I’m thinking of running. And I’m thinking hard about running, easing toward the bedroom door while my brain tries to estimate the distance without looking, not to mention the relative speed of my fleet-footed suit versus his heavy stomping boots.
I break for it.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He dashes toward me and catches me at the door.
I swing around hard and go for his throat. My hand makes contact with the underside of his chin, and I pull for all I’m worth. For a split second, his life energy rushes into me, but then just as fast, it pulls back, like an undertow sucking me in. I yank my hand away, but by then he’s got my wrists, one in each hand. I stumble backward across the threshold into the hall, and he’s pushing me as well. I lose my footing, but then he hoists me up and shoves me against the wall, hands pinned on either side over my head.
Holy shit. Holy shit. I’m gasping with fear.
His brutal dark eyes are boring into mine. He’s got me by the wrists, over my suit, so there’s no skin contact between us. I could try to worm my way into touching him, but I’ve already had a taste of that… and it wasn’t good. I think about the gun Hughes dropped. But it’s in the bedroom, miles away.
Before I can think of what to say, he rakes his gaze over my suit and says, “You know, you’re really too beautiful to kill.”
I choke for a moment, then throw back. “Good thing you’re not.” I twist in his grasp and bring up my knee, trying to catch him between the legs, but I miss the soft parts and jab him in a thigh that feels ridiculously solid. I don’t think I hurt him, but he growls anyway and pins my legs to the wall with his. Which brings him far too close, breathing hard on my face.
He’s definitely more pissed now. “You could, however, change my mind about the killing part.”
My heart is pounding so hard, I’m sure he can feel it pulsing in my wrists.
“Maybe you should try it,” I say, wondering why I can’t control my mouth better. But Hughes’s life energy swims inside me, pumping me up, making me want to fight for my life.
He laughs a little and shakes his head. His face is close enough that my wild hair floats forward to tickle it. He blows the strand away, then the corner of his mouth tips up, like he thinks it’s funny. “What am I going to do with you, wild girl?”
I stare him right in the eyes. “How about if you fuck off?” If he tries to drain me, this time I’ll be ready for that life energy tug-of-war. And I plan to kick the shit out of him in the process.
He smirks. “Right.”
But then the pressure of his hands on my wrists eases. He slowly backs two steps away, holding his hands up. He’s not surrendering—he’s trying to keep me from bolting.
“Easy, now,” he says, like I’m that wild animal in the bathroom again. “You run, I’m just going to catch you again.”
I don’t think I scared him off with my bravado and smack talk. I don’t really understand what’s happening at all, but I slowly lower my arms from where he held them against the wall. Now that I’m not pinned, some of my rationality comes back. I should be bargaining my way out of this.
“I only drained a little from Hughes,” I say, “but you’re welcome to the rest. We can call it even, and I’ll just be on my way.”
The smile is deep on his face. “You just broke into his house, didn’t you?” he asks, ignoring my offer.
I swallow. “Wasn’t hard.” My heart rate is stepping down. He doesn’t look quite so savage, now that he’s not talking about killing me. More just rugged in a smirky I-forgot-to-shave kind of way. Which makes me think he might not actually kill me. Right away, at least. There must be something he wants or he would be letting me go.
He looks me over again, but this time it’s more curious, less ravaging. “What’s with the suit?”
“Same as your trenchcoat, I imagine.”
He smiles wider, like this is all a game to him. “A
I break for it.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He dashes toward me and catches me at the door.
I swing around hard and go for his throat. My hand makes contact with the underside of his chin, and I pull for all I’m worth. For a split second, his life energy rushes into me, but then just as fast, it pulls back, like an undertow sucking me in. I yank my hand away, but by then he’s got my wrists, one in each hand. I stumble backward across the threshold into the hall, and he’s pushing me as well. I lose my footing, but then he hoists me up and shoves me against the wall, hands pinned on either side over my head.
Holy shit. Holy shit. I’m gasping with fear.
His brutal dark eyes are boring into mine. He’s got me by the wrists, over my suit, so there’s no skin contact between us. I could try to worm my way into touching him, but I’ve already had a taste of that… and it wasn’t good. I think about the gun Hughes dropped. But it’s in the bedroom, miles away.
Before I can think of what to say, he rakes his gaze over my suit and says, “You know, you’re really too beautiful to kill.”
I choke for a moment, then throw back. “Good thing you’re not.” I twist in his grasp and bring up my knee, trying to catch him between the legs, but I miss the soft parts and jab him in a thigh that feels ridiculously solid. I don’t think I hurt him, but he growls anyway and pins my legs to the wall with his. Which brings him far too close, breathing hard on my face.
He’s definitely more pissed now. “You could, however, change my mind about the killing part.”
My heart is pounding so hard, I’m sure he can feel it pulsing in my wrists.
“Maybe you should try it,” I say, wondering why I can’t control my mouth better. But Hughes’s life energy swims inside me, pumping me up, making me want to fight for my life.
He laughs a little and shakes his head. His face is close enough that my wild hair floats forward to tickle it. He blows the strand away, then the corner of his mouth tips up, like he thinks it’s funny. “What am I going to do with you, wild girl?”
I stare him right in the eyes. “How about if you fuck off?” If he tries to drain me, this time I’ll be ready for that life energy tug-of-war. And I plan to kick the shit out of him in the process.
He smirks. “Right.”
But then the pressure of his hands on my wrists eases. He slowly backs two steps away, holding his hands up. He’s not surrendering—he’s trying to keep me from bolting.
“Easy, now,” he says, like I’m that wild animal in the bathroom again. “You run, I’m just going to catch you again.”
I don’t think I scared him off with my bravado and smack talk. I don’t really understand what’s happening at all, but I slowly lower my arms from where he held them against the wall. Now that I’m not pinned, some of my rationality comes back. I should be bargaining my way out of this.
“I only drained a little from Hughes,” I say, “but you’re welcome to the rest. We can call it even, and I’ll just be on my way.”
The smile is deep on his face. “You just broke into his house, didn’t you?” he asks, ignoring my offer.
I swallow. “Wasn’t hard.” My heart rate is stepping down. He doesn’t look quite so savage, now that he’s not talking about killing me. More just rugged in a smirky I-forgot-to-shave kind of way. Which makes me think he might not actually kill me. Right away, at least. There must be something he wants or he would be letting me go.
He looks me over again, but this time it’s more curious, less ravaging. “What’s with the suit?”
“Same as your trenchcoat, I imagine.”
He smiles wider, like this is all a game to him. “A
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