I glanced to my side and, yep, Ronan was standing next to some girl I didn’t recognise.
Tiny thing.
White hair with soft red tips fell over her shoulders and ended just past her tits. Silver eyes, full lips, and one of those small button noses that you would call “cute.” She looked like she could fit in a damn backpack.
She was drowning in a hoodie that reached her mid-thigh, bare legs and feet. Her toes were painted red—of course they were. She looked like trouble wrapped in a blanket of innocence, and Ronan was standing way too close.
“Following you.” I rubbed my eyes; Ronan was looking at me, then back at the vampire.
“Cherry, why is there a blood mage at the door?”
I cocked my head as the little temptress glanced at Ronan and actually let out a little laugh.
“You’re the first person to call him a blood mage,” her voice was soft, low, with that husky edge that would probably sound downright sinful, moaning my name.
Nope. Not going there.
She’s trouble with a capital T—and clearly involved with Ronan. Hell, she looks young, and I’m probably way too old for her.
“Maybe you can stay,” the bloodsucking bastard says, swaggering toward them like he owns the place. I reach for my sword… and come up with nothing.
Brilliant. Forgot the damn thing.
His eyes cut to me. “You, on the other hand, have five seconds to leave before I send you home in bite-sized chunks.”
I clenched my fists, jaw grinding. I was more than ready to rip his throat out and wear his fangs as a trophy.
I don’t care what Ronan says—blood mage or not, I’ve met this freak before. He kills for sport, drinks blood, and that makes him a walking corpse in my book.
I took a step forward, ready to tear him apart limb from limb, but then she stepped in front of him. The little temptress, standing there like she wasn’t a pint-sized thing in a room full of dangerous men, one that could easily drain her dry. Her hands were on her hips, and her chin tilted as she looked at me dead on.
“One more step, Kieran, and I’ll sit your arse down myself.”
I stared at her for a second and let out a low chuckle. She really thinks she could take me.
Ronan stood behind her, subtly dragging his finger across his throat like I was about to make a very poor life choice. I blinked at him, then looked down at the tiny roadblock in front of me.
“Move.”
She folds her arms like a bloody queen. “No, you big brute.”
Stubborn little thing.
I placed my hands on her shoulders, ready to gently shove her aside so I could knock the smug look off the bloodsucker’s face, but I didn’t get that far.
Next thing I knew, I was airborne.
And then I crashed down onto something surprisingly soft. A couch, maybe. Or Ronan’s massive ego. Hard to tell.
I leaned forward, but my mind was a jumble. I couldn’t focus; all I could smell was cherries and vanilla, and I wanted that bloodsucker dead. My chest felt strange, and the skin on my fingertips tingled after touching her.
Temptress.
Ronan’s face came into view above me, and he rolled his eyes.
“Seriously, man, drunk again?”
“Fuck off.”
