No matter how much she wanted him, he was still dangerous. Panic swelled within her like water at high tide and Michael’s step faltered as though he felt the shift as well. “Sorry, but there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere with you.” No one conned a con artist.
“I’m afraid this isn’t up for discussion.” His voice vibrated through her, and Claire’s bones went soft. “You’re coming with me. End of discussion.”
Claire snorted. Michael was sporting a pair, wasn’t he? She looked to Ronan. “Is he always this pushy?”
Ronan folded his shoulders across his wide chest. “I’m afraid so.”
“Too bad for you, Michael, because I’m just as stubborn as you are pushy. First of all, you lied to me. I don’t appreciate that. Second, I don’t let perfect strangers—not to mention guys who think every day is Halloween—haul me off to god knows where. And third, whether it was self-defense or not, you just killed a man.” Panic flared within her once again, drowning out the sense of elation that had swelled in her chest. She kept her gaze from wandering to the spot on the sidewalk where her assailant lay in a pool of his own blood, and swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat. She had to get away from here. Now. Alone. “Do you what you want, but I’m getting the hell out of here before the police show up and throw us all in jail.”
Michael flashed a superior grin and Claire couldn’t help but notice that his fangs were longer than Ronan’s. He took a step toward her and her body went rigid.
“Easy,” he said as he put the pad of his thumb to the sharp point of one of those fangs, breaking the skin. Blood welled from the wound and Michael reached out, brushing it over the cut that bastard had made on her cheek. Delicious heat suffused her skin and she felt a tug. Her breath hitched and when he pulled away she put her own fingertips to the place he’d just touched to find the skin smooth, the wound instantaneously healed. “Jesus Christ,” she breathed. “What did you just do to me?”#p#分页标题#e#
A rush of smug pleasure radiated from Claire’s center and she was struck with the realization that it wasn’t her pleasure she was feeling. Could this night get any more surreal?
“I’m not concerned about the authorities,” Michael simply replied.
Claire’s jaw hung slack and she gave herself a mental shake. She was losing her edge and needed to get the upper hand. Now. “You should be. When they get an eyeful of your bloody clothes and the dead body over there, you might as well embrace the orange jumpsuit, if you know what I mean.”
Again that look of smug superiority crossed his features and Claire braced her knees to keep them from buckling. Seriously, what was wrong with her? “His brethren will be along shortly to remove any evidence of his death. Which is why we need to leave. No more trifling, no more excuses. You’re coming with me. Now.”
CHAPTER
9
Stubborn female!
Her emotions swung on a pendulum, at once frightened and panicked and a moment later angry and suspicious. In the days since Michael had taken her blood, his heart had begun to slow. It would cease beating altogether in a matter of hours, his internal organs returning to dormancy until he fed again. He refused to drink from any other than this female, which meant he would need to take her blood again. Soon.
“Ronan, get the car. We’re leaving.”
The soft sounds of Ronan’s footsteps faded into the distance as he left to get the car, but Michael kept his gaze locked on his female. As long as his heart still beat and her blood coursed through his veins, he’d be stronger. More capable to protect her. But if he didn’t get her to the safety of his home soon there would be a crowd of slayers they’d have no choice but to fight. Ronan was capable but still only a dhampir. They’d be easily overtaken, and what the Sortiari had failed to do a century ago would be finished once and for all, tonight.
There were so many questions to be answered. She’d called him a liar, though she’d admitted in the midst of her frantic fear that Amy wasn’t her name. What sort of woman was this female whom Michael found himself helplessly drawn to? He’d always assumed that his mate would be strong, intelligent, and honorable. Not to mention a creature of his own ilk. If she was none of these things, how could he possibly love her? To be trapped in a mate bond with a female he found unworthy would be a fate worse than any the Sortiari could conceive of.
He knew her soul, though. And it burned with a bright, pure light. Uncorrupted no matter what she tried to make him believe to the contrary. Perhaps they both had their secrets. So many questions were unanswered, but they’d run out of time.