Chapter 1
You’d bereally hotifyou’d just lose some weight.
My fingers curled around my car keys as I stormed out of thebar and into the thick, muggy air of July.The jagged edges dug into my palm asI resisted the urge to walk back and shove the keys into one of the jackass’sover-inflated muscles.
From the moment Rick asked me out, I knew the date was goingto be a bad idea.
The second I’d stepped foot on the elliptical at the gymthat was a part of the Lima Academy, I’d seen Rick buzzing from one chick tothe next, wearing his nylon sweats and babyGap shirt, so tight I alwaysexpected it to burst at any given moment.I hadn’t even realized he worked forLima Academy until tonight, employed in their sales and marketing department,and I felt like I kneweverythingabout him because that was all Rickdid.
He talked about himself.
God, why did I even agree to go out with him?Was I thatlonely and sad?The clicking of my heels across the sidewalk was my onlyanswer.Parking in the city on a Friday night was ridiculous.It was going totake a year to get to my car.
You’d bereally hotif you’djust lose some weight.
My lips thinned.I couldn’t believe heactuallysaidthat to me, like it was a compliment.What in the actual hell?Itwasn’t like I didn’t know I could stand to lose a few pounds or thirty, but inmy twenty-eight years of life, I had long accepted that I would never, in thehistory of ever, have a thigh gap, my butt would always have strange dimples init, and no amount of sit-ups were going to counterbalance my love of cupcakes.
Deep down, I knew why I agreed to go out with him.I hadn’tbeen on a successful date in two years, and my last serious relationship hadevoked the “to death do us part” clause.
I was twenty-eight.
A widow.
A twenty-eight-year-old widow who needed to lose weight.
Sighing, I turned the corner as I reached up, tucking myhair back from my face.A fine sheen of sweat dotted my brow.I stuck close tothe edge of the sidewalk, walking under thestreet lampsand staying away from the dark shadows that bled out from the numerous alleys.I could see my car up ahead, at the end of the silent block.It was early for aFriday night, but I was going to go home, crack open that can of BBQ Pringlesthat had been calling my name all evening, and forget about Rick while divinginto the latest Lara Adrian romance.
Why couldn’t alpha vampires with a heart of gold be real?
A sudden pained grunt snagged my attention as I was halfwayto my car.Instinct flared alive, a burning fire in my gut urging me to keepwalking, but I looked to my right.I couldn’t help it.My head turned on itsown accord, a reflex, and I stumbled.
Horror seized me, freezing my muscles and shooting darts ofice through my blood.Terror slowed time, throwing the scene into stark detail.
Dull yellow light formed a halo over the three men in thealley.One stood further back from the other two.His hair bleached blond andgreasy, sticking up all over his head.He had a scar.A thin slice across hischeek, paler than his skin.Another man was leaning against the brick wall ofthe building, crowding the alley.I couldn’t make out his features, because hishead was hanging from his shoulders, and he appeared barely able to stand,obviously injured.The other man, his head completely shaven, stood directly infront of the injured man, and even though I only saw his profile, it was a faceI’d never forget.
Hatred bled into every line of the man’s face,from the dark slash of brows and squinty eyes,to the hookednose and distorted, curled upper lip.He was a big guy.Tall.Broad in theshoulders.He wore a white tank top, and as my gaze tracked down his arm, Icould tell his skin was shadowed with markings.A tattoo.But I wasn’t thinkingabout the tattoo when I saw what he held in his hand.
The bald man was pointing a gun at the injured man!
Instinct was screaming like a five-alarm fire.Run.Getaway.There’s a gun!Go.But I couldn’t move, torn between shockeddisbelief and some inherent, possibly suicidal urge to do the right thing, tointervene and to—
A small light burst and thunder cracked overhead.Theinjured man crumbled as if some grand puppeteer had cut his strings.He hit theground with a fleshy smack, and for a moment, all I could hear was my heartbeating fiercely, pushing blood through my veins.
That popping snap wasn’t thunder.The burst of light was aspark.
Reality slammed into me as I stared at the fallen man in thealley.A dark puddle formed, spreading from where he lay face first on thedirty pavement.My heart seized in my chest as I opened my mouth, dragging inair.
No.No way.
The man with the scar was talking to the one with the gun,his voice an excited, high-pitched squeal, but I was beyond hearing the exactwords.My hand spasmed, and the keys slipped from my grasp.They clattered offthe sidewalk, as loud as me trying to run on a treadmill.
Bald man’s head swung sharply in my direction, and if I hadfelt like time had slowed before, it stopped right then.Our gazes locked, andin an instant, a horrifying connection was formed.He saw me.I saw him.
I saw him shoot someone inthe face.
And this man, this killer, knew that.
His arm started to lift.All my muscles reacted and unlockedat the same moment.Pulse pounding, I spun around and started running backtoward the bar, my lungs burning as a scream tore out from me, a sound I wassure even in my darkest moments, I’d never made before.
