Page 28

At the time, I assumed she meant ghosts.

Now, I was beginning to suspect Aunt Delphine had known a stubborn, eight-tailed motherfucker would follow me home.

I still don’t know the chess game she’s playing.

My phone remained silent.

She had not called me back. The Bayou Banshee was probably elbow-deep in some wicked man’s chest while I waited to be kidnapped by Japanese wildlife.

I sat there, ready to battle if needed.

The heater hummed.

Traffic whispered far beyond the windows.

Somewhere beyond the courtyard wall, a woman laughed with a man. A car door slammed out on the street, and an engine carried them away.

Normal sounds.

I’m safe.

I slowly released the breath I had been holding.

Then, the scent of cedar entered the room.

Hold up.

My entire body stiffened.

That scent began faintly, like a distant forest carried in on a breeze.

Old cedar. Rain falling on moss. Cold stone. Ancient smoke.

And beneath it all came the dark, warm scent of a mystical man powerful enough to know nothing in this world could refuse him.

Oh, hell no.

Yet. . .my mouth watered too.

Okay. It’s about to go down. I’m going to whip his ass.

I shifted on the bed and immediately regretted it. Silk slid over my hardened nipples. The movement sent a bolt of pleasure through me.

“Stop it.”

The scent deepened.

My black heart beat harder. So did the bite. The two rhythms found each other until my whole body seemed to pulse with one slow, demanding beat.

I reached for the gun and brought it onto my lap.

“He is an intruder,” I reminded my breasts, my pussy, and every other foolish part of me. “We shoot intruders. We don’t get wet for them.”

A soft knock sounded at the door.

I frowned.

One silent minute passed.