Agent Hill paused, heaving a heavy sigh. “Word of advice,” he began. He pivoted on his heel to face me, his hazel eyes hard and unapologetic. “Don’t worry too much about monsters hiding under beds. It’s the one who was smart enough to get inyourbed that should concern you.”
???
Breaking News: Multiple Dead in Attack on Nightclub.
I’d shut off the faucet to my bath and reread the headline multiple times after the notification popped up on my screen. My finger kept hovering over the news widget displaying Club Luna’s neon sign, but it refused to cooperate.
Was it a coincidence someone attacked the werewolf club the same day the Bureau cornered me and James?
I paced my loft and readied myself to call Agent Hill for some answers… Then I remembered the bastard had never given me his number.
“I’ll reach you,”I recited in the darkness. “Corny piece of shit.”
I unlocked my phone to call James instead, but the doorbell rang, as if he sensed I needed him.
I was relieved I no longer had to talk to him over the phone. Sure, it was the middle of the night, but we always said, “If Death never slept, why would hunters?”
I needed James to see the sincerity in my eyes as I thanked him for not telling the Bureau about Latoya. It must’ve been hard to keep the information to himself, especially when the payoff was my sister being in a government black site.
James pounded on my front door.
Right… he was angry with me. I’d have to warn him to keep his opinions about my recent decisions to himself.
I grabbed my robe off the wrought-iron bedframe and threw it on over my underwear as my front door succumbed to another barrage of fists.
“Geez, old man.” I ignored my house slippers and scurried across the cold cement floor to the other end of the loft. “You already destroyed my keypad this year,” I complained as I unlocked the door. “Now you’re after the rest of my—”
Marcus leaned against the doorframe bathed in moonlight, one arm stretched above his head for support. Blood was the only thing I discerned from the array of colors staining his white tee. Soot and sweat even matted down the silver streak in his hair.
His amber eyes jittered as his gaze traveled down my body, from head to toe and back up again as if I were the one struggling to stand.
“Are you okay?” I asked, trying to deaden the worry in my voice.
Marcus confirmed with a slow nod of his head.
“Come in.” I stepped aside and allowed him to stumble past me out of the chilled night air… and into my sanctuary. A place no person besides James had ever entered. I was unsure how I felt about it, but I closed the front door regardless, locking it behind me.
Marcus stood in the middle of my apartment, taking in his surroundings.
On his left, the panoramic windows separated the exposed brick. Their motorized blinds were half closed, yet the Moon’s celestial spotlight still cast shadows upon the antique coffee table and brown leather sofa. Both pieces of furniture were more for looks than usage, since James and I usually talked shop over coffee in the kitchenette to the right.
The walls were lined with industrial pipe shelves displaying family photos. The photos of Latoya lay face down… ever since she reappeared.
Past the row of Edison bulbs suspended from the high ceiling was the bathroom, the only true area with four walls of its own.
And finally, at the rear of the loft, was my bed. It held most of Marcus’s attention, and damn it, as I watched him stare at it, I becameveryaware of my bra against my nipples.
I hated this… how much my body craved his. How the storm raging inside my head calmed when I was near him… but just his fucking scent could trigger tsunamis between my legs.
I cleared my throat. “How badly are you injured? Have you started to heal?”
Marcus tugged at the collar of his shirt. He turned his face toward me, his unexpected glare leaving me speechless. “Where were you today?” he asked, his voice a low, demanding rumble. I was still trying to figure out why he seemed upset when he repeated, “Where. Were—”
“I don’t think that’s what’s important right now, Blackwood.”
“It’s the only thing important right now, Joanna.” I tried ignoring the earnestness in his voice but found my pulse still racing. “I don’t need to heal. The blood isn’t mine.”
“So, you’re not hurt?”
