Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) (30 page)

I felt a little choked up seeing her so happy. "Wow, Izzy, that's so great."

A smile warmed her face. "Sounds like you've found Mr. Right too."

I wanted to say yes, but something about Tyler's mysterious brooding last night made me hesitate. "Maybe. We'll see."

"Uh-oh, there's my cautious Em peeking out again."

"You know I can't help it."

Isabel laughed. "I'm sure Tyler finds it adorable, when you give him that worried look."

"I have a worried look?"

"Yeah, you go cross-eyed and your face scrunches up."

I stuck out my tongue. "Bitch."

"Slut."

We burst into laughter.

Joe swung by to pick me up an hour later. I'd left my toiletries at Tyler's place so I could pack a weekend's worth of clothes into my bag. I had no idea what was on the agenda, but decided we could swing by my place should I need anything else.

"How are you doing?" I asked Joe as we waited at a red light.

"I'm well, Miss Glass."

"You can call me Emily."

He smiled. "Sorry. Protocol."

"Oh, bother. I really despise formalities."

"Comes with the territory." He pulled into the roundabout at the Gregorian. Tyler came out and opened the door for me.

"Hello, beautiful."

I felt a warm blush in my cheeks. "Hello, handsome."

He escorted me inside, taking me into the lift. I waited for him to press himself against me the moment the doors closed, but he looked pensive. Almost sad.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I decided to tell you everything."

"Oh?" The burning curiosity returned with a vengeance. "Does that mean I don't get a kiss?"

He turned, to me, one hand pulling my hair tight, exposing my throat. He kissed his way toward my mouth, each touch of his lips sending a tingle to my stomach. When he reached my lips, his tongue pressed inside, sending delicious chills across my body.

He released my hair. Our faces hovered inches apart.

"Was that what you wanted?" A smile spread across his lips.

"It's a good start."

The lift dinged and he opened the door to his little castle. Pink clouds slid across the horizon, lighting the park with a lovely glow.

Tyler grabbed some keys from a cabinet, and slid on a sport coat. "Hungry?"

I nodded, noting he wore jeans and a button-up—nothing too fancy. I hadn't worn a slinky dress this evening since my wardrobe was a bit thin on sexy wear, instead opting for jeans and a sweater. "Where to?"

"I know a place."

"I'm sure you do."

We took the lift down to a parking deck beneath the building lined with closed garage doors and a wide corridor between them. Tyler pressed his thumb against a reader next to one of the doors, and it slid up to reveal a sleek red vehicle.

"What is that?" I asked, resisting the urge to run my hand down the sharp lines.

"A Lamborghini Gallardo. It's one of my fun cars."

"It's gorgeous."

He pressed the handle, and the door pivoted up. When I slid inside, it felt as though I were almost sitting on the ground. Tyler shut the door and dropped into the driver seat. Inserted the key and the engine roared to life. The rumble vibrated from the seat and up my skin. His hand tightened around mine. Lifted my fingers to his mouth where he kissed each one.

I shivered. "If you're trying to turn me on, it's working."

He backed out the car and, instead of driving back to the main road, took a couple of back streets until we ended up on a winding road near a golf course. "Are you afraid of speed, Miss Glass?"

"I'm more afraid of the abrupt crashes," I replied dryly.

He gave me a wicked grin and hit the gas. The car roared and leapt forward, sticking to the curves as if it were on rails. The bolsters on the seat kept me firmly in place, and I caught myself shrieking with terror and delight. He reached the end of the road and slowed, pulling back onto a main thoroughfare and rejoining traffic.

A grin split his face. "I love this car."

"It definitely has its uses," I said, crossing my legs tight as my adrenalin rush pooled in a hot spot low in my abdomen. I suddenly wished I had on a skirt. It would be so easy for him to reach over and—

Emily Glass, what in the world has gotten into you?

Oh, sod off, you ninny!

I knew I had it bad when I fought with my own internal monologue.

Tyler pulled into a parking lot where a valet handed him a ticket, a delighted look in the young man's eyes as he hopped into the cockpit of the beast and roared off. Tyler didn't seem the least bit concerned. In fact, his attention seemed to have wandered back toward whatever was eating him.

