Page 70 of Shiver


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Faolán moved forward then, looming over the man curled up in a ball, and I crouched down over him. I took Sean’s chin in my hand and tilted his face up so he was looking at me, and as the rain washed the blood down his face to hit the pavement, I aimed a sinister smile at him and said, “From now on, it might do you some good to remember who sits on the throne inside these walls. Who holds the keys to this kingdom you wish to be a part of, and who runs this city you live in. And if I ever hear that you’ve looked at, talked to, or gone near Jesse again, I will make sure my face is the last you see. Because a King who is caught alone with a Wolfe and his pack is still merely a man. Remember that, and nod if you understand.”

Sean’s eyes narrowed, but then he nodded, and as I straightened, I reached into my pocket, took out his keys, and dropped them on the ground by his head.

“Good. I don’t ever want to see you again. Consider the fact you can still walk away my parting gift to you.”

I turned around, headed toward the back door, and snapped my fingers, and Faolán finally left his post, running to follow in his alpha’s wake. Our job here was done.

22

“Good work this week, Jesse,” Dr. Marks said, as I packed up my new messenger bag with the reading material he’d given me for the weekend. One of his collaborators on the upcoming dinosaur exhibition would be going on maternity leave in two weeks, and Dr. Marks, sensing my restlessness to dive into something more than mindless tasks, had decided to take a chance and let me join the team on a probationary basis. To say I was out of my mind with excitement would be an understatement, and it only renewed my enthusiasm for the internship.

I gave Dr. Marks a grateful smile. “Thank you, sir. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to be given this chance. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” he said with a wink. “Relax and read up this weekend, and I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, shouldering my bag and giving him a wave as I walked out of the department’s research area. I pulled out my cell to check the time and saw a message from Brayden.

Brayden: Be there in 10. Traffic’s a bitch.

The only downside to my week had been Pretty Baby refusing to start this morning, so after Tor had dropped me off at work, I’d called Brayden to see if he’d pick me up after. It was a good excuse to catch up before my date with Tor later this evening, since it felt like weeks had passed since I’d actually spent any time with my best friend.

I shot Brayden back a quick message and made my way out to the front lobby, which was brimming with people. Friday nights once a month were now open to the public as part of a “Fourth Friday” event, complete with wine for the adults and dinosaur-themed inflatables outside for the kids.

As I dodged a couple of kids dueling with balloon swords, courtesy of the clowns milling around, I bumped into someone behind me.

“Sorry,” I said, turning around to apologize, but as I got a good look at the man staring back at me, my mouth clamped shut.

What were the odds it would be King I’d run into in such a vast lobby full of people? The chances were slim to none, and that could only mean he’d done it on purpose. I narrowed my eyes, about to let him have it, when King suddenly backed up and averted his gaze. It was like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough, because he stumbled into a couple of other patrons in his haste, their wine spilling out onto the waxed floor.

Mumbling an apology, King shot me another glance, and this time I could see a cut on his cheekbone and a yellowish-blue bruise surrounding it. Panic was written all over his face, and I frowned and looked behind me to see what had him so terrified, but no one was paying any attention to either of us.

What the hell? Is King scared of me?

Confused, I took a step toward him, and when one of his hands shot up, warning me off, that was when I noticed the sling cradling his right arm.

Hold on a second…

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I looked King over again, searching for more telltale signs that he’d been knocked around.

No, surely this is a coincidence. But was it? It had been a week since I’d confessed to Tor about King at Hidden Cove Island, a week since Tor had told me, “I’ll handle it.”

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