around to the back of the van, she held up her hands. “That’s far enough.”
Ronan forced his feet to stop. It was an act of willpower, but one he made for her comfort.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Justice.”
Ah, so she was here to inflict some kind of punishment on him. At least she was honest about her intent. Even though he hated it that she wanted to hurt him, he had to give her credit for owning up to it.
“What is your name?” he asked, clarifying his question. “Mine is Ronan. I should at least know the name of the woman who’s come to mete out justice.”
“No, Justice is my name.”
“I didn’t see it on the manifest for your flight.”
She frowned. “I have no idea how you got your hands on that, but, for your information, I flew under an alias.”
“So, your friends call you Justice?”
“I have no friends.”
He couldn’t help but feel the sting of pain saying that caused her. Protective instincts rose to the fore, and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and soothe her hurts. “I will be your friend, Justice.”
She laughed, and the sound was so musical, he wanted to dance. “Nice try, bloodsucker. But I think I have enough friends.”
“You just said you had none.”
“Exactly.”
“Why are you still here?” he asked. “Why didn’t you run from me the way you have every other time I’ve come close to finding you?”
Her mouth tightened in anger. “They wouldn’t let me.”
“They who?”
“No one you know. Now, let’s just get this over with so we can both go on with our lives.” She stepped out from behind her car. Bruises darkened her arms, along with what looked like scabbed-over cuts.
Ronan was at her side before he realized he was moving. Magic fueled his speed and scared the living hell out of his woman. She wheeled back from him so fast, she left a dent in the metal siding of the outbuilding.
“Do not touch me,” she said. “The last time you did, you nearly killed me.”
How could he explain to her the hunger he’d felt at the time? He hadn’t meant to take so much of her blood or to be so rough with her. If he’d been in his right mind, he would have been gentle with her, cherishing the gift of blood she’d given him.
But he hadn’t been gentle, and she had no way of knowing that he didn’t make a habit of ravaging women who showed up out of the blue to save his life. All he could do now was respect her wishes and hope that in time she’d find some sliver of trust for him.
Because he really did need to get his hands on her again, feel her warm skin against his lips and taste her sweet blood as it flowed over his tongue, replenishing his cells with the magic they craved.
Ronan held up his hands and backed away a step. “I’m sorry about that, Justice. I deeply regret how I treated you that day. If you’d stayed, I would have explained that I’m not usually so rough with—”
“Your prey?” she supplied.
“I don’t see you like that.”
“No? So if I tilted my head and pulled my hair out of your way, you wouldn’t come after me again? Tear into my skin with your teeth and drink my blood?” She angled her head so that her hair fell away from the smooth lines of her throat.
He could see her pulse pounding beneath her skin, feel the power of the magic that beat there, rich and intoxicating.
She was meant to sustain him the way Hope sustained Logan. He was certain of it. Why else would she compel him so completely?
Ronan had expended a lot of energy chasing after her, and more healing Joseph. He was still functional, still strong enough to keep going despite the hunger rolling around in his empty belly—a hunger human food couldn’t touch. Nothing had eased that bone-deep, gnawing starvation the way her blood did, and now she was posed as if offering him another taste.
He saw the glow his eyes cast as his gaze slid over her body, homing in on her throat. His mouth watered for her. His chest worked overtime trying to draw her scent into his lungs and hold it there. Normally, his sense of smell was much stronger, but the sun had weakened all his abilities. Until it set, he would never be able to get enough of her scent.
He needed this woman in