“Holy shit,” her friend whispered, a look of pure lust crossing her face. The smell of her arousal was immediate and potent. So was Tasha’s as soon as she focused on the thing, the vampire, that had captured Jennifer’s attention.
The paranorm stopped beside their table. “Join me.”
Those two words whispered across Nora’s skin like a silk scarf. The vampire’s eyes were as dark as the clothes he wore. They were set into a face that projected strength—strong cheekbones, strong jaw, strong shoulders that led into a strong, hard body. His age was indeterminate, but he wasn’t young. His posture held too much authority, and his years, his experiences, added a richer scent to his aura, the invisible atmosphere that surrounded all paranormal beings. Everything about him was dark and treacherous and sinfully beautiful.
The arousal perfuming the air increased, distracting Nora for another moment before her instinct kicked in. Her ire. There was no way the vampire did not know she was a wolf, yet he encroached on her table, her territory, her friends.
“Of course,” Jennifer said, her face flushed.
“No.” The single syllable whipped from Nora’s mouth, countering the vampire’s compulsion.
Jennifer froze midstand. It wasn’t out of character for her to go off with an attractive man, but this was a vampire who could strip a human of her choices just as effectively as an alpha took away a wolf’s. Nora would not let her friends become dinner, especially not for an arrogant asshole who had yet to acknowledge Nora’s presence.
Jennifer’s gaze shifted between Nora and the vampire. “Would you like to sit with us?”
“He would like to go,” Nora said.
The vampire held his hand out to Jennifer. “I have a private table.”
“This table was private until you walked up.” Still, he didn’t glance Nora’s way.
Jennifer straightened. She reached for his hand.
“Sit down,” Nora ordered.
Jennifer’s attention snapped to her. Nora held her gaze, letting her will ensnare her friend. It was something she usually tried not to do, but she had to counter the vampire’s compulsion, had to show him that he had chosen the wrong night, the wrong place, and the wrong person to stalk.
“I would enjoy dinner with you,” the vampire said, his hand still held out.
“Find someone else.” Nora’s voice came out in a snarl, and finally the vampire looked at her. His focus moved slowly from her face to her neck to her breasts.
“She is the most beautiful woman in this establishment.” The words were a deliberate slight, an insult saying she was nothing and nobody. That she was insignificant.
Jennifer placed her hand in the vampire’s. “My name is Jennifer.”
“Jennifer,” he repeated, returning that dark gaze to the human. “Come.”
Jennifer threw her an apologetic look but let the vampire lead her away from their table. Jaw slack, Nora watched them walk toward the hallway that led to the restrooms and back exit.
The bastard had stolen from her. He’d subverted her dominance and taken away her friend.
He couldn’t be local. Vampires and werewolves might tolerate each other elsewhere, but here near the foothills of the Appalachians, in her father’s territory, he and the vampire master, Arcuro, vied for power and influence. They avoided war only by respecting the claims of the other paranorms, claims of both people and property. This vampire had transgressed.
She stood in one fast, fluid motion.
“I’ll be back,” she said to Tasha. She had to move, to act. She could feel the wolf waiting under her skin, just one small explosion from bursting out to kill.
Maybe Nora would taste blood tonight. She could almost feel her teeth sinking into the vampire, could almost feel his throat collapsing between her jaws.
Her mouth was watering by the time she reached the hallway. Her fingernails dug into the skin of her palms. The vampire stood looking down at Jennifer. She beamed up at him and pressed herself against his body, completely enraptured.
“You are interrupting,” the vampire said, sliding a finger down the side of Jennifer’s neck.
“You are dead.” She grabbed Jennifer’s arm and yanked her away.
“Nor-a!” Her friend mangled her name.
“Go back to the table. Get Tasha. Leave,” she ordered. The vampire’s gaze met Nora’s. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Her hold on Jennifer’s arm slipped, and something—distress, alarm, hunger—plunged through her stomach.
