Page 44 of UNAwere

‘Oh.’

I’m not usually good at picking up on social cues. Especially from men. But I realise now what’s happening. And why he’s talking to me. And what he wants. If he’d caught me in my early twenties, he would have had a field day. But now, I don’t think I could stand having sex with a man I don’t know. My skin crawls at the idea. And it’s not Isaac. He’s conventionally attractive, and he seems kind. But I don’t know him.

‘I don’t know,’ I say honestly.

‘Are you sure?’ He frowns, looking genuinely confused.

I stare at him. ‘What?’

But before he can answer, a shadow looms over us both. I see Isaac glance up, the colour draining from his face, and it’s like a wraith has crawled up from the underworld to collect its debts. From him and him alone.

‘I… You’re… There’s nothing…’ Isaac is mumbling, pointing between me and him, his ticket fluttering to his feet.

‘One hundred and two!’

‘Ooh, I’m next!’ I ignore the shadow, even as it breathes down upon us like an angry bull.

‘You’re mistaken if you think…’ Isaac is still trying to explain himself, inching further into the wall as if he thinks he’s capable of becoming a part of it.

The deep timbre in Briggs’s voice is lethal. ‘Get the fuck out of my sight.’

I blink, and Isaac is gone.

‘Twenty-six.’ A stab of doubt shoots through me, and I quickly count on my fingers. ‘Yep, no, twenty-six.’

Briggs crosses his arms. He’s still standing there, menacing. And he looks so mad I think he’s going to burst a vein in his forehead.

‘What are you doing?’ His voice is a threat, and an icy chill skitters down my spine, the primal part of me recognising it. But I shove it aside.

‘One hundred and three!’

‘Yay!’ I go to the counter, handing over my ticket for a brown paper bag and a can of cola. When I turn back, Briggs is standing behind me, and I crash against his chest. ‘Jeepers! Briggsy!’

He grasps my arm, his grip like a vice, and drags me after him.

We’re at the car when I finally pull free. The fact that it’s a red, two-seater hatchback does not go unnoticed, and I bite back a grin.

‘Let me eat!’ I say. ‘I’m starving!’

‘You just ate.’

‘A muffin. This morning. Hardly satisfying.’ I set the bag and can on the bonnet and pull out my hot dog, biting into it. I moan, the taste of onions and processed meat filling my mouth. ‘Oh man, that’s so good.’

Briggs watches me. He’s practically become a human jackhammer, the way he’s shaking.

‘You have no fucking idea, do you?’ he says.

‘Twenty-seven.’ I nearly choke and cough, patting my chest.

‘We’re on the border of Primrose territory. Weres are going to treat you differently here.’

I frown at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘They can smell—’ He stops and runs his hand through his hair, turning away. He’s huffing, body tensed, fists clenched. ‘What part of stay in my sight do you not understand?’

‘Briggs. It’s a hot dog.’ I wave it under his nose, and he cringes away. ‘I was hungry. It was across the parking lot from where you were.’

‘I couldn’t see you.’ He growls and snatches the fry I offer him, throwing it across the car park.