Twilight Hunter

made breathing even more difficult. Finally the bell dinged and the doors opened. She scrambled out and ran for the penthouse door.

Jace brushed past her, unlocked the door and charged into the room without a word. She slipped in behind him as he strode straight to the bedroom, quickly stripping off his boots and his leather coat. She wandered toward her bag on the far side of the room. Something had to give. She couldn’t handle this sort of tension, not the entire time she was trying to train him.

It was her own fault, of course. In less than twenty-four hours he’d found out that she’d both lied to him about her position and neglected to tell him she was engaged. Now he needed to know the rest of the truth.

“Look, Jace. Can I just explain?”

He set down his boots on the white carpeting and placed his hands on his hips. “There’s nothing to say. Don’t waste your breath.”

A heavy weight pushed down on her shoulders. She couldn’t let him think she was a cheater or that Alejandro mattered to her the way Jace no doubt thought he did. She’d never cheated at anything in her life, and aside from lying about her name, she’d never even lied before. Brutal honesty: that was what she prided herself on. With him so angry, though, how could she get him to listen, much less believe her?

She picked up her backpack and walked into the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she stripped down and changed into a pair of yoga pants and a fresh white tank top. When she finished changing, she stared in the mirror for a long moment before she twisted on the faucet and splashed cold water over her face.

Enough.

She turned off the sink, threw open the bathroom door and marched back into the bedroom.

“I’m not his wife or his fiancee.”

Jace glanced in her direction, then away. “Frankie, give it a rest.”

“No. You’re going to listen to me. I have something to say. I don’t care whether or not you want to hear it, or whether or not you care. I need to say it, damn it.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

He didn’t look at her.

“I’ve been slated to be Alejandro’s mate since the time I hit puberty, but I’ve never had any feelings for him beyond friendship. I love him, Jace, but I’m not in love with him. Our...engagement, if you want to call it that, doesn’t—didn’t—mean what you think. I know you don’t want any sort of relationship with me. I get it. You’ve made that abundantly clear. But I want you to know that I never intended to cheat on anyone, and if I hurt you, I never meant to, because I never chose to be with Alejandro. I don’t regret being with you, not one bit, because for once in my life I got to choose who I wanted to be with. I just wanted you to know that.”

Jace stared at the floor before he stripped off his shirt and lay down on the bed.

A wave of heat rushed through her as she scanned the lines of his body. The muscles in his chest flexed as he breathed, and his biceps tightened as he rest his hands behind his head. She forced herself to look away. He didn’t want her.

“Tomorrow you can start teaching me how to shift,” he said.

* * *

ROBERT SAT AGAINST the wall of the warehouse and watched his victim’s eyes flicker open, only for her to shy away from the light. A dim lone bulb hung over her head, casting shadows across the room, figures lurking like demons in the dark. He sat quietly and observed her reactions. She tried to roll her shoulders, to stretch, but she couldn’t move. She glanced up. Her wrists were shackled together above her head. Wrenching her arms, she tried to fight against the restraints. Her whole body swayed. She looked at her feet. The toes of her flats barely scuffed the surface of the concrete beneath her. Her lip quivered as if she were about to burst into tears.

Pathetic really. Just heartbreaking enough to be vomit-inducing.

She struggled against the shackles. After several minutes her muscles slackened and she hung from the ceiling, rocking like a pig waiting for slaughter.

Slowly he sauntered to her side, his footsteps echoing through the warehouse. The gleaming silver of his blade flashed in the dim lighting as he pushed the weapon against her windpipe.

“Finally awake.”

Blood trickled down her collarbone. The delicious red of a ripe fall apple. He drew the blade away from her throat and stepped in front of her. “I’m glad you decided to grace me with your consciousness. I’ve been waiting.”

“Please, let me go.” She closed her eyes and muttered a small prayer. But God wouldn’t help her. Not here.

He laughed. “Why would I go through the trouble of keeping you alive if I was just going to let you go?” He stepped into her, his body flush against hers. “You’re not getting off so easy. I need you to bring Frankie to me. One of her fellow pack members in danger. She won’t be able to resist.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t understand. She won’t come for me. She—”

“Shut up.” He clutched a single hand around her throat.

She obliged and closed her mouth. When he was certain he felt her fear pulsing beneath his hand, he released her throat and stepped away from her.

“What do you want with her?” she said.

Robert laughed. “Do you even need to ask?” He picked up a nearby wrench.

“Honestly, I really do. I—”

He threw the tool at her full force. She screamed, though the metal hit the ground a foot away and barely skidded into her foot. He frowned. He’d always been shitty at throwing anything other than daggers, and it was starting to piss him off. He cracked his knuckles.

“Don’t play dumb with me, bitch.” He let out a feral growl. “I know your packmaster has been fucking around with Jace.”

She inhaled a sharp breath. “The hunter,” she said.

Robert sneered. “Yes, the hunter.” He paused, and ran his eyes up and down her body, then moved toward her again. Pressing himself against her, he buried his nose in the crook of her neck. The sweet smell disgusted him, but there was another scent, as well. “I smell a human....” He nearly touched his nose to hers as he leaned in and said, “I can tell.”

She let out a sob.

“Would you stop making that awful, ugly face?” He stepped away from her and walked across the room to sit on an empty wooden crate. “I’ve always hated you women and your overly dramatic feelings.”

“You’re just another disgusting misogynist.”

Robert grinned and examined her as if she’d become suddenly interesting. “You’re right. I do hate women.”

She huffed. “What? Mommy never loved you when you were a baby?”

The twisted smile on his face faded into a scowl. “My mother was a werewolf whore, just like you. My mother used to take men into her room every night. She told me to ignore the noises, that they were just playing games.” He pushed around a small pile of dirt with the toe of his shoe. “I believed her—for a while.”

“You’re pathetic, and your mommy issues are no excuse for killing and torturing women.”

He looked up from the floor and stared at her. “You’re right. None of that is my mother’s fault. I absolve her of all blame for my crimes.” He stood and marched toward her. “I do what I do because I enjoy it, all of my own accord.” He pulled out his knife again.

She cringed. All the muscles in her body tightened, preparing for the pain.

“I won’t bleed you dry just yet.”

She sucked in a deep breath.

“I’ll wait for when Frankie and Jace get here. But listen to me when I say no one...calls...me...pathetic.” He slashed his knife through the air and across her right cheekbone. A surge of power and energy shot through him, and he relished every drop of it.

Blood ran down her face as she screamed. The liquid trickled over her neck and onto her green shirt, staining the fabric a putrid brown. He stood back and marveled at the sight.

As casually as if he’d been talking to the cashier at a grocery store, he smiled. “I’ll be back soon. Enjoy.”