Kill Me Softly

Chapter Three

I wake up in a tangle of limbs and blankets and, for a moment, everything is okay. There's no fear, no hate, to disturb me. I feel almost weightless. Then, all too soon, it all comes crashing down on me.

With a sigh, I sit up and find that I'd somehow managed to get underneath the covers last night, though I'd fallen asleep on top of them. Goosebumps appear on my skin when I throw back the covers and expose myself to the chilled morning air. I stand and the soft material of Ryder's t-shirt falls into place against my thighs, still smelling of warm spice.

Annoyed by how good it smells, I pull the t-shirt over my head and let it fall to the ground. I slip on a pair of black shorts and a loose grey tank top, figuring that I'll shower after a quick morning run to get my blood pumping. After all, if I'm going to escape Ryder, I'm going to have to be fast. Though, maybe I'll end up going with him. Where else do I have to go?

I shake my head.

Don't think about that now, I tell myself as I stick a toothbrush in my mouth. Focus on surviving today.

Once my mouth is minty fresh, I pack away my toothbrush and take a good look in the mirror. My dark curls are a mess, tangled together and poking out in every direction. I comb my fingers through it a few times, then give up and put it in a high ponytail. Now that that mess is out of my face, I can see the dark circles under my eyes and the scratches on my lips from biting them.

It's moments like this, before my succubus powers kick in, that I feel the most human. I can see how the world has affected me. It assures me that I'm not the robotic monster I'm suppose to be.

Then, of course, my powers wake up and, before my eyes, the scratches heal and the dark circles fade. Then I'm renewed once again, fresh and strong. Too bad my succubus charm doesn't work on scars, I think a little bitterly as I trace an old, thin scar along my collarbone. Little scratches and bruises? No problem. Deep cuts or broken bones? Not so much.

Sighing, I rub a hand over my face and move out of Ryder's bedroom, making my way into what must be the living room.

"Oh good," Ryder says, looking up from the shoe he's tying, "you're already dressed."

Frowning, I note that he's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white cutoff. There's a silver chain around his neck but whatever it holds is hidden beneath his shirt. He notices me looking and readjusts the collar of his shirt to conceal it better.

"I'm going for a run," I say slowly, eyeing the incubus as he leans over to tie his other shoe.

His long, inky black hair falls into his face as he looks up at me from under his lashes. Those icy blue eyes are piercing, seeming to look right through me. "No, we're going for a run. Your training starts now." He smiles with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Welcome to hell, darlin'."

My mouth drops open and Ryder smirks as I flounder for words. I snap my jaw shut and settle for a glare. Ryder shakes his head, snorting softly. My glares apparently need as much work as the rest of me. They'd never really worked on Ryder anyway. Even when I'd held a knife to his throat, he hadn't been intimidated. He would smile at me and his eyes would gleam almost as if he was proud of me or something ridiculous like that.

I look away and see that the couch has a pillow from the bedroom and a crumpled blanket thrown haphazardly upon it. Turning back to Ryder, whose hand rests on the handle to the front door, I ask, "did you sleep on the couch last night?"

A dark brow is raised in my direction. "I would've slept in my bed but it was occupied."

"Right," I mutter, a slight blush coloring my cheeks.