"So the dead witches…" Ava cleared her throat as she stared at Matthew sitting across her. She had been watching him eat for a few minutes now. Not a word was uttered between them.
She expected a formal environment where they would try to intimidate each other. A shifter and a witch, butting heads as they talked about the bloody and gory things. A Royalty and an officer throwing insults while smiling at each other.
It was only natural to do that.
It was normal.
Instead, what she got was a dinner with candlelights and classical music.
"Do you prefer to talk about dead bodies over dinner?" Matthew's smile deepened, he had been observing her with piercing intensity. He held a glass of wine and slowly twirled it, the scarlet liquid reflecting the soft lights from the candles. "I prefer to talk about it over wine."
She opened her mouth but stopped midway.
"It can wait… Ava." He motioned his wine glass in her direction, pointing at her. " Instead, I would like to talk about you."
There was something about him pronouncing her name so delicately. And she couldn't really find it in herself to hate it.
"Mr. Graydon, I don't think that is appropriate."
"What is not appropriate?"
She pursed her lips before she started slicing the steak. She wanted to act as normal as possible. She was well aware that she was failing at that too.
"Talking about a witch's personal life."
"Ah… My apologies."
She nodded and ate the steak. The wagyu steak melted in her mouth like butter. The meat was perfectly cooked, she was certain it was done by a professional chef. Did he prepare all this for this meeting?
"So… the dead bodies."
"Relentless," he smirked. "I seem to like it."
He leaned back, tapping a napkin on his lips. For a few seconds, she stared at his pink luscious lips and wondered if they might taste like the wine they were drinking.
Her eyes sprang back to him and she immediately felt another blush coming. He noticed her staring at his lips.
How embarrassing.
"I don't have any other choice Mr. Graydon," she started. "There are already four dead witches. It has to be the work of some shifters who still hate us."
For years, the shifters hunted the witches after the war. The treaty stopped this. But it didn't erase the hatred that the shifters felt towards the witches.
"I understand." Matthew nodded. "I will support you and the organization."
"With all due respect that is not enough."
"Then what would you want me to do Ava?"
For some reason she felt that the question had nothing to do with the witches. Her gaze strayed towards his lips, again.
"An all out investigation," she answered, moving her eyes away from those distractive lips.
"I can't do that."
"Then access to the identities of the shifters."
"I can't do that either."
"Then what can you do, Mr. Graydon?" she snapped. She already expected this. The hatred between witches and shifters was just too deep. She already expected that they would never cooperate. She narrowed her eyes at his amused expression.
"Let me think about it."
"Witches are dying, " she growled.
"Four witches are dead. That does not mean that witches are dying."
"Someone is killing witches, a serial killer."
"And you think it's a shifter?"
Anger surged inside her. "I know it's a shifter."
"Don't you think humans are capable of killing people too? Maybe even witches are killing their own. You can't just judge shifters, can you?"
"Humans wouldn't target witches, remove their eyes and cut their hands for no reason. They have no way of identifying witches. And I know magick when I see it, Mr. Graydon." She was fairly sure that shifters killed those witches. It wasn't just because of her hunch. It was because of something that she saw in one of her dreams.
However, she couldn't just reveal such information to anyone, especially to a Shifter.
"How sure are you, Ava?"
"What?" she frowned. Humans or at least the majority of them do not know about witches and shifters. All throughout the years, both witches and shifters have been doing their best to protect their identities. After all, humans are naturally curious and greedy being.
They would want to know more about the power the witches possess. Eventually curiosity would turn into greed and they would want to have what the witches and shifters have.
This isn't just basic conjecture as this has already happened in the past.
"How sure are you that humans couldn't identify witches? And how sure are you that witches would only use magick to harm another witch?"
"Humans found a way to identify witches?" she asked.
However, instead of answering her, Matthew leaned forward. "Do you want to work with me, Ava?"
"No." The answer came out almost immediately. She didn't even have the time to think about it. "I am here to catch the killer Mr. Graydon. I don't have the time to waste."
She got up. Suddenly, she felt the urge to leave.
She was trying her best to prevent a war between their kinds and Matthew was clearly trying to make her doubt her own judgment. Their goals were not the same.
"I would like you to do something for me," she put on her coat and started walking towards the door.
"What is it?"
"I want you to promise that you will not get involved in my investigations."
"Done."
This surprised her. She expected more questions from him. Ava expected the man to inquire about the evidence that she had.
But he just said, yes?
"In return… I want you to answer a question." He got up and closed his suit.
She stopped walking just a few feet away from the door.
"What is it?" she asked, turning to face him.
"Are you mating with someone?"
Stunned, she took a step back, widening the space between them. " Excuse me?"
"Ah…" A sigh left his lips. " Perhaps, I need to rephrase my question. Are you f*cking someone?"
She sucked in a quick breath, not knowing what to say. Anger reared itself in her head, mixing with unexpected desire. Sadly, desire was winning.
He lifted an eyebrow, and in the next instant, he was already standing in front of her body. Her instincts kicked in and she took a couple steps back until her back hit the wall.
The atmosphere froze, filled with something suffocating. The smell of chocolates and almonds rolled between them. Entranced, she thought she smelled the sweetness of the wine but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
"I don't think that is any of your business, Mr. Graydon." she made a sound of annoyance.
"Is it not?" His breath fractured, his eyes darkened with desire.
"No." Her lips quivered at her obvious denial. She mustered all the courage she could, hoping he wouldn't smell her arousal. She knew it was for naught.
His fingers lightly brushed her cheeks, then they trailed down her neck, lingering on her collarbone, the contact sent shivers down her spine. It awakened the primal need she had been wanting to hide since they met.
She wanted him.
No.
She needed him, inside her.
Her face flushed at the thought of him taking her, preferably right against these walls.
"You want me," he stated. ""As much as I want you."
Shocked by her own raw and potent yearning, she turned her head away.
"I don't…"
"Shhh…" he silenced her with a finger. Then he inched closer, so close his long lashes brushed against her cheek. Her heart pounded like a drum against her chest, fast and hot in anticipation.
"Now tell me little one… do I need to get rid of someone before I make you beg me to let you come?"