Page 5 of Devil’s Snare

I didn’t think my explanation helped. She began to tremble. “What?”

“He’s a church grim.” I shrugged, knowing she wouldn’t understand. I wouldn’t normally educate anyone other than my club brothers about the cemetery’s guardian. But I didn’t want her to fear him. “They’re harmless unless you’re prey.”

“Ch-church grim?”

“Yeah. Sort of like a big dog. Think Cane Corso but with sharp nails, venomous fangs, and a barbed tail. He’s got black and red fur.”

She blinked, processing that information. “You’re kidding.”

I tilted my head to the side, studying her. “No.”

“What’s the dog, uh, church grim’s name?”

“Omen.”

A look of genuine incredulousness appeared. “You named your pet Omen?”

“First off, you don’t name a church grim. That’s offensive. He told me his name.”

“Told you?” She scoffed. “Are you saying your invisible dog talks to you?”

Omen bared his teeth and growled. He was sensitive about his name.

Gwen lifted her hands. “Sorry. I won’t call you a dog anymore. Okay, big boy?”

Omen licked her face and then bounded off, probably catching the scent of prey on the wind. He really had the shortest attention span. Gwen must be special to snare his attention and hold it for as long as she did.

Mostly because he didn’t want to eat her.

“He doesn’t talk,” I finally answered. “Not in a way that would make sense to you.”

She pushed off the ground and began swiping the dirt from her clothes. “I’m not going to try to dissect that answer right now.”

Good idea.

“It’s getting late. I should go.”

“I’ll walk you to the gates,” I offered. This was a fucking graveyard in the middle of the night. Anything could happen. Threats from the nearby forest. Whatever caught Omen’s attention. Me.

Gwen needed protection.

“Uh, thanks.”

I walked beside her, slowing my strides so she didn’t have to run to keep up with me since I stood nearly six and a half feet tall. My long legs ate up the distance without trying. We descended the hill, steering toward the pathway that led to the main entrance. It didn’t take long, and we didn’t strike up a conversation, which suited me fine. I wasn’t the chatty type.

When the large gates loomed in front of us, we stopped.

Gwen turned toward me, lifting her head to stare into my eyes. “I was going to thank you, but I don’t even know your name.”

“Cin,” I answered with a smirk, knowing she’d jump to the wrong spelling.

“Sin?” Her gaze took me in, roaming over as much of me as she could see in the moonlight.

My black clothes hid most of my skin and the dark ink that covered my upper body.

Since my night vision was far better than hers, I noticed the slight flush rising into her cheeks. How sweet. A woman who still blushed. Unlike the club girls who filled the bar inside the Devil’s Wood every night. Her reaction sparked something to life inside me—a renewal of the fiery lust that briefly flashed through me when I first saw her.

“Short for Cinerator.”