Where were they?
Oh yeah, her murderous stalker.
She shrugged. “It started with spiteful notes left on my door.”
“What did they say?”
“The usual. ‘I hate you.’ ‘Go away, bitch.’ ‘Whore.’ ” Her lips curled in disgust. “Something a juvenile human would do.”
“What else?”
“My tires slashed. A dead rat left in my swimming pool.” Her gaze shifted past him to the bullet hole in the floor. A few more inches and she would have been skewered. “At least until today.”
His frown deepened, his expression distracted. “Strange.”
“Strange that someone tried to shoot me, or strange that they hadn’t tried before?” she asked dryly.
“It usually doesn’t escalate so swiftly.”
She forced herself to hold his questioning gaze at his unnerving perception.
It wasn’t bad enough his mere touch could make her wolf pant with need, he also had to be intelligent?
“You mean the attacks?”
“Exactly.” His hands shifted so his thumbs were brushing the sensitive line of her throat, pausing over the unsteady beat of her pulse. “It’s a hell of a leap from scribbling a nasty note to pulling a trigger. Most people never progress to that point. And those that do take longer than a few days to go from catty to psychotic.”
“Hmmm.” Her expression was noncommittal. “I see your point.”
His eyes narrowed. “When did you receive your first threat?”
“A few days after I moved into my new house. Two weeks ago,” she promptly answered. “I assumed it was a jealous neighbor.”
“Nothing before then?”
“Lots.” Her lips twisted wryly. “I am the Queen of Bitches, remember? But most of my enemies have the balls to face me, not creep around like an angst-ridden adolescent.”
He gave a slow nod. “Tell me about your neighbors.”
“I’ve only met a handful.” She hadn’t been particularly concerned by the lack of a welcoming committee. “Most of them are mortal. Big yawn.”
“But not all?”
“No. There’s a vamp who has a lair directly behind my tennis courts.”
His thumbs skimmed up and down her throat with an intimacy that should have made her wolf snarl in warning. A Were’s neck was considered off-limits to all but their most trusted pack mates.
Instead she battled the urge to tilt back her head and offer her tender flesh to his teeth.
Christ, what was wrong with her?
“A vamp wouldn’t waste their time with notes and tire slashing,” he said, his gaze following the path of his fingers, a glow deep in his eyes. “You piss one off and they go directly for the throat. Literally.”
“Kirsten’s barely out of her foundling years,” she informed him. “She’s still at the mercy of her human emotions.”
He seemed to dismiss the vamp, although Sophia didn’t doubt he’d tucked the info in the back of his mind.
Nothing was allowed to escape this Were’s notice.