His skin tingled where she touched him. Covering his fangs with his lips, ignoring the prick of pain as the points jabbed into the soft flesh of his mouth, he covered her hand with his and gave her a nod.
Devon zeroed in on his eyes, her tears abating by the distraction. She became very still, her full lips parted on a quick inhale.
Fuck. His eyes. He’d forgotten about his eyes.
“Kohl.”
Hawke, the coven’s second oldest vampire, handed his pistol to one of the bouncers and came walking toward them, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. In spite of his age, his physical appearance was that of a man in the prime of his life.
His expression was grim as he reached out a hand to introduce himself to Devon. “Hello…” He let his sentence trail off, and looked at her expectantly.
She blinked and released Kohl’s arm, her attention successfully averted. “Devon,” she said. Her voice still shook, but only slightly. “My name is Devon.”
“Devon,” Hawke repeated. “What a lovely name. I’m Hawke. Are you hurt?”
Kohl quickly scanned her body, looking for injuries. He hadn’t even thought to check. She could be in shock. Her dress was dusty from the floor, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.
“No, I seem to be fine. Thanks to Kohl.” Her eyes lingered for a moment too long on his face before she turned back to Hawke.
He wished she wouldn’t study him like that. He had a feeling she saw way too much. Much more than his physical appearance.
Hawke snapped his fingers, and Andrew came forward.
“Please call Devon a cab and see that she gets safely into it.”
“I have my car—” she began.
“I’ll have it returned to you tomorrow. I don’t think you should be driving after such a traumatizing evening.”
“But, what about the police? Don’t I need to stay to give a statement? I think I got a pretty good look at one of the shooters.”
“The shooters are dead now.” Hawke swung his arm in a wide circle, taking in the pile of bodies leaking all over the floor. “As are most of our patrons, unfortunately.” He caught both of Devon’s hands in his, effectively capturing her attention again.
Kohl’s eyes fell to their joined hands and he exposed his fangs with a hiss. Hawke was his friend, but he didn’t like him touching her.
Hawke’s eyes flicked over to him before returning to Devon’s face, and he released her hands. “Let us get you safely home. It’ll ease my mind after all that’s happened tonight. We’ll handle the police. If anyone asks, just say you left before this all went down. There’s no need for you to be involved.”
Even though he’d let go of her hands, Hawke held her eyes with his, extending his influence over her just enough to keep her calm and get her to do what he wanted. Kohl clenched his teeth. He’d witnessed this game before, and he knew it was necessary, but he didn’t like him in her head any more than he liked him touching her.
Her eyes glazed over. “Okay,” she agreed amiably.
Hawke waved Andrew forward. He was already on his phone, calling for a driver.
Though the fire in his blood had cooled somewhat, Kohl was still fighting the effects of the heavy scent of blood. More so than the others. It was a never-ending battle for him.
He needed some air.
“Will you walk me out?”
He looked down at Devon, surprised by her request, then over at Hawke.
His friend took in his appearance, assessing where his head was, and gave Kohl a nod. “Help Andrew see her off. We’ll talk after.”
“I’ll be right back,” Kohl said. Placing his hand on Devon’s lower back, he escorted her around the ones who had fallen and out the back door. She obediently went with him, barely glancing at the gore around her.
The night was dark, but the motion light lit up a twenty-foot perimeter. Kohl didn’t need it, but proper lighting was an integral part of the illusion of the club. He peered into the shadows and smelled the air, assuring they were alone before he let Devon join him outside and allowed the door to shut behind them. The human’s New Year had just passed, and it was actually pretty cold for central Texas. The bare branches of oak trees reached toward the dark sky with skeletal fingers, their trunks kept warm by the smaller cypress and cedars. The grass was dead and straw-like, interspersed with clumps of prickly pear cactus.
Devon walked past him, then stopped and spun around. Calm radiated from her. Hawke’s influence. And for once, Kohl was glad of his interference.