The restaurant had all sorts of interesting tacos, and even more importantly, margaritas. We placed our order at the counter and grabbed a table.

"When are you going to tell me?" I asked. My curiosity was rapidly progressing toward worry and fear. Anything that made him this moody couldn't be good.

"After we eat." He smiled and covered my hand in his on the table. "I just want to enjoy every minute I can with you beforehand."

"You talk as if this is our last bloody meal." I felt my gaze harden. "Why won't you just tell me?"

"Because once you know, you probably won't want to see me anymore."

I pulled my hand from beneath his. Crossed my arms and gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "Your attitude certainly isn't helping. What could possibly be so bad?" I thought back to his desire to tie me up and blindfold me. My face must have gone white, because my skin suddenly went quite cool. "Oh lord. Are you into sexual perversions?"

He looked shocked. "No. Well, I mean, I like some spice, and I'm always willing to experiment, but I'm not into nasty stuff like golden showers or torture." He leaned forward. "And no, that's not my big secret. I don't have a red room of pain if that's what you're worried about."

I took a long drink of my margarita, feeling the salty tang sting my lip where he'd bitten it earlier. The pain felt oddly delicious.

"The look on your face makes me want to bend you over this table and have my way with you, Emily." Tyler's eyes burned with dark tension.

I felt his hand tighten on my thigh. Felt my body respond to his touch with heat and cold tingles even through the jeans. A smile spread across my face. "Oh, would you, Tyler?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

I bit my lip and squirmed with need. Despite the happy family one table over and the other various groups enjoying their evening at the taqueria, I could almost envision letting him have his way with me. "You're killing me," I said.

"We can get the car."

"But our food—"

"Fuck the food." His voice was a low growl. "I'd rather eat you any day."

Oh dear.
My face burned. "Tyler, you really are too much sometimes."

"You make me feel insatiable, Emily. I take you, and still I want more." He took my hand and bit my index finger.

I laughed. "Tyler, there are children here!"

"Good. Maybe they'll learn something."

I pulled my hand away with some regret. "Let's eat. Then you can tell me your big secret."

His lips screwed up for a moment before flat lining. "Yeah."

We ate in silence as Tyler's dark mood returned. He gave the valet a huge tip, and took my hand to help me inside the car. I could have gotten in myself, but would have used any excuse to feel the electric tingle of his touch.

He drove back at a slow pace, eyes locked on the road, his mouth set in a grim line. My stomach knotted as I watched him. What could possibly be worse than having a sexual torture room? Surely he hadn't killed someone, or had a criminal past, had he?

"This silence is pissing me off," I said, unable to restrain it any longer. "What the hell is going on, Tyler?"

"Wait until we get home, Emily. Please." The tone of his voice indicated he wasn't asking for permission.

With great effort, I kept my mouth shut, preventing the rude retaliation on the tip of my tongue from bursting forth.

He parked the car and we rode the lift back to the penthouse. My stomach roiled, and I felt nauseated with worry. Tyler's face grew pale as the lift reached the top. He looked at me, his green eyes filled with worry, or perhaps sadness.

"What is it?" I said, my voice sounding frantic to my ears. "Tell me right this instant, or so help me I'll leave."

He nodded, and walked into the kitchen. Grabbed a bottle of amber liquid, and poured himself a glass. "You want anything?"

I shook my head angrily, though another margarita wouldn't be amiss. I needed something to calm my nerves. "Just tell me whatever you're going to tell me and get it over with."

He tossed back the contents of the glass. Set it down on the counter and took a seat at the kitchen table. "How did you feel about Thomas Jones?"

I dropped into a chair, a sense of relief flooding into me. He somehow knew about me and Thomas, apparently. "I really liked him for a while and then he just...changed."

"But you really liked him."

I nodded. "There was something about him. I couldn't put a finger on it, but, it was sexy. And then he hit his head and turned into an ass."

"What if I told you that man wasn't him?"

My brow wrinkled. "Is he a schizo?"

"No. Well, not exactly."

"How do you know so much about him?" My relief was turning into a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. I couldn't see where this was leading.

