His eyes narrowed. And he started hunting her again.
Connor ran fast, cutting right through the alley, following the thud of her footsteps and the faint scent that hung in the air. A scent that was pure Chloe. His heart beat faster—faster than it had when he’d been fighting that jerk—because the thrill of the hunt always excited his beast. Chloe knew that, she should have taken care. Her mistake.
He rounded the corner up ahead. The beat of music was getting louder. He could hear laughter. Voices. He saw that Chloe had nearly reached the bar. She probably thought that if she could just get inside, get to the humans, then he wouldn’t follow her.
She was dead wrong.
But then, he wasn’t going to give her the chance to reach them.
He could see her easily now. Just a few more feet, and she’d break free of the darkness that clung to the alleys and the nooks near the buildings. She’d be able to run out onto the street. Be right in front of the bar.
Not going to happen, baby.
He shot forward and grabbed her arm. But Chloe swung around, a broken bottle in her hand.
He growled.
She yelled.
He knocked that bottle right out of her hand. I’m the one saving her ass…and she’s trying to attack me? Anger boiled within him. The bottle had crashed, splintered on the ground. He pushed Chloe up against the nearest wall. His hands wrapped around her wrists, and he penned them to the wall. “Is that really how you say thanks? By trying to cut me open?” He kept his voice low and he made sure to keep them in the shadows. The last thing he wanted was some do-gooder human coming around.
Her breath panted out as she heaved in his hold. He didn’t let her go.
“I…I didn’t realize it was you.”
Right. He could actually buy that. Seeing as how she kept having werewolves stalk her, she truly might have thought someone else was after her.
“It’s me,” he told her grimly. “You ran from me.”
He could see every beautiful detail of her face, even in the darkness. He had perfect vision—perfectly enhanced vision. There was no missing the fear in her expression. He didn’t like Chloe’s fear. Even when he was pissed at her, Connor didn’t want her to be afraid.
“You know I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice a low rasp.
“Then let me go.”
If only things were that simple. “I can’t.”
Her lips trembled. Her lips were the first thing he’d noticed about her—they were full and red. The kind of lips that instantly made him think of sex. Then he’d gotten caught in her eyes. No one should have eyes that blue. Maybe it was because her hair was so dark, a perfect black, and, in contrast to that darkness, her eyes appeared to be such a bright, electric blue.
Her face was heart-shaped, her cheekbones almost ridiculously high. She had a small nose and a slightly pointed chin. Her skin was pale, probably because the Para Unit had been keeping her in various stages of isolation and she hadn’t exactly been free to roam in the outside world and soak up a bit of sunshine.
But that was what happened when you killed a man…and when you rose from the dead. You get monitored by the Para Unit.
Chloe Quick wasn’t supposed to be in front of him. She’d died a few weeks ago. Not some near-death BS, either. She’d been knifed in the heart. She’d died.
Then she’d come back, thanks to the dark wish of a djinn. Only now, the Para Unit didn’t exactly know what Chloe was.
“I warned you not to escape,” he told her. The other werewolf had been right. Her scent was damn near intoxicating, and if he’d just been a werewolf, he probably would have been nearly mindless in his desire to claim her.
But he wasn’t just a wolf, and that was why Eric Pate had given him guard duty with Chloe. Because I’m supposed to be able to control my baser impulses. But if that were truly the case, would he be holding her so carefully, his fingers sliding over her wrists, his body pushing ever closer to hers?
And would his c**k be so heavy with arousal?
“I can disappear,” Chloe promised him, her voice breathless. “Just give me a head start. I’ll vanish and I promise, the Para Unit won’t ever have to worry about me again.”
Part of him wanted to let her go. It was her eyes…that gaze could make a man—or a paranormal—weak.
He didn’t know exactly what end game Eric had planned for Chloe, but if Connor let her vanish, then he’d be the one paying for it. His freedom hinged on his doing this mission, and no one—not even a woman as sexy as she was—would stop him.
Connor shook his head. “No head start. You don’t escape from me.”
Then he heard footsteps—people approaching. Dammit. His head turned and he saw three men stumbling toward him. Their scents marked them as human, and in another instant, they’d see him and Chloe.
He felt Chloe tense against him. He knew she wasn’t going to just let this opportunity pass by. She was going to scream and no doubt bring those drunken fools running. Then he’d just have to hurt them.
Before she could scream, before those fools could rush to her aid, he lowered his head, and he kissed her.
She bit his lip.
Deep inside, his wolf growled in pleasure.
Chloe, no, you know the beast likes things like that.
She strained against him. She opened her mouth, as if to scream even then—and his tongue swept inside.
He’d known for a while that he wanted her. Most men looked at Chloe Quick and wanted her. But until that moment, until he’d had his first taste of her, he hadn’t realized just how truly dangerous she could be to him.
Because something happened. To him. To her. He felt her body stiffen, felt shock rock through them both. Because the desire that came right then—as he kissed her, as his tongue slid into her mouth and she actually f**king kissed him back—was unlike anything he’d felt before. It was as if a match had been ignited, and that small flame turned into an explosion, consuming him.
He couldn’t get close enough to her. Couldn’t kiss her deeply enough. His hands let hers go so that he could touch more of her. He had to touch her. His fingers curled around her waist, and he lifted her up against him. Chloe was so small and delicate compared to him. Chloe curled her legs around him, arching toward him. Her nails sank into his shoulders, and she kissed him with a fierce desire that matched his own.
His c**k shoved against his zipper. He needed his jeans out of the way. Needed her na**d so that he could thrust deep and hard into her. Needed—