldn’t understand, but then he turned for the steps, the leather coat billowing out behind him. A cold gust of wind swirled around her, seemed to play with her hair, caress her skin. She shuddered, flooded with relief to see him leaving.

Jesus. What the hell was that?

With him gone, the air was almost easier to breathe. Ella didn’t realize how scared she’d been—after all, he’d been perfectly polite. But as she watched him start down her street toward the main part of Eastport, her heart sprinted in her chest until cold prickles broke out all over her scalp.

Hands shaking, she closed the door and locked it, throwing the dead bolt for good measure.

Zephyros came flying into the room, still half undressed from his nap.

Ella screamed and fell back against the door, her arms braced in front of her as if warding off an attack. She blinked up at Zeph, who stood right in front of her, towering over her.

“Who was here?” he growled.

Ella gulped air. Her mouth fell open, but she couldn’t manage a response. Her brain struggled to catch up.

He grasped her arms and squeezed. “Ella, who was here?”

“I…I don’t…” She shook her head. What was wrong with her? Her body was acting like she’d just barely escaped an accident.

“What did he look like?”

She frowned. “He…he…”

“Damn it all to Hades.” His hands slipped up over her shoulders to cup her face. “Take a deep breath. Come now.”

Ella sucked in a halting breath.

“Again.”

She did.

“Focus on my breathing, Ella. Breathe with me.”

Her gaze dropped to the bare, broad chest right in front of her, noted the soft rise and fall of the taut muscles. After a few moments, she calmed.

“Look at me,” he said quietly.

Her eyes flashed to his. The anger of a moment ago remained, but his expression was mostly one of concern.

“Tall? Salt and pepper hair? Dark glasses? Melodramatic leather duster?”

Apparently the incessant knocking had woken him, after all. He described the man to a T. “Yes.”

The next thing she knew, she was pressed against his chest, his arms strapped tightly around her. Words in a language Ella had never heard spilled from his lips. They started out sounding like a prayer, but ended with the biting tone of a curse.

First, he needed to make sure Ella was really okay.

He buried his face in her hair and breathed in her natural, feminine scent. She was safe. Warm and unharmed and alive in his arms.

Her incredible calming aura, the one that brought him such unusual peace and comfort, was gone, revealing that her body recognized the threat even if her mind didn’t. Even without the balm of her unique energy, Zeph was attracted and interested. He didn’t want to just take from her, he wanted to give in return. Undeniably, there was some connection between them, and he found himself flirting with the most dangerous emotion there was—hope.

Ella’s heart thumped against his abdomen, proof of life. He squeezed her against him, needing to feel every beat. He knew he’d surprised her when he’d tugged her into his embrace, but he couldn’t hold back, couldn’t staunch the relief coursing through him. And holding her was the only thing keeping him from hunting his brother down, destroying him where he stood—or die trying.

Slowly, Ella’s arms raised and curled around his lower back. Her hug was full of comfort and reassurance. A moment ago, he’d been trying to calm her. With her touch, it felt like she was trying to ease him. As her focus apparently shifted to his well-being, her peaceful aura returned and slowly wrapped itself around him. His heart expanded in his chest. Between his legs, his erection stirred.

Gods
. What was it about this woman?

He held her one last minute, absorbing everything about the feel of her in his arms, then stepped back. He didn’t want his body’s reaction to scare her. Still, he kept his hands on her arms, unable to release her entirely.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glassy. “Are you all right?”

He closed his eyes and centered himself. By the gods, she said the damnedest things—things that went right to the heart of him, that landed like a salve on the long-damaged parts of his psyche.

“Are you?” he managed. He opened his eyes, needing to see what he knew to be true.

“Yes.”

He released a deep breath. “Then so am I.”

She nodded, licked her lips. “Zephyros, who was that?”

It was probably too late, given his reaction, but he didn’t want to alarm her further with the details, especially as he hadn’t yet shared those about himself. “My brother,” he said simply.

Her eyebrow arched. “Your brother? But…but how…”

“I don’t know what he was doing here. But I intend to find out. Later. For now, I’d just like to stay close to you.”

