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One of the hands on my waist comes up clamping around my mouth, and then warm lips are pressed to my ear. “Shut the fuck up, Little London.”
My spine goes straight, the voice rattling something in my bones but it might just be because I didn't have to tell whoever it is my name, he already knows it. Well, my fake name technically, so not a huge concern.
Right?
“Yeah, you heard her.” Zeke peeks through the space between their shoulders, and the pair shift in unison. “I was simply helping her... Knight.”
A small laugh bubbles up and the hand over my mouth clamps harder.
“Watch it, trouble,” he whispers. “You really want him to tear the heart out of someone else so soon? And the son of the headmistress?”
A frown builds over my brow, and I stiffen when the person chuckles.
“Actually, he’d probably love an excuse to do just that.”
Who isheand who the fuck is ... well, he.
I don’t know, but I’m done with being manhandled like a doll.
I bring my hands up, sliding them along the muscles beneath the suit around me, and what do you know, the man softens a bit. Just enough for me to guide them higher, until I find the skin of his wrists.
I sink my nails into them, digging until they break through.
He hisses in my ear, tossing me away, and I chuckle, spinning.
The moment our eyes meet, I gasp, glaring a moment later.
“You!” I grit, reaching forward and shoving him hard in the chest. He doesn’t move, not even an inch.
Instead, he steps forward, causing me to take a step back, but I slam into a wall.
Scratch that. Two walls.
“Me.” He grins, lifting his arm and licking the blood marks clean. I don’t know why, but my eyes follow the action, flicking back up to his when he tucks his tongue back in his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I glare. “Did you follow—”
I cut my words off, dread spilling down my spine in hot tickles.
Oh my shit, are they the ones who figured out I was a Gifted girl pretending to be Giftless?
Did they sense my power or something and show up at that diner specifically to look for me?
Are they like the Gifted version of bounty hunters?
A hand grips my shoulder and I’m spun around, coming face-to-face with another pair of blue eyes, these ones belonging to the silent angry one from yesterday.
“What—” I begin, but my question dies in my throat when I look to the person at his left.
My mouth drops open at the inconceivably attractive asshole smirking beside him. He’s the identical version of the one who pinned me against the wall yesterday... only there is a clear distinction between the two. Even if I don’t know what it is.
“You … son of a bitch.”
“Accurate.” He chuckles darkly, running his tongue over his teeth. “But you might not want to let her hear that.”
“I kissed you!”
His eyes narrow slightly, and he looks to the one at his side, who hasn’t stopped staring at me, glare hardening by the second.
