“What?”
“It’s my job to protect you,” he growled, stepping so close that his heat seared over her skin. “And if that means giving you orders then you’ll obey them. Got it?”
“Why you ...”
Brushing past him, she headed up the stairs. She bypassed the second floor, knowing from the angle of the bullet currently lodged in her desk that it must have been fired from the third floor. Personally she preferred her kills to be up close and personal, but she was a trained marksman.
Continuing upward, she sensed Luc directly behind her.
Hell, she more than sensed him. The pinpricks of his anger were biting into her skin, warning that his wolf was prowling close to the surface.
A powerful wolf, she inanely acknowledged.
One that was more than a match for her own.
Trying to shake off her distraction at his proximity, Sophia halted on the top floor landing. Before she could reach for the doorknob, however, there was a faint squeak on a stair below them.
The sound had barely reached her ears when Luc had her shoved up against the wall, caging her with his larger body. At the same time there was the deafening crack of a gunshot followed by a nerve-shredding screech as a bullet pierced the thin sheet of metal exactly where they’d been standing less than a second before.
“Por Dios.” Pushing back, Luc ran a searching gaze over her tense form. Once assured she was injury-free, he moved to glance over the railing. “Stay here.” He turned his head back to glare at her with eyes that were more wolf than human. “This time you’ll do as I say or I’ll handcuff you to the door. Got it?”
Without bothering to wait for her response, the idiot was leaping down the stairs, pursuing their trigger-happy attacker with a reckless disregard for sanity, self-preservation, and the basic laws of gravity.
Not that she should bother being worried.
Luc was obviously a trained thug who probably spent a large portion of his day chasing after crazies. If he wanted to take a bullet or two to prove he was a big, strong Were, then let him.
Except he had saved her life, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind.
Twice.
She at least owed him a thank-you before he got himself offed, didn’t she?
That was the only reason she was pacing the cramped landing instead of returning to her club and getting on with her day.
“Pain in the ass,” she muttered beneath her breath, her head snapping around as Luc jogged easily up the stairs.
“Were you saying something?” he asked, a faint smile toying at the edges of his mouth.
She ran a swift gaze over his magnificent body, refusing to allow herself to linger on the rippling muscles and the broad shoulders that were displayed to perfection by the tight T-shirt.
He was unharmed.
That was all that mattered.
“Did you find the shooter?”
“Nothing.” His jaw clenched with frustration. “Whoever it was managed to enter and leave the building without leaving a trace.”
“A witch?”
“Impossible to say without further information.” He shrugged. “I’ll do a more thorough search when the building closes for the night.”
She cleared her throat. “I haven’t thanked you.”
Expecting him to gloat, Sophia was caught off guard when he abruptly stepped forward, grasping her upper arms as he regarded her with a fierce glare.
“I don’t want you to thank me, Sophia. I want you to let me do my job.”