8. Jasmine #2
“How close?” Landon’s voice drops an octave.
“About a hundred feet back. Picking up speed.”
“Where are you?”
“Behind Briar Hall. Cutting toward West Commons.”
“Good. Turn right at the next maintenance shed. You’ll see an alley between the dumpster and the brick wall with the spray paint dicks. I’ll meet you there.”
“I swear to God, if this is a setup and you’re gonna murder me?—”
“Peach,” he growls. “Just move.”
I jump at his command and push my short legs to walk even faster than before.
I almost slam into the wall as I turn into the alley, shadowed by the academic buildings, narrow and lined with broken glass and the stench of wet metal.
My boots echo off the walls as I hurry down it, breath catching in my throat when I hear the man’s footsteps behind me picking up so much speed, I almost trip and fall over my own two feet trying to keep as much space between us as possible.
I glance over my shoulder.
He’s there, my stubby legs burning as I try to move faster than I am humanly capable of. My heart slams against my ribs as I stumble forward, nearly tripping over a loose bottle.
“Landon,” I hiss into the phone. “Where the hell are you?—”
I spin around again preparing to claw his fucking eyes out when my eyes lock onto the scariest, and possibly hottest scene I have ever seen in my life.
Landon has the man by the throat, slammed against the graffiti-tagged brick wall like a ragdoll.
One hand locked tight around the man’s windpipe, the other pressed flat against his chest like he’s pinning a moth to a board.
The guy’s feet dangle, heels kicking against the wall with short, panicked jerks.
Landon’s face is blank. Cold in a way I have never seen, and probably would shit my pants if that look was ever directed at me.
“Lan—” I start, but he doesn’t look at me.
His voice is low, barely more than a growl. “You thought you could touch what is mine? ”
The man wheezes, eyes bulging, lips turning a sick shade of gray.
“You thought I wouldn’t find you? That I won’t eradicate a wasteman like you?” Landon snarls, slamming him harder into the wall, brick dust puffing out behind his head. “That I wouldn’t rip you apart in the middle of this alley and leave your body for the fucking raccoons?”
“Landon!” I rush forward, grabbing his arm. “ Stop! ”
He still doesn’t look at me. His finger flexing along the man’s windpipe as if this is nothing, as if attempted murder isn’t a horrific thing.
“Landon, please. ” My voice cracks. “You’re gonna kill him.”
His eyes finally flick to mine—and for a second, I don’t recognize them. That ocean-blue is swallowed in darkness, and it feels like looking into the eye of a storm that wants to destroy something just to feel calm again.
But then…He blinks. Breathes. The pressure in his hand loosens slightly.
The man gasps, sucking in air like it’s the last thing he’ll ever taste.
Landon leans in, so close the guy flinches like a dog expecting a bullet.
“You’re still breathing because she told me to stop,” Landon whispers in a dramatic manner, that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand, and the man below him quivers, eyes darting to me as if I am his only salvation. “Now do the smart thing.”
He shoves the man to the ground. “ Thank her. ”
The guy scrambles up on all fours, wheezing. “T-thank you,” he croaks at me, face twisted with terror, before bolting like the ground behind him might explode.
Landon watches him disappear. Then turns to me.
His chest is rising hard. His hands still flexing like they’re reluctant to be empty.
I don’t move. Don’t speak. I just stare at him—this man who smells like salt and smoke and violence, who holds people like they’re weapons and yet listens when I say stop. I stare at him like he holds the answers to life, because he holds more secrets to the universe than I do.
“Peach…” His voice lowers, rough with adrenaline and need. “You did good. You called me.”
“I didn’t know who else to call.”
He steps closer. His hand grazes my jaw. Just once. Just long enough for the heat to replace the panic.
“You were a good girl for me,” he murmurs, voice gone dark and gravel-thick—like whiskey poured over fire. “You listened. You trusted me.”
“You’re supposed to protect me.” I say just above a whisper, as his hand curls around the back of my neck, rough and steady, pulling me into the space where his breath hits mine. He smells like smoke and rain and danger barely held together with skin.
“Well, then Peach, I am going to need you to do something else.” He whispers against my lips, stealing every ounce of oxygen from me.
“What?”
“Kiss me,” he breathes, his grip tightening in my hair. My heart jumps out of my chest as I look at the ocean in his lidded eyes. “To keep the monster quiet. He’s…loud tonight.”
“Landon—” I gasp, instinctively pulling back, but his hand is already at my waist, anchoring me in place.
“I would never hurt you,” he growls, low and deadly-soft, voice scraping against my jaw like a blade dragged over silk. “But you made me release my prey, Peach. How am I supposed to feed him now?”
My breath catches as his mouth ghosts the edge of my skin. My body ignites, panic and want bleeding together into something molten.
“Just a kiss?” I whisper, catching his gaze—no longer oceanic, but nearly black.
His lips barely move. “Just a taste.”
I blink. Once. Twice. And then I nod.
I don’t mean to.
But it’s already too late.
His mouth crashes into mine with no warning, no hesitation— all need. It's not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s devastation.
He crashes into me with a hunger that feels like war—like he’s fighting something inside himself and I’m the only weapon that works. His mouth moves over mine like it belongs there, like he’s claiming territory, tongue rough and deep, pulling breath after breath from me until I’m dizzy.
My fingers claw at the front of his shirt before I even realize I’ve moved, gripping him like I’ll fall without him. He groans low in his chest, something primal and broken, and deepens the kiss until I swear the ground tips sideways.
His teeth catch my bottom lip—sharp enough to sting—and I gasp. He swallows the sound, pulling me tighter, pressing me into the wall like he wants to bury himself in me , and for one terrifying, electric second, I let him.
I let it consume me.
I let him consume me.
I feed the fucking beast.