Now what was she supposed to say to that? Especially since the guy was right?
His hand slid down her face and his fingers curled over her throat. His palm pushed against her pulse. He didn’t hurt her, not like he’d hurt the cop, but Sarah tensed, knowing just how dangerous he could be.
I saw the photos. He’s killed before. Without remorse. Fast, brutal. I know what he can do.
That’s why she had come to him.
When a girl was caught between hell and a hard place, she needed the devil to help her out.
“Who are you?” He breathed the words against her. “Not some angel come to save me in my dark hour of need . . .”
Hardly. She managed to lift her chin. “Let go of me and I’ll tell you everything.” Almost everything. Okay, not even almost, but at least the important parts.
A deep laugh rumbled from him. “Think you’re tough, do you?” But his hand fell away.
She sucked in a sharp breath. Tough? Not anymore. “Sarah. I’m Sarah King.” Her name would tell him nothing. It wasn’t who she was that mattered. No, it was what she was.
“And what brought you to my cell, sweet Sarah?”
Now this was the tricky part. “I saw your story on the news.”
“And you decided to run down to the station and give a killer an alibi?” One brow rose. “What a good Samaritan you are.” The sarcasm dripped all over her.
Her hands clenched into fists. “You didn’t kill John.”
Now he was the one to tense. “John,” he repeated the name softly. “You knew him.”
“I—”
“Don’t lie.” The words snapped like a whip. “You might think you know about the supernaturals in this world, but you don’t. We’ve got secrets—secrets humans can’t even begin to guess.” His lips twisted. “I heard the way you said his name. You knew him.”
Yes, and she didn’t like thinking about John’s death. “You didn’t kill him,” she repeated.
“And how do you know that?” He looked around them, his gaze sweeping to the left and the right.
They probably shouldn’t stay out in the open much longer. She knew she had to make this quick. She had to get Lucas to take her with him and to keep her by his side. Day and night.
Sarah exhaled slowly. “John was at your house because he wanted protection.” True.
“What?”
“He was being hunted and he knew that you could keep him safe.” Knew, hoped, same thing.
If only Lucas had been home in those early hours before dawn. Then her friend wouldn’t be dead, dammit, and she wouldn’t be on her own again.
Life sucks. Deal with it—and try to keep living. Her mantra since she was seventeen.
“Keep him safe . . . from what?”
A twig snapped. Sarah jumped but Lucas didn’t move.
“Squirrel,” he said softly, without even looking.
She was nervous as all hell. It was starting to get dark, and she knew exactly what kinds of creatures came out once the darkness trickled across the sky. “We should go . . . get out of the open.”
He didn’t move. “I’m not the running type.”
If you were one of the baddest of the bad, you didn’t have to run. You could stay and fight and kick some good old ass.
But, if you were human or . . . a weaker supernatural, you learned early that it paid to run. And run fast.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Lucas demanded. “Why was that guy—John—coming to me for protection?” A line pulled down his brows and his right hand rose to rub along the jagged edge of his ear. “Pack protects pack, but that wasn’t shifter blood dripping down my steps.”
She flinched. Be strong. Life sucks, just like vampires. Yeah vamps were real, too. All the monsters that people feared—they existed.
Lucas’s hand dropped. “He was human.”
“No, he wasn’t.” Time for her big confession. “And neither am I.” Okay, just say it. “Lucas, I need you to—”
His nostrils flared. Then he jerked her behind him in a move she barely felt, much less saw. “Lucas? What—”
“We’re not alone.”
She heard the growl then. The hair-raising sound came from the thicket of trees that Lucas faced, hands loose at his sides, his body still.
The dark hadn’t fallen yet.
But it looked like the monsters had decided it was time to come out and play.
Chapter 2
They sprang from the bushes, bodies tense, fur up, snarls on their lips. Two coyotes with muddy brown coats and red-rimmed eyes. Saliva dripped off their teeth. Their bushy tails brushed the ground as they crouched, preparing to attack.
Oh, damn, damn, damn.
Sarah grabbed the back of Lucas’s shirt. Her nails ripped through the fabric. “You need to shift!” What was the guy waiting for? Two against one! Not the best odds. They didn’t have time to waste. The change from man to beast wasn’t instantaneous and those coyotes were less than ten feet away and—
They attacked.
Sarah didn’t bother screaming. She bent low, her fingers automatically going for her ankle sheath. The knife might not be much, but it was all she had. And the weapon had saved her ass more than a few times.
Lucas grunted when the first beast came at him. He didn’t retreat, didn’t so much as stumble. He just lifted his arm, caught the coyote around the neck, and threw him against a tree.
“Come on,” he said, and Sarah blinked, realizing he wasn’t talking to her. He was inviting the second shifter—because Sarah knew they weren’t being attacked by simple animals, no, these creatures had the minds of men—to attack.
Inviting the attack? Maybe the wolf shifter was psychotic, after all. Figured. That would be her luck.
The beast’s pointed ears twitched. He let out a loud barking cry, then he sprang forward.
Lucas raised his hand and his claws—claws that Sarah had hoped never to see so close to her—sank into the coyote’s body.
The creature fell, hard, his body thumping into the ground as blood darkened his brown fur.
Color her impressed. Sarah pushed her knife back into the sheath and rose quickly. “Nice job.”
Lucas glanced back at her and growled.
The wolf was in his eyes, glowing brightly. Lucas might not have shifted fully, but he’d definitely let his beast off the leash a bit.
The bloody coyote pushed to his feet with a whimper.
“What the hell is going on?” Lucas demanded as his gaze flew back to the other shifter. “You bastards know who I am and you know you’re damn well supposed to stay out of my territory.”