"I
was
Thomas."

A laugh escaped my throat. "You're making no sense now."

"The karaoke, the dance lessons, the coffee, the little office with the plushy pens—it was me."

My chair fell over backwards as I bolted to my feet. "You made Thomas Jones do all that? What the bloody hell, Tyler? What the fuck?"

He stood, waving his hands palms out. "No, it wasn't like that at all. Emily, listen to me." His strong hands grabbed my shoulders, and his green eyes met mine. And with a sudden dawning realization, I realized something that just couldn't be.

The man was different. The color of his eyes was slightly different. But the soul behind that gaze was, without a doubt, the very same that had looked out at me from another man.

From Thomas Jones.

Chapter 27

The vibes I'd felt from him had felt so familiar and yet the emotional attachment had overwhelmed my extra sense. I felt my mouth drop and hang. "Wh—what's going on Tyler?" My knees went weak.

Tyler flipped the chair off the floor with one foot and guided me into it. "I was Thomas Jones, Emily. Now I'm Tyler Rock."

"That doesn't make any sense. Did you have plastic surgery?" That obviously made even less sense. I gripped his hand and pulled myself to my feet, running my hands along the perfect angles of his face, his lovely lips, the dark stormy eyebrows above his sea-green eyes. There was no possible way a plastic surgeon could have done this. He was too beautiful to be manmade.

"I know it's hard to understand," Tyler said, kissing my hands, my wrists. He groaned. "Please sit. It's easier if I show you."

I complied, my body trembling with fear and apprehension. My teeth chattered for an instant before I clamped my jaw shut. Tyler turned off the lights, casting the room in shadows borne by the light of the city skyline.

"What are you doing?" I asked, the fear growing in me at the sudden darkness.

"Everything will be okay," said his disembodied voice from several feet away.

Oh, God, please don't let him be a psycho killer.

I fumbled in my purse for the pepper spray since the stun gun had been an utter flop on two occasions. Flipped the safety off, and prepared for anything. A faint glow appeared across the kitchen, growing brighter by the second. My pepper spray and purse tumbled to the floor from numb fingers as I realized the source of the glow.

Tyler, naked from the waist up, eyes clenched shut, arms outstretched as if in supplication, stood in the middle of the kitchen, and his skin was
glowing.
The glow was like an emerald nimbus surrounding every inch of his exposed skin. Common sense finally kicked in, and I realized this had to be some sick joke.

"What is that, glowing paint?" Anger burned away the fear. What in the world was this man trying to do to me? Give me a heart attack? Or was he just plain crazy?

Tyler's eyes opened, and I shrieked. Deep within the irises, I could clearly see green flames. The hue of the glow around his skin changed to the color of his eyes, flickering and licking the air like tongues of flame.

"Emily, this isn't a trick." His voice was deeper, richer, with an otherworldly quality to it that penetrated to my very center. He continued. "I'm sorry to have to shock you like this, but I have no choice. I absolutely have to give you the truth in case—in case
they
catch up to me again."

"Who are you talking about?" I said, my feet backing me away from the flickering figure in the kitchen.

"Those people who chased us that night when I was Thomas. They aren't the police. They're not the FBI. They aren't a part of any mortal authority you're familiar with." He lowered his hands, his flaming eyes looking sadder than I ever thought possible. "They're called Exorcists."

"
Exorcists
?" My lips peeled back in a grimace. "Of course I've heard of exorcists. They work for the Catholic Church."

"Not these kind."

"And besides," I said, confusion scattering my thoughts. "Don't they go after—" My eyes went wide with shock at the word that came to my lips.

"Demons." He sighed. "My true self can't live in the mortal world, Emily. Tyler was going to kill himself, so I made a bargain with him. He agreed."

Terror wormed its way up my stomach. I felt the wall press against my back as my feet continued their retreat. "If you're pulling a trick on me, it stopped being funny long ago." I saw my purse and the pepper spray next to it on the floor. Tyler still stood in the same spot. I dove for the spray, snatching it from the floor and pointing it at him from my position on my knees. "End this joke now, Tyler, or I swear to God I'll spray you in the eyeballs."