Chapter 40 - Nephilim Home Turf

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The silence stretches between us for an eternity until he places a finger underneath my chin to bring my face up but I refuse to look at him. "Danica," he says, pinching my chin between his thumb and index finger. "Danica, look at me."

Something in the tone of his voice makes it hard for me to ignore his command and my eyes flick up on their own accord.

His long, dark, curly lashes frame the hazel eyes that now seem more golden than green. They're intense, staring into mine, and instead of pity, I see something else. Determination and anger. In fact, his anger is swirling around him, darker than before. Thankfully, his anger isn't directed at me this time. "I won't let that happen to you again. I won't let him or anyone else hurt you," he says, his jaw tight. "Do you hear me? I won't let anyone hurt you."

I nod even though I don't really know what that means and he wraps his arms around me, fierce, protective, and possessive. He's warm and strong and I sag against him.

I'm not fully convinced that it's as easy as Alistair had mentioned for me to be free of Astaroth but when I'm in Sacha's arms, I feel safe and protected. I don't feel alone.

I wrap my arms around him and I feel his storm calming down.

We hold on to each other for a long time- half an hour? An hour? I don't know, but even that doesn't seem long enough. However, when he lets go, something seems to be different about him. It's as though he's made up his mind about something.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he says, letting his arms slowly fall from around me. He takes my hand in his and twines our fingers together.

Leading me towards the door, he says, "To answer your question, this is not a sex room, princess." His eyes wander around the room for a little bit and he shakes his head. It's a beautiful room, but it is a bit over the top. "At least not that I know of. My friend owns the club and he spends too much time up here. His wife watches too many HGTV shows and she's in this decorating phase. Unfortunately, he's too whipped to stop her from doing...that." He indicates the room.

We both step out and I'm standing in the hallway while he pulls the door close when the sound of the bed creaking and the moaning start again in the room across from us. The corners of his firm mouth quirk up. "That would be them and maybe you're right. Maybe it was a sex room," he says. "By the way, we won't be stopping by to say thank you for letting us use the room or to say goodbye." He rolls his eyes upward. "Maybe next time."

Instead of going back to the club, we go through another way where we go down several steps of stairs that lead us straight toward an emergency door.

He opens the door and ushers me down a few concrete steps and I find myself on a small street at the back of the club. We're heading toward a grey Ferrari Roma that's sitting under a streetlight like a panther crouching low on the ground, ready to pounce. It's sleek and sexy, just like Sacha.

The engine purrs like a dream and I hope he'd let me drive it one day.

"Where are we going?" I ask him. He hasn't said a single word since we got in the car twenty minutes or so ago. "We're not going back to the penthouse, are we?" I'm positive that we're leaving the bright light of the city behind.

I turn my gaze back to him. "Sacha?" I don't know the area at all but it seems to me that we're heading out of the city.

He's deep in thought while his chin and jaw are set with determination. His eyes flicker off the road and stay on me for a beat before he takes my hand in his and says, "We're going back to my family home."

*****

This is the first time I see Sacha drives a car and he handles it with the efficiency and skill of a race car driver.

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