by Krista Wolf
Damien was looking at the floor now. He said nothing.
“Tell me you got the order? Because I sure didn’t.”
“Broderick, listen—”
The tall man shot to his feet and lunged in Damien’s direction. He shook the wet towel in his face.
“Don’t tell me to listen! Not when you haven’t been listening to a single thing I tell you!”
The whole thing was suddenly beyond uncomfortable. I pulled up the dry part of the T-shirt to wipe my face, realized I’d just exposed most of my body, then edged my way toward Damien’s bedroom.
“And where are you going?” Broderick demanded in a hard, unplacable accent.
“To get dressed?”
“Stay here in a minute,” he ordered. “We need to work this out before you go anywhere.”
Ahhhh. So that was it. I glanced at Damien, then back at Broderick again. Now things really were getting weird.
“Look,” I told them, putting my hands up defensively. “I don’t know what’s going on here, and I’m sorry if I got in the middle of something. As far as I knew, Damien was single. Ready to mingle.”
I couldn’t believe I’d made the joke. It was a one-in-a-thousand shot at levity in a terrible situation. One that fell utterly flat.
“Single?” Broderick looked astonished. “Is that what you think?”
“He never told me he was involved with—”
“Why does she think that?” he yelled, whirling on Damien. “What the hell have you been telling her?”
He was seething now, his big shoulders square and tight. I could see the muscles in his neck, flexing. The outline of his jaw…
Shit.
I gulped hard. All of a sudden there was a lump the size of a baseball in my throat.
He looks just like Alex.
“I haven’t been telling her anything,” Damien countered. “And we’re damned lucky I ran into her at all.” I could see him getting angry now also, or at least trying to. It was a false anger though. A defense mechanism more than anything else.
“Lucky?”
“I brought her back here to protect her, Broderick. I found her in an alley. She was being attacked.”
The taller blonde stopped for a moment. This seemed to change things.
“Who?”
“Boone and Christophe.”
Broderick stiffened. So did I.
“You knew who those guys were?” I demanded of Damien. “And you didn’t say anything?”
He looked disappointed. Like I’d found out something I shouldn’t have. Yet there wasn’t any deception, none that I could sense anyway. It felt almost something like he’d wanted to tell me, but just hadn’t gotten the chance.
“So you brought her back here?” Broderick was asking.
“Yes.”
“And where did she sleep?”
At this, Damien and I both looked at each other. Probably just a little too quickly.
Broderick’s hands were fists now. Controlled fists, but still fists. “Where did she sleep, Damien?”
His voice was low. Gravelly. Seething.
Damien heaved a resigned sigh. “In my room.”
Broderick’s eyes unfocused, his body going totally and utterly still. His complete lack of movement was almost eerie. Like a lighting bolt had flashed… and we were just sitting there, waiting for the thunder.
“In your room?” he growled.
“Yes.”
“And you MATED HER?”
“Mated?” I repeated, turning the word over in my mouth. It tasted as strange as it sounded. “MATED?”
I wasn’t the type of girl who minded getting a little kinky now and then… or let’s face it, even a lot kinky. But whatever was going on here was too bizarre — even for me. I wasn’t sticking around for this.
“Alright, that’s it,” I announced loudly. “Fuck this whole weird scene. I’ve had enough.”
I stormed back into Damien’s room and pulled my clothes on in a flash. I could hear them talking again, but this time lowering their voices. Probably so I wouldn’t hear.
By the time I re-entered the living room, the two of them seemed a lot more calm. Damien had found a shirt somewhere. It was a shame covering him up though.
“Good luck with all of this,” I said, jerking my thumb back and forth between them. “I’m thinking you guys are going to need it.”
No one said a word as I headed for the exit. The two of them actually had their heads hung low. I closed my hand over the doorknob and then I heard it.
“Serena, wait.”
Broderick’s voice. Suddenly he sounded very rational. My hand stopped mid-turn.
I hadn’t told him my name.
“Don’t go.”
It was his sense of sudden calm that turned me around. I looked back at him.
“We have something to tell you,” the tall blonde went on. “The both of us.”
They were different now. The anger had gone out of them, but there was something else. A sense of resignation maybe. And more.
Damien caught my gaze and held me with his eyes. He crossed his well-muscled forearms across his chest and smiled.
“You need to know who are we are…”
About the Author
Krista Wolf is a lover of fantasy, action, and all things paranormal… as well as a hopeless romantic with an insatiably steamy, dirtier side.
She writes suspenseful, mystery-infused stories filled with blistering hot twists and turns. Tales in which headstrong, impetuous heroines are the irresistible force thrown against the immovable object of powerful, alpha heroes.
If you like intelligent and witty paranormal romance served up with a razor-sharp, erotic edge? You’ve just found your new favorite author.
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