He stepped closer, bare feet padding across the deck, until he stood so close she could feel the heat rolling off him, and smell his earthy scent. His eyes trailed over her shivering body, like he was sizing up the value of his sacrificial victim, and her muscles tightened at his gaze.

Her heart thrummed. There was no way she could take on someone with his strength, not when she’d been drained by the incubus. And yet, she had no other choice. An image flashed in her mind—swords shining in the moonlight as someone trained her. Fight, Ursula.

Just as he took another step closer, she dropped her purse, throwing a hard punch to his jaw. He flinched, but didn’t move. With a racing pulse, she threw another, but her aim was off. He caught her fist in his hand, his grip iron-clad.

Spinning her around, he pulled her arm up behind her back, pushing her up against the wall. The splintered wood pierced her silk dress, and she fought to catch her breath.

“I told you,” he purred in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “You can’t fight me. Let me—”

Like hell I can’t. She elbowed him hard in the stomach, and he stumbled. She tried to race for the door, but he caught her by the hair, yanking her head back. He slipped his other arm around her body, holding her tight, and growled. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want to die. Or burn. I don’t want to suffer for something F.U. has done, and I don’t want Zee to suffer because of her either. If I could murder anyone, it would be F.U., but that would create a paradox…” She let her thought trail off. She was babbling like a nutter now.

His strong body pressed into her back. “I wasn’t going to kill you.”

With one of his hands tightly fisted into her hair, and the other grabbing her shoulder, she wasn’t going anywhere. His arm heated her skin through her dress, warming her breasts.

“Are you talking about yourself in the third person again? It’s really strange.”

Relief flooded her. “You said there was no point fighting Emerazel. Just like there’s no point in me fighting you.”

He loosened his grip on her. “I should kill you. I won’t pretend it didn’t cross my mind.”

She stepped out of his grasp, hugging herself. Away from his warm body, the air chilled her skin. “But you’re not going to?”

Golden lantern light bathed his chiseled body. “I should, but no.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, confusion and anger warring across his features. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“I thought you did whatever Emerazel told you to.”

“Mostly, yes.” He looked away, his face suddenly sad. “But I loathe her.”