“Then you’ll leave me no choice but to take more persuasive measures.”
Latoya’s fearful gaze disappeared, and the manipulative sneer returned to her face. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
My jaw slackened.
Who the hell was this woman?
“Is that the big-bad-wolf voice you used on my sister?” Latoya taunted with a smile. “Becausedamn, I don’t know how her little heart could take all of that. All of… you.” Her eyes drifted down to my crotch. “And I wouldn’t be so quick to rip out my tongue, Alpha. Not before you see what it can do.”
My wolf growled in response to the challenge in her eyes. But I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
I kept my expression neutral, my voice cold. “You’re playing with your life, Latoya.”
She shrugged, making herself comfortable in her cot, the chain clanking with the movement. “I’ve always been a fan of living on the edge, Alpha. Besides,” she said, her eyes meeting mine, “what’s the worst that can happen? You’ll kill me?”
“Slowly.”
Latoya’s expression never faltered. “I’ve died once before, pureblood,” she said, her voice steady. “I’m not afraid to do it again.” Her eyes narrowed as she emphasized each word. “Now, bring me my sister.”
Chapter Three
Joanna
In the past, whenever I was having a shit day, I’d pick a fight with a werewolf on our watchlist. But the uprising threat made it too dangerous to hunt alone. And if I wanted to team up…who’d even answer my call?
If word about me and Marcus had spread, the reactions most definitely mirrored the one from my ex, Malik: disbelief. And more pointedly, disgust.
“Joanna Sullivan, everyone. The hunter who’s fucking the alpha.”
I was an enigma. But hunters sleeping with supernatural creatures wasn’tunheardof. I worked with a few hunters who swore vampires could make their partners come by feeding from them, and how the hell would they know that unless there’d been intent to fuck?
Before Marcus, I was even involved with his beta. Of course, that was just sex and nothing more than a necessary distraction.
But with Marcus…
Shit.
It wasn’t too hard to remember why I hated jogging. Instead of clearing my head, I was living in it. So, I was more than happy when my building came into view.
And I was sure whoever was driving the SUV was happy, too.
For thirteen minutes, the black Chevrolet had remained a decent distance behind me—trailing at a normal pace, using its indicator at every turn. But for the last two minutes, it was right on my ass, as if the driver realized I’d clocked him and had given up trying to hide.
Instead of walking to the rear of my building, I began my cool down stretches right in front of the old loading dock. With my back to the street, I heard the hum of the engine disappear. Doors slammed shut, and two people clunked toward me.
Auras buzzed like mosquitoes in my ear; the two strangers were definitively human, but they weren’t hunters.
I turned around when someone cleared their throat, and to my surprise, one stalker was a woman. But her impressive physique agreed with her heavy footsteps.
“I’m Viper.” Her muscles screamed bodybuilder, with defined biceps that rippled as she crossed her arms in her snug black tank top. She gestured with a tilt of her head, making the snake tattoo that curled from behind her left ear down the side of her neck dance. “This is my partner, Tobias.”
“We would like you to come with us.”
I turned and studied the man right in front of me. He was beefy, with thick, bulging muscles that stretched the fabric of his black shirt to its limits.
Again, my gaze darted between them. “No, thank you.”
My voice carried a nonchalance that brought a furrow to Viper’s brow. “Miss Sullivan, we weren’t asking.”
