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“I’m exactly where I should be,” I grit out.
And it’s the truth. How could I just swan off to Harvard after what happened to my parents?
How can I stare into the face of pure evil and turn away?
How can I live knowing that this fucking bastard and his brothers lied to me my entire life and just brush it off to live a normal life? Normal died the night I came home and found my parents brutally murdered by demons. Normal died the night my prom date, Chase, attacked me with teeth and claws that were most definitelynothuman.
Normal was obliterated the night my three best friends betrayed me.
Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can see Chase’s face change and distort, his mouth elongating into a wolfish snout and fur growing on his arms and legs. And then I can see the Bellua brothers charging at him with their weapons raised, prepared to hurt him, kill him,endhim. Because he was a monster.
But worse than any of that are the times I see my parents. Dad, sitting in his wheelchair, blood smearing the front of his bathrobe. And my mother, torn to pieces, her body used as aritualistic sacrifice…and that dark figure standing in the center of my living room.
“Daisy, you can’t be here. It’s dangerous.” Jackson’s voice drags my attention back to the present.
“Damn right it is. Get off me,” I growl out. “Or I will cry for help and get you arrested faster than you can say, ‘my prom date turned into a werewolf.’”
Jackson’s expression drops, like he’s suddenly realized that he’s holding me down. He scrambles off me, and I get to my feet and retrieve my backpack from where I stashed it behind a bush, hoping Jackson didn’t break any of Becka’s vials when he was trying to pin me down. I brush dead leaves off my shoulders and wish I was holding my crossbow. That thing made me feel safe.
Jackson’s thwarted my plan to get into the crime scene from the balcony, but there are other ways to get a look at that room. I take off toward the entrance of the hotel, disobeying every bone in my body that wants me to turn around and go back to Jackson.
A dark shadow steps in front of me, blocking my path to the hotel doors.
Of course I should’ve known Jackson Bellua wouldn’t be alone. He has two shadows, after all.
“Lily fucking Dean,” Brooks’s dark, seductive voice booms. “You’re leaving. Now.”
Fucking Brooks.
I don’t step back. I don’t cower. I don’t back down. I won’t give Brooks Bellua the satisfaction of knowing what the sound of his voice does to me, the way it makes liquid heat pulse between my legs.
I’m not surprised Brooks is here. He wouldn’t let Jackson go out hunting on his own. Brooks always has to be in everyone’s business.
Once a bossy asshole, always a bossy asshole.
I sweep my gaze slowly over him, forcing my features to remain passive as I take in his close-cropped hair, the five-o’clock shadow on his sharp jawline, and those cheekbones that poets write sonnets about. The heat inside me bubbles and pops.
Brooks’s fathomless eyes are performing the same study of me. They’re so deep and dark that I can get pulled under by them if I’m not careful. His mouth curls up a little in the corner, and a line appears between his eyebrows.
A smirk or a frown?
He plants his hand on my stomach and gives me a gentle nudge in the direction of the woods. It’s not violent, but it is commanding—Brooks is used to getting exactly what he wants.
Sparks of fire shoot through my body where his fingers touch, like one of Becka’s potions is sparking to life inside of me, igniting feelings that I’ve done my best to keep hidden.
“Get your hand off me, or I’ll remove it myself.” I reach into the pocket of my coat and slide out the silver-tipped, double-edged blade I keep there.
Quenched in holy water and dedicated to Sekmet, the Egyptian goddess of war, this weapon will stop most monsters in their tracks. Unlike my favorite crossbow, it’s also portable.Andit can ugly up Brooks’s face—a crime against humanity, but one I’m willing to commit to prove my point.
I press my thighs together, but the fire inside me only burns brighter.
Please don’t let him see what he does to me.
Please don’t let him know how much I’ve missed him.
“This is a dangerous place. You shouldn’t be here. You should be at school.” His scowl is a dark slash on his stupidly handsome face.
“You’re not the boss of me, Brooks Bellua. You don’t tell me what to do.”
