Not that I care about the Chosen One, may he rot, but my maker after Cassandra? That’s not good at all.
My phone buzzes again and, this time, it’s the message I’ve exchanged a favor for. I enter the address onto Google Maps and turn my engine on. My car purrs to life, and I slam my foot on the gas pedal. Every moment Cassandra spends away from me, the danger grows.
Even if I don’t understand what’s going on.
CHAPTER6
CASSANDRA
My gaze roams over the man standing before me. A cop, but I’m pretty sure he’s not from Myrtle Creek. The cops around here pack much more of a donut pouch, and this guy could be an action movie star for all I know.
His bulk is obvious even in his lowered stance, both hands on his gun. He’s huge. Like,huge. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone this big. He’s tall, but his broad shoulders and thick biceps end all possibility of a lithe frame. With how big he is and the dark skin and short, dark hair, he’s the perfect opposite of Donatello’s slim, blond figure.
I lick my lips. Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to be inspecting how handsome he is. He’s a fucking cop, and he just told me to surrender. My hands clutch into fists, and the adrenaline shooting through my body keeps my heart thundering.
“Just give in, and everything will work out,” he says, and I know that’s a filthy lie. Everything might work out, just not for me.
“I can’t do that,” I tell him, my voice trembling like a flag in a hurricane. I clear my throat. Come on, Cassandra. You’re supposed to show him you’re not afraid. Even if he could break your neck with one hand. “You don’t understand,” I add, pathetically. Of course, he doesn’t understand, and he’s not interested in it. That’s not how cops work.
“Try me.” He motions with his chin to my bedroom and the bed, still undone from yesterday. “Have a seat and tell me what you think happened. From the New Council’s point of view, you were seen standing next to a dead body after you followed the victim out of the casino in a rage.”
The New Council. I knew the supernatural police had to have a proper name. I swallow and shake my head. “There’s no way I’ll just have a seat. You’ll put me down and cuff me.” I mean, does being cuffed by him sound bad? No, not so much. It’s the idea of not being able to get uncuffed that hits me wrong.
Hot Cop — a recent addition to my imaginative harem, with Hot Blond, a.k.a. Donatello — studies me for a long moment, narrowing his eyes. It’s like he sees something else or is trying to see something else. Did I leave any magic marks behind? Not sure that’s possible. Crap, I should have read more about how the supes world works.
He puts his hands up, holding the gun between two fingers. The man is so big the pistol looks like a toy. “I’ll put it down,” he says, bending at the waist as he keeps my gaze prisoner. “And you won’t need to fear me.”
Lie. The sensation of it washes over me. After Donatello said so many truths, it’s weird to be hit with a lie out of nowhere. My heartbeat spikes. He doesn’t mean that. He knows he could hurt me easily without a gun. His freaking immense body is a weapon.
Fear churns in my stomach for a mere second, and I take the shot. With him bent at the waist like this, I have some advantage. He’s big, and sometimes the big guys are the slowest. I’ve always been fast. I had to when I spent my childhood running from others who wanted to hurt me.
My legs tense, and I jump into action. I whirl around, eyes on the living room window. It’s open, thank fuck. The vampire who broke in must have gotten in here through it while it was still dark outside. If I’m fast enough, I can jump through it like a hoop. Hot Cop is too big, and he’ll have to deal with the locked door before he catches me.
This is my chance. I may just make it. Without ID or money or a phone, I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. A small voice in my head says I should have stayed with Donatello. He’s the first person in forever to show me kindness. A kindness I don’t know the reason of, yeah, but kindness anyway.
Sheesh, that’s how needy I am.
My legs pump me across the room to the window. My vision narrows into it. I halt a second to prepare for the jump. The second I do, a hand spreads on my right shoulder blade, I lose balance and slam into the wall. My eyes snap shut with the force of the impact, and my entire skeleton trembles. There’s not a bone in me that doesn’t shudder with the power. There’s no pain when I hit the wall, and when I open my eyes, I know Hot Cop meant to stop me, not to hurt me.
If he wanted to hurt me, he could. He just chose not to.
From up close, he looks so much bigger it’s scary. My eyes widen, almost popping off their sockets. With my cheek to the wall, his chest pressed against my back, I have to swallow my heart to stop it from choking me. His form overshadows me, and his warm breath touches my cheek, fingers digging into my hair.
His chest rumbles. Not like the purr of a cat, but something fiercer, more powerful. It’s like the growl of a big predator, the sound that comes off a lion before he roars. I grind my teeth together, closing my eyes again. Fear makes my throat tight, and I try to move, but he’s so solid I can’t even change my footing.
Then his nose touches my temple, and my body changes directions. One moment I tremble with fear, the next my girl parts are giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. Get a hold of yourself, Cassandra. The man can slam your skull into the wall until all that’s left of your brain is a smear.
“What are you doing?” I hiss from between clenched teeth. He keeps breathing against me, every breath growing deeper and deeper. He steps away and then pulls back, the hand on my hair slowly letting go. Is this a catch? Does he want to play games or something? He might be waiting for me to run again so he can put me down. The idea of torture makes me nauseous.
I turn to face him, every step calculated, watching his powerful muscles shift. His eyes are wide too, and his mouth hangs half-open as if he’s surprised by something he just figured out. And something else has changed.
His eyes. His eyes are freaking gold. Not the yellow of contact lenses, but the pure color of rich, melted gold, still liquid and hot. I have never seen anyone with eyes like these. My breath comes out shallow. What’s going on now? He bares his teeth. His canines are not pointy as Donatello’s, so maybe I can scratch vampire out of the list. Air escapes his mouth in a deep, low roar.
“Mate.”
I blink. “Mate?”
He takes a step closer. I press my back to the wall behind me. “Mate,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes and giving a small shake of his head. “Fuck. This is shitty timing.”