“Okay. I’d like that, too.” She reached up and rubbed her arms, her fingers brushing his at the top of her biceps. She looked across the room and her eyes went wide. “Oh, shit.”

He tensed. “What?”

“Nothing to worry about.” She patted his chest, the touch full of calming warmth again. “Just realized I left the shower running all this time.”

Zeph looked over his shoulder, the rush of water through the house’s plumbing clearly audible now that he wasn’t preoccupied. His muscles relaxed. He released Ella and stepped out of her way.

“Now that you’re up, I’ll just go shut it off.” She smiled at him as she rounded the love seat, then tripped over the edge of the living room carpet and only stayed upright by bracing against the entertainment center. “Oof. Damn.” Her face was pink when she glanced back, clearly checking to see if he’d witnessed her. Zeph frowned as she disappeared into the hallway and started up the stairs.

Thumps sounded from the top of the steps.

“Ow! Ow!”

Zeph’s stomach clenched, and he reappeared at Ella’s side. She was curled on the floor, sitting on the top step, clutching her left foot. He knelt down, his eyes trained on the trickle of blood pooling at the corner of her big toenail.

“What happened?” he asked in a quiet voice.

She pouted and chuckled. “Tripped and stubbed my toe. I’m not normally this much of a clutz. Ow.”

He held back a growl, suspicion blooming. “Here. Let me see.” He pushed the leg of her sweatpants up the strong curve of her calf, out of the way of his exploration. Her skin set his fingertips to tingling. Forcing himself to focus, it became clear something jagged had taken a small chunk out of her big toe.

Shaking her head, she gingerly prodded the skin above the toenail. The flow of blood already slowed. “I’ve never understood why something so small hurts so bad. Seems like a design flaw to me.” She gave him a shy smile.

Zeph met her gaze, held it. “I don’t see a single, solitary flaw.”

Blushing, she ducked her head.

He rose, and helped her up. She limped into the bathroom. Wary, he followed her to the doorway, the steam hanging thick in the air, way warmer than what was comfortable for him.

She grabbed a tissue and blotted the blood from her toe, then reached into the stall. Hissing, she yanked her hand back without turning the water off. “Damn. How did that get so hot?” She sucked her fingers into her mouth.

In an instant, suspicion morphed into certainty. Zephyros’s soul filled with a roiling desire for vengeance against Eurus, who clearly was toying with Ella. No one had this much bad luck all at once. Except after meeting his brother. Then one’s chance of misfortune skyrocketed, especially if Eurus was in a mood. And when wasn’t he?

Gods, this was his fault. He’d lingered, he’d stayed, he’d healed her. And now Eurus knew about Ella, probably suspected Zeph cared for her, which put the beautiful woman before him between a rock and a hard place, between the East and the West. His brother enjoyed nothing more than taking away the things Zeph cared about. One by one. Slowly but surely.

With family like that, who needed enemies?

“I need to ask you something, Ella.” Even to himself, Zeph’s voice sounded deep, strained.

Her narrowed gaze cut to his. “Okay.”

“When he left, did you feel a gust of wind?”

Her brow slashed downward, wary. “Well, yeah, but—”

“Damn it. He marked you.” Why did he have to know his brother so well?

She folded her arms around herself. “Marked? Meaning?”

Zeph sucked in the cool air of the hallway, then stepped into the steamy room. “My brother’s calling card is unluckiness. I know how that sounds, but he, well—”

She tilted her head. “He’s like you.”

“No!”

Ella gasped and retreated one step, another. “I only meant—”

Zeph rushed to her, rubbed her shoulders. Dropped his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I know what you meant. It’s just, I am many things, and far from perfect. But where my brother takes pleasure in others’ pain, finds amusement in causing chaos, I prize life, Ella. I value goodness.” He let out a long breath, aching for her to recognize the goodness in him.

For a long moment, she held his stare. She spoke quietly, carefully. “I can tell, Zephyros. You are a good person. I can almost feel it coming out of you, the way you care, the way you bear the weight of responsibility.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if that’s the right way to say it, but I…I like the way I feel when I’m around you. It’s just”—she clenched her eyes shut and shuddered—“your brother…your brother totally creeped me out.” She opened her eyes and shrugged. “Sorry.”