Page 65 of White Hot Kiss

I stared at the demonic furball as it licked its bloody claws, and then shifted my gaze to Roth. “I don’t understand.”

“Let’s just say that they weren’t always this cute and cuddly-looking. They can get pretty big when provoked, but even in this form, Hellhounds are afraid of them,” Roth said.

The white one jumped on the bed, stretched out little legs and yawned. It eyed me as if it wasn’t sure what I was doing there.

Roth caught my hand, bringing the finger the kitten had injured to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the blemished skin, surprising me once more. “You’re going to be fine.”

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again. “What...what am I going to do? I took a soul—a pure soul.”

Roth sat beside me. “It will be okay.”

A strangled laugh escaped me. “You don’t understand. I’m not allowed...to take souls. Not in any situation.”

“It’s not something to worry about right now,” he said firmly. “I’ll take care of it.”

I wanted to believe him so badly, but I couldn’t see how he could take care of anything. What had been done couldn’t be reversed.

Roth reached out, cupping the side of my jaw that didn’t feel like it was on fire. “This will all work out. It will.” There was a pause. “Look. You have a little visitor.”

I glanced down. The white kitten rubbed against my side, staring up at me with slanted blue eyes. I itched to pick it up and hold it close, but I valued my fingers. It went back to rubbing my hip, as if it dared me to pet it.

Emotion clogged my throat as I realized I hadn’t thanked him properly. “Why are you helping me? I mean, thank you—I can never thank you enough for coming when you did. I just...” I just didn’t understand how a demon could be the one to save me from a Warden.

He shrugged, dropping his hand. “I’m a lot of things, Layla. But even I have my limits.”

Silence fell between us, and Roth went back to cleaning up the rest of my wounds. He was good at this—taking care of someone. I doubted it was something he learned in Hell.

When he finished, he gave me a pair of his sweats and a shirt to wear. On the walk to his bathroom, I ached and felt awkward. In his bright bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My eyes seemed larger than normal, a brighter gray that bordered on looking wild. The right side of my jaw was already turning a deep purple. It matched the bruise forming just below my hairline. The skin had split there, but it didn’t look like I needed stitches. My lip looked like a Botox injection gone horribly wrong.

I shook off my clothes, wincing not just from the pain but from the sight of the blue and light violet splotches covering my shoulders and chest. Petr’s claw marks started under my throat, three deep slashes about four inches long. I quickly changed, unable to look at myself any longer.

Roth was at the window when I returned. He turned around and tried for a wolfish grin. “I always knew you’d look great in my pants.”

I hadn’t thought I’d laugh again, but I did then. It sounded weak. “That’s real original.”

He pushed off the wall and gestured at the closed door I’d noticed before. “I want to show you something. You think you’re up for it?”

Intrigued despite myself, I nodded. He opened the door and motioned me forward. I followed him up the narrow staircase. He stopped at a door and glanced over his shoulder. “Promise me you won’t walk off the ledge.”

I would’ve rolled my eyes if it wouldn’t have hurt. “I promise.”

He didn’t quite look like he believed me, but he opened the door. Cool air pulled me forward. I limped past him.

“Don’t walk off the rooftop. Please.” He followed behind me. “I wouldn’t want to scrape your remains off the pavement below.”

Soft, billowy white tents rolled in the perfumed breeze. Under them were several lounge chairs and small tables, but it was the neatly manicured flower garden that caught and held my attention. Vases of every size and shape lined the rooftop. I didn’t know most of the flowers, but I did see roses and lilies everywhere.

“Is this yours?” I asked.

“All of this is mine.”

I stopped by a large pot, running my fingers over the heavy petals. In the dark, I couldn’t tell if the flower was purple or red. But it smelled sweet and tangy. “You garden?”

“I get bored.” His breath danced off my cheek. “I find that it’s a viable way of passing time.”

I hadn’t heard him come up directly behind me. I turned around halfway, inclining my head. “A demon who gardens?”

One corner of his lips quirked. “I’ve seen crazier things.”