I don’t want to be his prey.Licking my lips, my attention fell to the strange marking around his eye.I should be escaping to the safety of the library.Yet, my feet remained anchored to the sidewalk.
Straight, white teeth shone from a spreading smile. “You’re wondering about the tattoo.”
“How do you know...” I snapped my mouth shut.Is he reading my mind?
No, I was being stupid. People probably wondered about the tattoo all the time, and he used it as a weird, creepy way to start conversations with girls.
Or prey.
I should’ve left already. I should’ve turned on my heel and marched straight into the library, yet something about him called to me, keeping me in the angry sun and gazing up at the strange, captivating man who might or might not have been a serial killer.
Dipping his chin lower, he pushed his cheek next to mine, and I stopped breathing. “Because you can’t quit staring at it.” His hot breath tickled the velvety area of my earlobe.
An urge to flee rose, but deeper inside, in the back of my mind, another voice warned me to stand my ground, that he’d enjoy nothing more than to give chase.
God, he smells delicious.
His nose brushed my cheek as he pulled away. “The marking was a gift given to me many years ago. My father...” Scowling, he lifted a hand to my neck, reaching out to finger the gold pendant hanging from its chain. “I hate this thing on you.”
“Hey.” My stupor broke at the touch of his fingers on my skin, and I batted at his hand, but he clenched the pendant tightly, not budging. “Keep your paws to yourself.”
The mirth left his pale eyes, and anger or irritation burned in their depths. Between us, the golden chain glinted in the sun, suspended in the air, connecting him to me.
“Let go or I’ll spray you.” I raised my hand, my thumb flipping the red safety off the pepper spray. The necklace, given to me by my dad years ago, never left my neck. The jewelry made me feel closer to him, and I’d always imagined it protecting me.
With a hard yank, he ripped away the chain, burning my skin with the violent movement.
“Ouch,” I gasped, clutching at my bare throat out of reflex.
“This”—he raised his fist, the shiny cross dangling from the pendant—“will not protect you.” His words, ominous and growling, shot a chill up my spine.
“Howdareyou steal from me.” I forced my clenched jaw to move. “Give. It. Back.” I rushed him, smashing myself into his wide chest, forgetting about the pepper spray and hitting him with my fists.
His silver-teal eyes met mine. Smiling, he deliberately stuffed the jewelry into his front jeans pocket, my raining blows not seeming to hurt him in the slightest.
I hesitated, debating whether I wanted to shove a hand into his pants or yell to catch someone’s attention. The mace dropped from my fingers, clattering to the sidewalk then rolling onto the street and plinking into the gutter.
Smooth, Phoebe, real smooth. That was your only real defense.A quick scan told me we were alone. Yet he didn’t seem worried. In fact, he stepped back, his eyes lit with an inner fire, as if he enjoyed my frustration.
“Give. It. Back.” I ground my teeth together and held out a palm. “Or I swear to God I’ll—”
With a sly, arrogant smirk, he turned and sprinted away.
“Cain, stop!” Shrill and panicked, my voice split the hushed air.
Under the back of his shirt, the outline of his muscles rippled with each swing of his arms. He threw a mocking glance over his shoulder, shoved a hand into his pants pocket, held out the swinging necklace, and gave a low, throaty laugh.
The ass freakinglaughed. Outrage and incredulity pounded inside my chest.
I ran after him. In those few seconds, he’d cleared fifty or sixty feet.How does he move so fast?But I had a bigger question.Why the hell did he steal my necklace? It’s not worth anything to anyone else.I was sure my dad had probably picked it up as a trinket in one of the cities we’d visited on our many weekend museum trips.
Frustration welled inside me, and I blinked back hot tears. I knew the jewelry was only material, but it hurt to lose it. Especially the way he’d stolen it—literally out from under my nose.
Stomping my foot against the sidewalk, I let out a small scream of exasperation.
I need to think about this rationally.
He said he’d seen me around campus, which meant he was a fellow student. Which also meant I’d be keeping my eyes peeled for him. The next time we met, Cain would regret being a thief. I’d make sure of it.
