There was a shit-ton of things to do at Safeside tomorrow—or rather a few hours from now. A food run was a must, a new schedule of duties and...something moved. Her steps slowed and she narrowed her eyes, focusing on the sound. Or did she see something?
No, there was nothing. She shrugged, presuming she was being ridiculous. Keeping the light aimed in front of her she continued walking, now clearing her mind of everything except getting to her destination. The air seemed thicker suddenly, like it was wrapping around her and holding tight, so tight she gasped. And then it moved, and something like pleasure rippled through her and for just an instant she wanted to hold on to it. But almost immediately there was a different presence that pricked her skin with awareness. The contradictions startled her and she tripped, then righted herself.
Her breath came in quick pants now, because the two very distinct feelings were confusing. She hadn’t felt pleasure in far too long, but the other, the itch to stand her ground and fight against whoever might be coming after her, was the norm for the past four years of her life. She reached into the band of her jeans and pulled out her knife, palming the handle in case she needed to jab someone quickly and run. Her first instinct was always to fight, but there were times when flight was the smarter move. With that in mind she hastened her steps, only to stop moments later when warmth flooded her body. She turned suddenly, not seeing anything but whispering, “What do you want?”
She knew he was there.
She always knew, even though she’d never turned to him to ask why he was close or what he wanted. If she had, Steele didn’t know what he would’ve said, because he didn’t know those answers either. There was no explanation for this physical tug that had existed between them since the first moment he’d seen her—at least none he wanted to accept. All he knew was that she was his responsibility and he’d never shirked his responsibility before. He’d be damned if now was going to be the start of something new.
Unless he was already damned.
“Your head on a platter is what I want, bitch!”
The guy from the club lunged from a corner in the alley, slamming his body against her back. She stumbled forward but quickly regained her footing and turned back, legs slightly crouched, knife in her right hand poised to slice.
“You should really learn to quit while you’re ahead,” she snapped back with a shake of her head.
Steele wholeheartedly agreed and he’d said as much to the idiot in their private conversation about half an hour ago when he’d followed the human out of the bar. The guy was either a total idiot or a glutton for punishment, since he’d completely ignored Steele’s warning. The warning that, instead of protecting her, seemed to have put her in harm’s way. Irritated with himself for that, Steele eased from the shadows, fully prepared to make his point perfectly clear this time.
Before that could happen, dumbass guy lunged for her again. He only had the use of one hand since Steele had broken the other one during their earlier chat. But she was agile and easily ducked out of the guy’s reach so that he slammed into the wall instead.
“If this is your idea of foreplay, you’ve gotta rethink your game plan,” she quipped and waited for him to turn around.
She wasn’t running away, even though Steele was certain she could have gotten far from the idiot who’d been drinking and most likely partaking of whatever drugs were being offered at the club. No, she was standing her ground and giving an ass whuppin’ worthy of his praise. If the sight of her wasn’t already embedded in his mind, it would be now.
“I’m gonna love hearing you scream,” the guy said because he really didn’t know when to call it a night.
This time he came toward her, one fist raised as if he really thought he was going to have the chance to punch her. No way was Steele going to let that happen. He could break the guy in two with his bare hands. The beast had been itching for him to do that earlier when he’d watched the man dare to put his hands on her in the club. Now, the beast strained against Steele’s body with a combination of rage and heat that he’d never felt before. Clenching his fists, Steele fought back against his beast, denying its appearance for the sake of all involved. A dark alley in the center of Burgess, Pennsylvania, was no place for a dragon, especially not the one that lived inside of Steele.
She moved again, swinging that knife until she’d sliced the guy’s good wrist and across his belly. Superficial wounds, but enough to have him bending over and howling. In that moment Steele decided to act, regardless of the personal war going on within him. Uncurling his fingers to see that claws had already begun to press through the human nailbeds, he bit back a curse of surprise and made the hasty decision to blow a bit of dream dust in the guy’s direction. Dude’s painful yowls ceased as he fell back onto the ground, out for the count.
“Shit!” She stepped closer to the guy, staring down at him and then back at the knife in her hand. “I didn’t cut him that deep.”
Steele stepped back into the shadows, his leg bumping a trash can as he moved. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him, especially if his beast was adamant about making an appearance. There’d been whispers of preternatural beings on the Human Realm for at least the last forty to fifty years, yet most humans didn’t believe and had never seen any for themselves. Because of their size, lethal strength and
