The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel Book 1)(24)

He could lie and say he needed to make up with his girlfriend, but that would mean crossing the metal framing between first class and coach. It would weaken him and leave Caly vulnerable. It was hard enough to sit in the tin can. Getting on and off drained him more than he wanted to admit. Even now, the metal seeped into him like slow poison. Moving around would be torture.

The little twit knew she was beyond his reach. He was tempted to do it anyway to see how she reacted, but teaching her a lesson wasn't worth the cost of her life.

Neck craned, he caught a glimpse of Caly's cinnamon brown hair only infrequently. Not often enough to suit him. Through the parted curtain, he saw a man reach across the aisle and touch her arm. Fury ripped through him at the man's audacity. As Caly turned, he waited for her to blast the man.

Instead, she smiled. When she leaned closer, the curtain between the compartments closed. The blonde continued to babble to him every time she passed, but Ruman didn't hear anything above the pounding fury of his blood.

Pain radiated from his hands, and he glanced down to see the heavy plastic of the armrest ooze between his fingers. All to prevent himself from ripping the guy's head off. Breathing the tin-tasting recycled air did nothing to soothe his nerves.

By conscious effort, he loosened his hold, idly contemplating crossing the barrier between the two classes, almost wishing for the pain just to be able to smash the man to smithereens. Physical agony would distract him from the violent emotions that roared inside him.

No one touched Caly except for him. Especially not some unwashed, skinny human. The only thing preventing him was the thought of her wandering around alone while he recuperated. Somehow, he didn't think she would remain where he put her.

* * *

"Enjoy your stay."

The stewardess who'd remained at Ruman's side the whole trip waved and winked at him. Really, you'd think she'd have more to do then cater to one passenger. Every time Caly stood to return to her seat, the woman would be there offering Ruman a pillow or blanket. It sickened her to watch some other woman touch him. On the fourth round, Caly knew she couldn't stomach being seated next to him, watching him romance another woman. Every time a roguish smile came to Ruman's lips, she wanted to rip out his throat.                       
       
           



       

The man had enough blankets and pillows to start his own harem. The ass professed to accompany her on the trip to keep her safe. Instead, he sat in first class, flirting the whole way across the Atlantic.

She'd thought when the dirt bag with bad breath reached for her, he'd come to her rescue. The college kids with him were determined to have a good time, and she was the entertainment. She nearly crushed his hand when he tried to touch her. That shut them up for a while until they grew a pair of balls between the three of them and tried flirting again.

And he'd been too busy with her to even spot the potential for trouble. Caly admitted she could've excused herself and returned to her seat, but she needed a little breathing room past the attraction that had her twisted up in knots.

But apparently the attraction wasn't as mutual as she'd thought. No doubt if she searched his pockets, she'd find the blonde's number.

It was better this way she told herself, but the reassurance felt hollow.

At the terminal, she claimed her weapons, more than ready to leave this place. Arms laden, she walked to the exit, eager to feel the early pre-dawn air on her flesh, purposely ignoring Ruman as he sulked a pace behind her.

Only to come to a stop at the exit. She tightened her lips then shifted her bundles to reach for the door. She'd bet he'd open the door for the blonde.

"Need help?" His query held no inflection of any kind.

Her muscles quivered under the strain of the bags. She cast a narrow look at him and bit back a snarl. "No, thanks. I think I have it now." At his answering shrug, she barely resisted the urge to slap him upside the head.

While they waited for a taxi, she let go of her burdens. Sitting on her large weapon case, she studied the man next to her. Since the plane, his attitude had changed from overprotective to the complete opposite. She resisted the urge to check her pulse to make sure she hadn't dropped dead. She hated to admit it, but she preferred the fire to this indifference.

The ride to the hotel was uneventful. A twinge went through her as she looked out the window, regretting not being able to see Cairo come alive during the day. Thankfully, they arrived at the hotel quickly. She didn't know how much more of the stifling silence she could take. In the lobby, Caly signed the register.

Ruman maintained his distance. Even now, his back toward her, he studied the paintings on the walls instead of standing next to her. She discreetly sniffed herself but detected no odor.

"Here you go, Miss." The young man handed over her keycards, and she smiled wanly in return.

"Thank you." Not willing to let her weapons out of her sight, Caly refused the bellhop service and struggled on her own. The elevators doors were a glossy brass, the high shine reflecting the background. To distract herself from the tight space to come, she watched the people move about the city, refusing to acknowledge the way her pulse pounded by just standing near the blasted lift.

Ruman joined her. When the doors opened, he lifted her case as easy as that, and waited for her to enter. Caly paused then nodded slightly, too exhausted to argue and too leery of the cramped quarters to fight. "Thank you."

It was one thing to carry extra equipment on your person, it was quite another to lug around a seventy-pound pack. The ride up seemed to take hours but was probably only seconds.

On the third floor, as soon as the door opened, she all but spilled out into the hallway, greedily sucking in air as unobtrusively as possible as she escaped the metal coffin.

They walked down the hallway decorated with muted brown carpeting and beige walls. The decor described her feelings perfectly. As soon as she expected something from someone else, she always received the shaft. She should've known better than to expect more by now.

She handed him a card key to the connecting suite. "You're next door."

He hesitated like he would say something, but instead, set down her case and left without a word. The door latched behind him with a finality that made her heart ache.

What else did she expect? That he would pursue her? They both knew that'd be impossible. But a part of her mind whispered it would've been worth it. She rested her forehead against the cool oak door and took a deep breath, then straightened. "This is a job."

The mumbled words didn't help. She unlocked her door and stepped forward. Ruman had the connecting doors open, searching her room as if expecting her pillows to attack her.

To avoid an argument, Caly set down her cases and went to the balcony. The walls closed around her, his cold silence stealing the air. She needed space. Her hand barely touched the knob when Ruman grabbed her arm.

It was too much. "Get your hands off me." A snarl curled her lips and the darkness balled in her gut stirred, eager for a fight and the opportunity to teach this demon his place.                       
       
           



       

He paused then deliberately loosened his hold, taking his own pretty little time. The bastard.

"These stay shut."

Caly opened her mouth but before she could say a word, he walked off. Indignant at his callous attitude, she followed him. "Wait a minute, Caesar, who made you the ruler?"

He spun so fast, Caly just missed plowing into him. He gripped her upper arms and shook her with enough force that her head snapped back. "Listen here, you little brat."

"Of all the nerve. I don't know what your problem is bucko, but-"

Instead of hollering, he picked her up off the floor.

"Hey!" Feet dangling, she met his gaze. "Put. Me. Down." She spit out the words between gritted teeth. Only a man would try to use his strength to win an argument.

"It's my job to keep you alive. If you don't like it, or if it's too much of an imposition, tough. Get used to it."

He barked the words at her like he'd earned the right to say them. She'd spent every day of her life battling to stay alive. She didn't need him to step in and try to take over.

His lips tightened in anger. "Don't ever, purposely, leave my sight again." He pulled her closer, anger burning in his eyes. "You won't like the consequences."

Caly looked down at him, furious at being treated as a means to an end and not as a person, a desirable woman. "Release me."

His eyes narrowed, his smile became more predatory. "Not until I have your word that you'll listen."

"I'll listen, but I don't have to obey, demon."

The taunt shoved him to the edge of his control, and she bit her lip, wondering if she pushed him too far. His fingers tightened, his eyes darkened. "Your word or we'll stay like this all day." He casually shifted her closer, unaffected by anything but his own anger. "I'm part demon. A guardian statue. One touch of sunlight and I turn back into a statue until nightfall."