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“Get in the car,” Adam whispered. “Get in the car and drive away.”
His knees bunched, ready to spring as the man leaned even closer. His claws sliced into the flesh of his palm, awaking the air with the heated scent of blood while his incisors stabbed through his gums. His dilated pupils expanded into diamond slits, and his vision shifted to that of a nocturnal predator.
He could kill the man without unveiling who he was. It would be so simple. But Annalise showed a certain fondness for this man, and while her affection seemed the root of this hideous jealousy, it also appeared to be the only thing holding him back. Strangely, he did not want to risk upsetting her. But it cost him.
“Thanks, but I really need to catch up on sleep.”
Shoulders quaking with restraint, breath punched through his nostrils. Every ounce of his self-control poured into holding himself back. Though the threat could disappear with only a swipe—No. Too risky.
“I’ll see ya around.” All physical contact broke as the man finally stepped back from her car.
Relief nearly toppled Adam as the male retreated to a nearby vehicle seconds before possibly having his arms ripped from the sockets. The clunking rattle of her car’s engine broke the silence. Fumes of exhaust masked her scent. He had no mechanical experience, but even a novice would diagnose her car as borderline rubbish.
His concern for her safety penetrated the haze of jealousy. His claws and fangs retracted as a cloud of smoke remained in the car’s wake.
Did she not have a more reliable means for transportation? She wouldn’t need a car once they left this place.
He followed the smog for several miles—surprised the vehicle made it that far. The motor rattled and pinged as she exited the car, parking in a mix of other vehicles outside of a tall building with a thirsty lawn.
A baby cried from within the building. Covered windows showed little light. Annalise entered the third door on the right as he followed her emotions. Her silhouette illuminated a moment later as she entered the unit that likely belonged to her.
He approached the door, prepared to follow, and frowned at the gutted wire box. Was this meant for security?
The metal plate on the door didn’t align with the frame. The teeth of the lock were engaged, preventing the door to click securely shut. He pulled it open and followed her scent up the stairs.
A baby continued to cry as voices hummed from television sets. Occasionally an actual person would talk, but most the residents were sleeping at this hour.
An overall feeling of discontent emanated from within these walls. He’d sensed a similar emotion from Annalise when she arrived, which boded well for him. If this place made her unhappy, she might not mind him taking her away.
Reaching her door, he brushed her mind, a gentle probe too light to interrupt or distract her. She seemed to be preparing for sleep. He could sense her exhaustion.
There were less than four hours until dawn, not enough time to explain the circumstances to her and complete the blood bond. He wanted her clear headed when he told her of her destiny.
She might be weakened after the bonding, unable to travel. There were too many possible mishaps to consider changing her and returning home tonight. That meant leaving her for another day.
It wasn’t what he wanted, but it made the most sense to wait until tomorrow evening to approach her. She’d be rested and better suited for travel. He only hoped his mate proved an agreeable female, otherwise more complications could arise.
Backing away from the door, he scanned the hall. It wasn’t ideal but it would do. Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned into the wall and settled into his post for the next several hours.
When her heartbeat slowed and he sensed her sleeping, he turned the knob only to find the door locked. Good girl.
Splaying his fingers wide, he focused on the lock until the metal teeth retracted and the door gave way. Her scent washed over him, embedded in every fiber and surface of the apartment.
The furnishings were basic. Books filled shelves and piled up on chairs and tables. He scanned the title of one lying open on the sofa, Clinical Competencies.
These were medical texts. Why so much literature on the human body? Was she ill or studying to help others?
The familiar fragrance of honeysuckle intensified in the washroom. Lifting a towel from the basket in the corner, he shut his eyes and inhaled, pressing the fabric to his nose. His body instantly hardened, his instincts driving him to her bed where she slept soundly.
She lay in the center of the bed, dwarfed by the large mattress. Her limbs twisted in the white sheet. Waves of copper and gold splayed across the pillow. So still. So delicate. So ... his.
