White Hot Kiss. Jennifer L. Armentrout
I dug in my heels as he started forward. “I’m not checking anything out with you.”
“But there’s a zombie in the school,” he said slowly, “and it’s probably hungry.”
“And yeah, I know this, but you and I aren’t doing anything.”
His smile faded. “Aren’t you at all curious why a zombie would be in your school and what people are going to think when they see something straight from Night of the Living Dead?”
I met his stare. “It’s not my problem.”
“It’s not.” Roth tipped his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “But it will be the Warden leader’s problem when it stumbles upstairs and starts oozing bodily fluids all over everyone while it chomps on body parts. You know how those Alphas expect the Wardens to keep the whole demon thing out of the public eye.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped. Dammit. He was right. If that thing made its way upstairs, Abbot would be in a world of trouble. Yet still I stalled. “How do I know you aren’t going to throw me at it?”
Roth arched a brow. “Hey, I didn’t abandon you to the Seeker, now did I?”
“That doesn’t reassure me.”
He rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
I laughed. His head snapped in my direction, eyes slightly wide. “Trust you? A demon? Are you on crack or something?”
His eyes glimmered with...what? Annoyance or amusement? “Crack is whack.”
I pressed my lips together tightly, stopping the smile before it could spread across my face and give him the wrong idea. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
He tipped his chin up. “It’s true. No drugs while on the job. Even Hell has its guidelines.”
“What is your job exactly?” I asked.
“To deflower you in the back of the most expensive car ever made.”
I tried to jerk my hand back, but he held on. “Let go.”
“Christ on a crutch.” He chuckled deeply. “I was just joking, you prude.”
Now I flushed again, because I did feel like a prude. A natural feeling when I’d never kissed a guy before. “Let go of my hand.”
Roth heaved a long sigh. “Look. I’m so—I’m sor...” He took a deep breath, trying again. “I’m sorr...”
I turned my head toward him, waiting. “You’re what? Sorry?”
He looked chagrined, lips pursed. “I’m...sorr-ree.”
“Oh, give me a break. You can’t say I’m sorry?”
“No.” He looked me straight on, serious. “It’s not in a demon’s vocab.”
“That’s rich.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t even bother trying to say it if you don’t mean it.”
Roth appeared to consider that. “Deal.”
A door across from the gym opened. Assistant Principal McKenzie stepped into the hallway, his drab brown suit at least two sizes too small for his potbelly. He immediately frowned and gained two chins when he spotted us.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in gym, Ms. Shaw, and not in the hallway?” he said, loosening the stretched-out belt around his pants. “You may be mixed up with those things, but that doesn’t give you extra privileges.”
Mixed up with those things? They weren’t things. They were Wardens, and they kept ungrateful asses like McKenzie safe. My fingers reflexively squeezed Roth’s as anger and a little sadness flooded me.
These people had no clue.
Roth glanced at me, then at the assistant principal. He ducked his head, smiling demurely. Right then and there, I knew he was about to do something really bad.
Like demon-level bad.
And all I could do was brace for it.
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