Sweat dripped down my spine. I didn’t like puzzles that I couldn’t solve.
A memory of my dad looking at me over his glasses played in my head.Don’t overthink it, Flower. The simplest answer is usually the correct one.
Okay, so the simplest answer to why this Vampire was looking at me like I was some kind of supermodel, even though I hadn’t showered in a week…
But that would mean?—
“I’m your mate?” I asked, bracing myself for his laughter.
“Yes.” He brushed his tongue along his bottom lip, and my stomach flipped.
“Shit,” I whispered, dropping my arm down limply at my side. Only years of training kept me from dropping it as shock made my limbs go numb.
The Vampires burst into motion.
“So you don’t know who Finau is, then,” the scruffy one drawled.
“I’ve never even heard that name,” I replied, watching as he nodded thoughtfully.
“Why were they holding you?” the beautiful Vampire asked as his brother left the room.
“I don’t know,” I replied, clicking on the safety of the pistol. I rounded the desk and tried to hand it back to him.
Vampire lore was legendary. People discussed them ad nauseam, and I’d heard every harebrained theory there was. Most of it was bullshit, but sometimes humans stumbled onto a piece of truth.
Like the fact that if I were this Vampire’s mate, I was suddenly the safest I’d ever been in my life.
“Keep it until we’re out of here,” the Vampire said, his gaze still roaming all over me.
I nodded and adjusted my grip.
I followed him across the room as his brothers started yelling from the main part of the garage where I’d been held.
“Shit,” he hissed as he picked up speed.
“Wait,” I called, jogging behind him. My legs protested as the muscles stretched and tightened, but I refused to acknowledge it.
“You okay?” he asked, jerking to a stop in the hallway.
“What’s your name?” I asked, pausing a foot away.
“Daniel Boucher.” His gaze was warm as he shot me a soft smile.
I barely stopped my mouth from dropping open. Everyone had heard of the Boucher brothers. Their names were legendary in certain circles, and I’d spent the past five years hearing about their exploits.
“You gonna tell me yours?” he asked as he started moving again.
“Rosemary Whitlock,” I replied, watching for any sense of recognition. None came.
“Nice to meet you, Rosie,” he said as we exited out of the hallway to find his brothers barking at each other.
Panic seemed to pulse inside the building like a living thing as I followed the group toward the doors. I wasn’t sure where we were going, but I would’ve followed the devil if it meant I could escape the four walls of my prison. Armed intruders breaking in to kill my captors was the perfect cover, and I nearly sighed as I took in a lungful of fresh air outside.
From what I could gather from the shorthand they spoke, their home had been attacked while they were away. No one said it out loud, but from their sharp movements and the speed at which we reached their cars, there were very important occupants at home.
Daniel threw open the back seat of a nondescript sedan and gestured for me to climb in. As soon as I was seated, he threw himself into the driver’s seat. Seconds later, we were speeding toward the end of the block and flying around the corner. I buckled my seat belt as I watched his brother in the front passenger seat, his body strung tight as a wire as he leaned forward, like that would make the car move faster.
“They’re really good drivers,” the not-brother said from beside me as he buckled his own belt. “Lots of practice.” He didn’t sound confident.
