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“I don’t think so.”
He chuckled as though he expected nothing else. “Then it looks like I’m sleeping here.”
“You can’t just invite yourself to stay at my place.”
“Of course I can. I mean, I’m pretty sure I just did.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“I’m Hunter. I don’t plan on killing you tonight, and when I fuckyou, you’ll be begging for it. So unless you want to start begging now, run along and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”
I stood there, mouth hanging open, with absolutely nothing to say back to it. What did a normal person say back to something like that? It wasn’t really like I could throw him out physically or call the cops, given all that had happened, and hehadsaved my life.
Worse?
I was pretty sure if I dealt with him much longer, I might just do as he claimed, so I hurried up the stairs.
So much for a bath to relax me—an even worse tension ran through me, and it would take a lot more than hot water to resolve it…
* * * *
Hunter was gone when I woke, and I had no idea what that meant. He didn’t strike me as a vampire, given his normal teeth, yet he certainly wasn’t human. The fact that he’d left before the sun came up made me hesitate, but he’d come into my office during the daylight hours, so again, probably not a vampire.
Troy had left a note on my door reminding me to come over when I was up and about, and by ten in the morning, I didn’t think I could avoid it anymore.
He always kept his house perfectly. He was the sort of down-home guy who spent every Saturday morning working in his yard. There had been more than a few times I’d drunk coffee on my balcony during those Saturday mornings and watched the show.
Not that I ever wastooobvious. I would hold a book as though I was totally not watching my extremely hot neighbor mow his lawn.
When I knocked, it took a long moment for him to answer. He was too on the ball for him to have not been near the door, waiting, and yet the pause made me suspect he’d done it for me.
Did he not want to make me feel crowded?Maybe.
He nodded and moved away.
So, we’re pretending everything is normal?
It was my first time inside his house, but it lived up to all my expectations. Everything was worn-in and cozy, as if he’d bought it years before and loved each piece.
Then again, hewasa werewolf, which meant his age was a far trickier thing to work out.
Supernaturals didn’t age.Noneof them. Werewolves and vampires stopped aging when they turned, and mages stopped aging when they gained control of their full powers after some weird ritual. It meant he could be in his early fifties or he could have been three thousand years old, and I’d have had no idea.
“You look like you’re thinking,” he said as he spooned food from a pan to a plate when we reached the kitchen.
“I’m wondering how old you are,” I admitted when he set the plate in front of me.
It was piled high with eggs, bacon, grilled veggies. Then again, werewolves had to eat an extraordinary amount to keep up with their metabolism.
Troy chuckled as he sat across from me with his own plate which had, amazingly, even more food. “Worried I’m three hundred?”
“Add a zero and you have what I was thinking. I don’t mind the whole silver-fox thing, but I might draw the line at grandpa wolf.”
He choked, hitting his hand against his chest to dislodge the food he’d inhaled due to my little comment. After catching his breath, he gave me a chiding look. “I was made into a werewolf when I was forty, about thirty years ago.”
“You were only forty?”
“Last I checked, telling someone they look older than their age is considered rude.”
