The guy’s brows lifted. “He was attacking you?”
“Is that a question? Because you should know the answer before you freakin’ shoot someone!”
Neev, too drunk for purpose, turned coy—batting her lashes at the stranger while sticking out her chest. “You’re our hero.”
Scoffing and accepting that we’d all drunk more than was wise, I ordered Raisin, “Keep an eye on her. You know what she’s like for a Latino accent!” That earned me a chuckle from our would-be savior, but I squinted at him. “Who the hell are you, and why are you the only person who helped us in this nightclub?”
“Because the rest of the crowd are pussies and I’m aLobo Rojo.”
My woozy brain struggled to translate. “Red wolf?” Huh, why did I recognize that name?
“Sí.”He studied us with a frown. “I expected more screaming.”
“We don’t scare easily,” Raisin mocked as she made herself a human barrier between him and Neev, who had a sudden fascination with the guy’s sports coat.
“Has this turned into a paranormal romance and nobody told me? Are you a shifter?”
“He can shift for me,” Neev purred.
Snorting, he muttered something aboutgringas locasbefore stating, “We run this city.”
Ohhhhhh.
“Fuuuuuck,” I breathed. “The State Department website never said shit about any red wolves owning Cancún.”
Before I could panic, he kicked the victim of his GSW in the shoulder. “Who is this piece of trash anyway?”
“Another question you should have asked before you shot him.” I glanced at the guy who was busy bleeding out on the dance floor. “Anyway, I soooo could have taken him.”
“Why try to when I had a gun,mama?”
Sniffing my disdain for that methodology and annoyed that my training kicked in, I couldn’t help but notice the blood from the GSW flowed a lot faster than my initial diagnosis. “Think you nicked an artery.”
‘Abstaining from deleterious and mischievous behavior’ to the podcast bro who’d oozed slime and hit on me while puking up hard kombucha?
Ugh.
Sometimes, I really hated the Nightingale Pledge.
Tucking his piece away, theLobo Rojoshrugged. “One less asswipe roaming my streets sounds good to me.”
As I fought the inclination to jump into nursing mode, I sniped, “You might be okay with this, Mr. Wolf, but I don’t feel like spending the night in a jail cell!”
“There’s no way they have AC?—”
“Priorities, Raisin!”
The guy tipped his head to the side. “Why are none of you freaking out?”
“Hello? This is me freaking out.”
He hummed. “No need to worry about jails.”
“God, do you think he knows how hot he is?” Neev whispered. Only, her whisper was louder than a scream in the silent nightclub. “What’s your name, oh, savior ours?”
I tossed a glare at her, whereas Raisin tried and failed to hide her amusement but did me a favor by slapping a hand over our baby sister’s mouth.
“Miguel Martinez.”
