Yes, he’d been a monster, driven to madness and revenge after
Stephanie’s death. Billy had kidnapped, murdered, and conspired with a
blood sorcerer. He had to be stopped, but it hadn’t been her right to put him
down.
That had been my duty. But Savannah didn’t understand a thing about us.
Or care to.
A creeping frost wound around my heart as Savannah strode toward me
with her gym bag in hand and a fire burning in her eyes. Sam mouthed,
Watch out.
The red-haired vixen homed in on me like a heat-seeking missile,
stopping inches from my chest. “What the hell are you doing here, Laurent? I
thought we had to stay away from each other.”
Her eyes were murderous, unsheathed daggers.
I didn’t bother moving a muscle in response, just leaned back against my
truck with my arms crossed. “I have information. Are you going to listen, or
are you going to try to stab me?”
She dropped her bag onto the pavement. “I don’t have a knife, so you
might as well start talking.”
Her body vibrated with repressed fury, and her magical signature was on
full display—the scent of tangerines and the feel of cool water flowing over
my skin. It was like fucking nectar, driving me wild. I could smell her anger
and resentment, and beneath it all, an undeniable undercurrent of desire.
I’d forgotten what it was like to be around her. A continuous assault on
my senses. Contradictions piled upon contradictions. She was a beautiful
nightmare.
My eyes dropped to her mouth. Her lips were full and soft, though the
bottom one was cut and swollen. A stain of blood brightened the surface, and
I could almost taste it. Blood that was special, that the sorcerer had wanted.
My muscles tensed with desire and protectiveness. “You’re hurt. You
ladies must play rough.”