Page 48 of Nightshades

“It’s just a coffee. I promise it won’t take much of your time.”

I snarl in my chest, and this time, the thunderous gravel is louder than I intend it to be. They both look around, wanting to know where the sound came from.

Her eyes lock onto mine again, staring straight into the pit of my soul.

“What was that?” he asks, jerking his head to the left and right.

I curl a lip in disgust when I smell his fear. Not even Lula is afraid. Cautious, yes, but I think that has more to do with him than me.

“Probably just the storm coming in. Listen, I’m not interested. I only want to focus on my job. I hope you understand. I need to go. I’m on an assignment for work. I hope you have a good day.” She takes a step to walk away from him, giving him a slight wave of her delicate fingers that I’m dying to feel wrapped around my cock.

He snags her wrist, tugging her back. “Listen, bitch?—”

In a move I don’t expect, she twists around, locks an arm around his throat, and applies pressure to the point he can’t breathe.

“No, you listen,puta,”she states, adding more pressure when he begins to struggle.

I growl, giving myself a firm stroke at the sight of Lula putting this man in his place.

“I could arrest you for assaulting a police officer if I wanted to. You need to learn when someone says no. It means no. Period. I said no, and you know what, it’s not because I don’t want to date. I just don’t want to date a man like you. Pushy, cowardly, and stupid. I have standards.” She hits him in the gut, and he doubles over, spit dripping from his mouth.

Desire burns in my veins like a river of molten lava, heated to my core for Lula and her violence.

“I don’t want to be able to take down a man I’m interested in so easily.” She shoves him away, his feet tripping over one another as they catch a loose lace from his shoe, and he stumbles until he finally falls.

He smashes his jaw against the pavement, and the scent of his blood has my stomach turning. I’m starved for blood. My fangs lengthen, my vision zeroing in on the vein at the side of Lula’s neck.

With every pulse, my mouth waters. The need to claim, bite, mark, fuck, own, and ruin her for anyone else is all I can think about. I’m starved for her blood. I’m going to have to steal it for myself tonight.

She’ll understand.

“I’m going to sue you and the department.”

Lula points down the empty street. “If you take this street another block down, you’ll see the department. Have a great day.” She gives him a big, bright smile—another item of hers thatbelongs to me—and walks away, her ponytail swaying from the saunter of her hips.

“That bitch.” He pushes himself to his feet, brushing off his jeans of any dirt.

I’m torn about what to do. Do I follow Lula? Or do I follow the man who just threatened my mate and touched her?

Growing more irritated by the second, I decide to follow him. From the looks of it, Lula can protect herself, which has me puffing out my chest with pride. I know I can protect her in every way, and that’s what I have been doing for us. I hope she will understand when she learns the truth.

But watching her handle herself like she just did makes me wonder how she will handle me—if she dares to try.

I come out of the tree line, holding my bag of bones in one hand and clenching my fist with the other. So many different ways to kill him are coming to mind.

Do I kill him with my bare hands? Torture him? Kill him by his greatest fear? Do I make it last? Or do I make it quick? The faster I’m done, the sooner I can go see Lula or kill another suspect from her case files.

I’ve been dying to make myself at home in the spare bedroom.

I wonder if she’s caught on to my plan that everyone in her life is a target.

Stepping out from the tree line, I follow behind him, my shadow growing next to me, waiting to engulf him in nightmares. I am curious what a man like him fears. His scent tells me he puts on a brave face, but really, he’s scared of everything.

Which only makes my mouth water for the taste of how strong his fear will be. I bet I’ll get drunk off his false bravado, swaying to the screams I’ll force from him.

The overcast of the clouds begins to rumble, the promise of more rain. I don’t know what it is about this little mountain town, but it rains more than usual.

I unzip the bag carrying Greta’s bones, wishing I had added part of Fireopal to my treasure chest. Maybe next time. I flick a few flesh-eating beetles from what used to be Greta’s award-winning smile and pry her mouth open to grab my pack of cigarettes.