Chapter Seven
Standing with her feet planted in the snow, Denne held her favorite gun steady as she pointed the muzzle at the male figure in front of her.
No scent to catch because the wind was at her back, but she had the sense that he was not human.
Maybe it was the sheer size of him. He was taller than her by more than a head, and she was not small.
He also had broad shoulders that tapered into a tight waist, and thick thighs that made him seem sturdy as the trees he’d come out of.
Clothes were nothing special, just jeans and a sweatshirt that were way too light to keep a human warm enough out here. No boots, either, to deal with the snow. But he didn’t seem cold.
And goddamn he was calm as he stared over at her.
Hair was dark and cut with no particular style, neither short nor long. Skin was pale, so were the eyes.
His face was… beautiful.
Such balanced features, the cheekbones prominent, those eyes set deeply under arching brows, the jaw a cut of bone that had an elegant power to it.
Without meaning to, she found herself zeroing in on the jugular vein that ran up the side of his exposed throat.
Then she looked at his lips. They were fuller on the bottom, and didn’t that make her wonder things she had absolutely no reason to think about.
What was his scent like—
“This is none of your business,” she said in a low voice.
“Yes, I know. But maybe you want some help?”
“I don’t, and you need to get the fuck out of here. I know how to use this gun.”
“Yes, you look like you do. For sure.”
And then he just stood there with his arms up some more, his eyes roaming around her face, not that he could see any of it. Gotta love a hoodie.
“Tick-tock, motherfucker,” she prompted. “Time to go—”
“What are you going to do with him? Just leave him here?”
Actually, that was the plan, not that it was any of this stranger’s concern.
The news flash for the human community was easy: A two-bit “boss” playing on the fringes of the Caldwell underworld waking up dead in a stretch of woods where the body wasn’t going to be found until the spring trail runners start pounding the ground? Come on, that was a no-shit-Sherlock.
“Their kind doesn’t incinerate in the sun.” He put his palms out toward her and then lifted them up again. “I mean, you probably already know that. Right? Of course you do. I mean, you killed him so well. Good job.”
Blinking with disbelief, Denne almost lowered her weapon. Was this guy really giving her a gold star for murder?
And guess she was right that he was a vampire.
She shook herself back to attention. “I’m going to shoot you on the count of three. Either you dematerialize out of here, or I’m dropping two bodies in this clearing.”
“Who is he?” The male’s eyes shifted to the passenger side of her truck. “Lot of blood in your cab. Do you have access to a detailer?”
“What?” She cursed. “I mean—one.”
“I’m not sure if I have anybody I could recommend. I don’t have a car so I don’t have any reason to wash them. Inside or out—”
“Do you ever shut up?” She tilted her head. “Like, ever?”
Leave it alone, she told herself. You’ve already volunteered for one stranger’s set of problems tonight.
And she wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw blood on his jeans as well as that dark gray sweatshirt. But it could be a trick of the light, and what part of none-of-your-business did she need to learn for a second time?
The male laughed a little. “I don’t talk, really.”
“I find that very hard to believe.”
“No, it’s true.” He shrugged even though his hands were still in a this-is-a-stickup position. “Everybody’s always trying to get me to say something.”
“So you’re getting your quota out all at once here? With a gun pointed at your chest.”
“You’re aiming at my head now,” he corrected.
“And I guess so—hey, were you careful about security monitoring? When you took him or killed him? The dark windows are great, but what about the circumstances of the abduction or murder? Do you want to tell me? No? Well, cameras are everywhere these days, and humans have eyes and can be complicating.”
What the hell was he saying—wait, what number was she on?
“Three,” she snapped.
He leaned in and dropped his voice, like he didn’t want to embarrass her in front of all the pine trees. “You’d just started counting. We’re on ‘two.’ ”
“Do you think I won’t shoot you.”
“Not at all.” His eyes went back to the dead guy on the ground and he nodded downward. Like in case she’d forgotten the corpse was two feet from them. “We have prima facie evidence you’re good with that kind of thing.”
Clearing her throat, she decided to be reasonable. “I don’t know what your deal is. But you need to get the fuck out of here—”
“Are you sure you scrubbed any and all possible footage? If you want to give me the location of the… incident, so to speak, I’d be happy to look into it—”
There was a sudden flare in the sky, so bright it was as if a strike of lightning had come out of nowhere. Or maybe a nuke had been dropped on the Financial District.
Denne tilted her head back to the shockingly clear, super starry sky that had been revealed by the blizzard’s abrupt departure. When she saw what was making the brilliant celestial light show, her heart dropped and she even rubbed her eyes just in case she was seeing things incorrectly.
Nope. Sure wasn’t.
Directly overhead, two brilliant lines of fire were streaking across the velvet heavens in a collision course, one from the east, one from the west. The shooting stars were so big, so brilliant, that they drowned out all of the other twinklers, and they lingered as if demanding she see the show for long enough so that she couldn’t deny it.
When the two opposing forces met, there was a blinding flare that made her eyes sting, and as the illumination faded, she looked at the male standing across from her.
“What time is it,” she asked in a dead voice.
He was immediately step-and-fetch-it with the answer, yanking out a phone. “Nine nineteen.”
Denne lowered the gun with a curse. For the last ten years, she’d known that this moment was coming, but it was too soon. Way too soon. Or at least it felt that way.
Then again, it could have been a hundred years from now and she would have still thought her curse was early on arrival.
“Are you all right?” the male asked.
As he took a step toward her, she lifted the gun back up.
And pulled the trigger.