“Do you want to die tonight?”
He still hasn’t answered my question, about what he did to the employee who grabbed me, what he might have done to Ace, but before I can press him on it, a shadow seems to fall across me and I startle, whipping my head around.
A scare actor looms in my face, this one with a mask of solid white. No holes for a mouth, nose, or eyes that I can see, and the lack of human features in the dark is disorienting. The person grazes my hip, their fingers trailing along my ski suit. I jerk back, pushing closer to Sylvan.
His arm slips down to my waist, holding me tight, and when the scare actor pulls back only to lunge at me even closer, nearly nose-to-nose with me, Sylvan moves.
He’s so fast, I don’t anticipate his reaction until he’s done it.
His forearm is against the actor’s chest as he shoves him to the wall, and in the eerie silence, I hear the actor’s rough exhale, like the motion took his breath away. Sylvan is enormous compared to this person, so I’m not surprised.
“She’s off limits,” he says, and his voice is pleasant, like he’s talking to a dear friend.
His tone makes a chill crawl down my spine.
The actor swallows, audible in the dark, then nods, the white head jerking up and down.
I see Sylvan’s teeth flash, then the actor slinks back into the shadows.
Sylvan tightens his arm around me, and before we take another step, he dips his head, his lips ghosting over my ear.
“Do you feel safe?”
The question surprises me. Little hairs stand on end along the back of my neck.
Do I?
My heart is still beating a million miles a minute and whatever happened with Sylvan and Tasia doesn’t seem important anymore, but now that I’m under his arm, protected, the emotion starts to come back, flooding hot and viscous through my bloodstream.
I pull back, staring up into his light eyes. “Where’s your girlfriend?” The snarl in my words is embarrassing and my face heats, but I doubt he can see it in the darkness.
“Not safe.”
A lump forms in my throat. Flashbacks come creeping in from the first night we met.
But he’s not a suspect.
As far as I know, he’s not even a person of interest.
Even so, I don’t back down. For all I know, he’s using cryptic words to make me feel exactly this way: Confused.
I try to pull away from him, but his free hand snatches my wrist, quick-fast.
His fingers tighten and a low laugh leaves his throat. “I never expected you to be so jealous.”
I want to scream I’m not, but I know how that protest will sound.
Weak.
Like a lie.
It annoys me it’s the truth, so I stay silent, letting his eyes trail over mine.
In the bubble of our quiet, a scream cuts through from a distance, and my breath catches in my throat.
He doesn’t react at all. Not so much as a blink.
“How did you find me? You went through with Tasia.”
