Page 46 of White Hot Kiss

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Page 46 of White Hot Kiss

I tried to keep my expression blank as we stopped at another busy intersection. “Do you come here often?”

“More than I should.”

“What does that mean?” I tilted my head back, meeting his intense stare.

“It’s...real up here.” He placed his hand on the small of my back, and the weight burned through my thin sweater in the most...unusually delicious way as he guided me across the street. “So, when did you start tagging?”

I chewed on my lip, unsure of how much I should tell him. “I was thirteen when I started.”

His brows furrowed. “It took them that long to realize you could do it?”

“No. After they...found me, they knew I could see souls. I guess I’d babbled about seeing their souls or something. It was an accident that anyone even knew I could tag demons.”

“What happened?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“I think I was ten or something, and I was with one of the Wardens,” I said. “We were getting something to eat. I saw a person who didn’t have an aura and I brushed against her in line. It was like flipping a switch. No one else seemed to notice but the Warden.”

“And the rest is history?” Roth sounded smug. “The Wardens find a half demon who can see souls and tag demons. Sounds kind of convenient to me.”

“I don’t know what you mean by it being convenient. I am a Warden, too, you know.”

He looked at me. “You can’t tell me you never seriously considered that the reason they keep you around is because of what you can do.”

“And the reason you’re interested in me has nothing to do with what I can do?” I quipped, feeling rather bold and proud.

“Of course I’m interested in you because of what you do,” he replied casually. “I’ve never pretended otherwise.”

I sidestepped a group of kids my age. The girls dressed in short skirts and lacy kneesocks rubbernecked Roth. “They didn’t know what I could do when they found me, Roth. So stop trying to make them sound like they’re the bad guys.”

“I like when people try to classify things into good and bad, as if everything is that clear-cut.”

“It is that clear-cut. Your kind is bad. The Wardens are good.” My response sounded flat. “They are good.”

He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to fall haphazardly across his forehead. “And why do you think the Wardens are so good?”

“Their souls are pure, Roth. And they protect people from things like you.”

“People with the purest souls are capable of the greatest evils. No one is perfect, no matter what they are or what side they fight for.” Roth caught my hand, pulling me around a cluster of tourists with fanny packs. “One of these days I’m going to buy me one of those.”

The laugh came out before I could squelch it. “You’d look real sexy in a fanny pack.”

His smile warmed his face—warmed me. “I’d look sexy in just about anything.”

I laughed again, shaking my head. “You’re so modest.”

Roth winked. “Modesty belongs to losers. Something I am not.”

I shook my head, grinning. “I’d tell you that probably earned you a ticket to Hell, but you know...”

Roth tipped his head to the side, chuckling. “Yeah. Yeah. Do you know how many times people have told me to go to Hell?”

“I can only imagine.” I caught sight of the top of the Verizon Center.

“It never gets old,” Roth mused, smiling softly.

9

We turned onto F Street and I stepped closer to him, pointing across the road. “When I was little, I used to sit across from the performing-arts center and watch them through the windows. I wish I had a smidgen of their grace and talent. You should see me dance.”




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