Page 13 of Inked & Bloodbound

Not that I’d let him know that.

“You piece of shit! Put me down!” I screech desperately. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Take me back to my car!”

“That’s not going to work,” he says, pulling me out into the warm night air. “They’ll track you, and when they find you?—”

“Track me? What the fuck are you talking about? Let go of me! Help! Someone!”

My cries fall on deaf ears. Drowned out by the droning of the music and sounds that spill out of the bars and clubs along the street. We move impossibly fast, and before I even get a chance to register my surroundings, we arrive at a beautiful black vintage car parked under a streetlight—something old, with sleek curves and polished chrome that belongs in a museum, not on Sixth Street. He opens the passenger door and shoves me inside.

“Where am I taking you?” he demands, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“As if I’d tell you where I live, you psycho! I’m calling the cops,” I seethe, pulling out my phone. “I don’t know what that was back there, but I want no part of it.”

He starts the engine, and the seats vibrate and purr beneath us like some kind of predatory cat. I’m dialing 911 with one hand on the door handle when he moves lightning-fast, tears my phone out of my hand, and throws it in the back seat.

“Stop doing that shit. I’m trying to help you. There are some very bad people coming, so either you tell me where you live, or you’re dead. “

“Dead? What do you mean, dead?” My voice is hysterical. “Who were you talking about? Who’s coming?”

“More like Cyrus. Only worse.” His hands are gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white. “Much worse. So do you want my help or not?”

I stare at him, this stranger who just threw a man across a room, who’s talking about people tracking me and death like it’s all perfectly normal. Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me not to trust him.

But then I remember the way he positioned himself between me and the guy trying to hurt me, and a part of me softens. Somewhere deep down there’s a part of me that recognizes him as something safe rather than a threat.

I don’t understand it. I don’t understand any of this.

So despite every instinct begging me to run, I give him my address.

5

CASSINI

“You’re not coming in,” Lily says, wrapping an oversized cardigan around herself and handing me a beer. “Just because you’re here doesn’t mean I trust you.” She sits down beside me, the porch light casting a warm glow over the rickety wooden front steps.

I’m grateful for the excuse to stay outside. It’s less complicated than explaining why I can’t come in—at least, not without a formal invitation.

I pretend to sip the beer and nod. “You’re calling the shots. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after what happened. Make sure no one followed you here.”

She narrows her eyes. She doesn’t believe me. That’s fair—why would she? I wouldn’t believe me, either. Not after what I just had to do to keep her alive.

But watching Cyrus put his hands on her lit a match inside me and ignited something dangerous. Something primal.

That was reckless. Too reckless. But I was acting on pure instinct. Cyrus I could handle—I’m centuries older than that piece of shit—but the others? I’m not sure. I keep getting weaker and I couldn’t risk a fight with the unknown.

She keeps her gaze locked on me as she slowly takes a sip from the bottle.

If she only knew the real reason.

Stop.

I need to be more careful with my thoughts around her. If she really is what I think she is, then every stray thought could be dangerous. So I focus on the sound of her heartbeat instead, still elevated from the adrenaline, still calling to every predatory instinct I have.

She looks like she has questions but is too afraid to ask them directly. Good—that means she’s afraid, and she should be. That’s smart. Fear will keep her alive.

“That guy tonight,” she says eventually. “What was that back there?”

“Cyrus? He’s just a local drunk. He comes into the shop sometimes and throws his weight around. He’s a low-level criminal thug, likes making threats but doesn’t do much.”