A clatter sounded above our heads. We all raised our eyes and waited to see if it was a situation that required our presence, or if it was just the daily chaos that was living at Summer Grove House.
Silence, then a roar. Not Hudson, but full of violence.
With a sigh, we stood and filed out of the vault, my aunts trailing behind me as I bounded up the stairs.
Ezra had a guy pinned to the wall with a hand around his throat. Rebecca stood beside him, wearing a long, pale-blue silk and lace nightgown, her arms folded and her perfectly plucked eyebrow arched. “I have every right to take to my bed whomever I please. You don’t own me.”
Oh, boy. I had no patience for this.
I shot Hudson a look. He leaned against the wall with a foot braced against it, his posture relaxed and a lazy smile wreathing his face. “Are you going to do something?” I whispered as I approached him.
His hand snaked around my waist, and in a smooth move, he plastered my back against his chest and pinned me in place. “No, and neither are you.”
“He’s going to kill him.”
“Unlikely, since he didn’t make it to her bed. Ezra will probably let him go with a beating.”
Probably? Liz glared at Dave, and he rolled his eyes. Glad to see the idiot duo of shifters were back in sync.
“Wrong, princess,” Ezra growled. “And my bite marks on your body prove it, just like the telltale ones on mine.”
Rebecca threw her hands in the air. “I’m not made to be with one person. He is nothing more than an itch that needs scratching.”
“Then you scratch it with me,” Ezra snapped.
Rebecca took a step back, heading toward the stairs and no doubt prepping for a retreat.
Ezra growled, making her freeze. “Don’t run from me, Rebecca.”
She heard his warning and clenched her jaw.
The spirits openly gawked at the unfolding drama. I guess they had gotten used to not averting their eyes since the living couldn’t see them most of the time. The voyeur’s dream.
Ezra dragged in a breath before turning to the poor dude trapped against the wall. “I’m going to let you go, but you will get out of White Castle, no, out of Louisiana, and if you happen to see me heading down a street somewhere, turn your ass around and run.”
He shoved off the wall, and the man didn’t pause as he made his escape.
“That was rude,” Rebecca muttered. “He doesn’t even have his wallet.”
“He has his life,” Ezra snarled. “How much clearer do I need to be with you?”
She tilted her nose in the air. “You have been crystal clear and understood. I just don’t agree.”
He stalked her one step at a time until he’d backed her up against the wall. Maggie’s head popped out from behind the reception desk, her big brown eyes blinking at the show.
“What are you afraid of, Rebecca?” His soft voice was ten times more terrifying than his growly one. This was restrained violence wrapped in silk.
“Nothing,” she whispered.
His fingers wrapped around her chin, ensuring she couldn’t turn away from him. “You are running scared, princess, and it’s the thought of caring, of falling, and of being hurt that you fear.”
Rebecca’s eyes watered with unshed tears, but she didn’t deny it. That was progress. The vampire princess believed she didn’t deserve something real. I’d never gotten to the root of it, but I suspected it had everything to do with why she was hiding out in a different country at a bed-and-breakfast. Her parents knew where she was, but they knew they’d have to go through me to take her.
“You don’t scare me, Ezra. I could never fall for a pushy, growly, idiotic male with boundary issues.”
I begged to differ. They had a way of getting under your skin when you weren’t looking, and by the time you realized you’d lost your heart, it was too late.
Ezra grinned, all teeth, his energy rolling across the room in a wave that lifted the hairs on my nape. He turned to me. “Cora, I have paid for the room next to Rebecca’s for a year. Maggie can confirm.”
