She searched the bathroom wall for the light switch. When light finally flared Darcy shielded her eyes with a hiss of pain. How long had she been out?
Shuffling to the sink, she made quick use of the hotel’s complimentary toothbrush and toiletries kit. Once she felt a little more alive she glanced in the mirror and winced. Her hair was dirty and matted. She didn’t even want to think about the pain of digging through those tangles. A greenish bruise marred one temple though she couldn’t even remember getting hit there. Continuing her inspection, she noted the claw marks on her calf were bruised and inflamed. The bite marks on her arm looked infected too. How would she explain those wounds to a doctor?
But at least she was alive.
Her fingers gripped the marble sink top. Jared really had saved the day.
She stepped back into the bedroom and noticed for the first time the soft carpet under her feet. He’d removed her shoes. A quick pat down revealed he’d stripped her of her knives, as well. Her coat hung in the corner but with the blood splattered over it she wouldn’t be able to wear it in public without a good cleaning first.
The urge to hide in the bedroom was strong but Darcy knew he’d be waiting. Gathering what courage she could, she opened the door.
She stumbled down a small hallway before emerging in the large room she dimly remembered seeing on her arrival. The open-concept living room blended into a kitchenette in the back. A flat screen bigger than any she’d seen lined one wall, a fireplace the other. Furniture that looked decorative if not comfortable was arranged artfully throughout the space. Bright pieces of art hung on every available wall, offsetting the beige and white tones of the room. It was a beautiful, stately chamber.
A dark shape at the side table drew her gaze. Jared stood with his back to her, pouring something red into a wineglass.
He swirled the liquid before raising the glass to his lips. Revulsion swept through her. Demons didn’t need blood every day but their bodies functioned better with a steady diet of it. It was one of the reasons the race was so hard to coexist with. Demons didn’t give a damn where their fix came from as long as their bodies were fed.
“Shall I pour you a glass?” His voice startled her. “Or would you prefer something else?” He turned to face her, the wineglass in his hand.
“No thanks,” she bit out.
He tilted his head to the side. “Tell me, hunter, what is it you think I am drinking?”
He was baiting her. Darcy lifted her chin and refused to let herself get drawn in.
His smile was cool as he crossed the room to her. As he neared, her instincts kicked into high gear, urging her to get away from any creature looking as lethal as he did.
Instead she held her ground, battered and bruised though she was. Her decision pleased him, it seemed, for his gaze warmed.
Stopping before her, he held out the glass. Darcy didn’t even glance at it.
Arching a brow, he raised it to his lips again. “Wine,” he murmured in her ear as he glided past her. “Nothing more sinister than that.”
Jared grabbed something off the table behind her before tossing it in her direction. She caught it automatically and her muscles protested the exertion.
“I’d offer you a glass,” Jared continued, walking to the large white sofa. “But I don’t think alcohol is what your body needs right now.”
Darcy looked down at the prescription package in her hand. Codeine. Her aching body begged her to slip one of the small white pills into her mouth.
“Thanks.” That the demon had thought of her comfort at all amazed her. “But I can’t.” She tossed the package back to him before she could yield to temptation.
Jared’s hand was a blur as he snatched the bag from the air.
“Why?” No anger colored his question.
Darcy sighed as she dropped into a sand-colored chair with a straight, uncomfortable back. It was as far from Jared as she could get. “I don’t use drugs.”
“Ever?”
She pressed her lips together. No way she was telling a demon her sob story.
“Had a problem, did you?”
“No.”
Though she might not know Jared well, she did recognize the look on his face. He wasn’t going to let this go. Well, tough luck. She didn’t feel like sharing.
“How long have I been out?”
“You slept approximately eight hours. Another three would have been prudent but we’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
“You put me to sleep.”
He inclined his head. “Would you have preferred staying conscious yet trapped in your own body with your mind spinning increasingly horrific possibilities for you to ponder? I did you a favor.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged. “I’m more concerned with how you did it. Fire, air, magic—you have too many gifts to be a simple demon minion.”