Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,10

the elite, I knew power when I saw it. This man had it. Not only in his muscular frame that was apparent through the coat. Not just in the ticking of his jaw. He came from powerful lineage—an inheritance that was the work of many generations. I could detect it as easily as the sinking sun.

Or a urinary infection.

My face hardened.

He stopped when we were almost toe to toe, and I tipped my head back, feeling my curls brush the small of my back.

His eyes. Bright green. So insanely bright. Kind of like the receptionist’s in Live Right Realty.

“Compensating for something?” he asked in a rumbling voice.

Huh?

Oh… right.

The unstated subtext of his comment implied he didn’t have anything to compensate for. No matter how much I agreed, arrogance drew out the worst in me. The urge to apologise disintegrated.

I looked him up and down, wrinkling my nose. “Seems like it.”

His eyes flashed and he stilled.

Predator.

The only word I could think of to describe the man’s sudden change.

My heart pounded anew. He was big. Like, athletic and two heads taller than me. Something about the guy sent my body into overdrive. My mind screamed at me to run.

But he was an ass. Asses didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me afraid.

I held his gaze, planting my feet. My hands landed on my hips.

The flash subsided and the corners of his lips twitched. “You realise that you ran out in front of my car.”

I did. “The green man was flashing.”

The man hummed and cocked a brow at the pavement. I did the same, realising we’d created a spectacle. Pedestrians lined the road on either side. We’d stopped the traffic in this lane and the one next as people slowed to gawk.

More pertinent was the fact that I was the only pedestrian on the road. Which I assumed was his point.

Running a hand through my hair, I blew out a breath. “Whatever. Thanks for not killing me.” I really should be grateful about that. Oh, well. I wasn’t fucking perfect.

Pivoting on my heel, I resumed crossing the street, weaving between the gawking lanes. All four lanes were now slowing to catch a look at the drama.

“Where are you going? I’m talking to you,” the man growled at my back.

Seriously? Growling? No one actually did that. Well, except that one Caveman, but he was just overzealous in fulfilling his roleplay.

Under different circumstances, I might have flirted shamelessly with Black Tie in the hopes of loosening his tie, but he was a douche bucket. I wasn’t attracted to asshats. Scratch that. I was, but they were for one-night stands. Nothing more.

Safely atop the opposite pavement, I lifted my middle finger overhead, calling, “Sit and rotate, buddy.”

“Don’t tempt me,” the man answered, gaze set on my face.

Uhm, did he just imply what I thought he’d implied?

I recovered, shouting, “I’ll trim my nails then.”

Montgomery’s bright green sign caught my attention as I turned away from the hot piece of bastard. More importantly, my gaze snagged on the weedy teen opening the door.

Crap! I’m back here?

His eyes landed on me. Shock registered one second before the teen bellowed, “Stop her.”

Fuck!

Legs and arms pumping, I zig-zagged through startled pedestrians. One ear on the teen’s nasally commands, I kept the other on the snapping calls of the driver I’d left in the middle of the street, for some reason feeling he was the larger threat.

Which made no sense at all.

“You’re sure you didn’t notice anything weird about their eyes and smiles?” I pressed Tommy again.

She shook her head, appearing nonplussed. “Nope. I’ve dropped my résumé off three times. They’re fucking gorgeous. Every one of them—which I suppose is kind of strange… Do you think they wear contacts or something?”

Pretty sure my imagination was on the fritz and I was dreaming up monsters under the bed. Rhys hadn’t seemed to notice anything astray either, apart from the beauty of the receptionists.

“Are you sure you want to work there if the staff gave you the heebie-jeebies?” Tommy asked, snatching up the last fish taco. She’d paid, so I let her have it.

We were in a pub on the waterfront. Twenty years ago, the decor would have amazed. Now, it was tired and worn. But the food was good, and so was the strawberry mojito I’d downed.

Lips pursed, I turned my focus inward at her question. The head cloudy experience of earlier had dissipated now. Nearly being flattened by an expensive car would do that to a gal. Looking back, I was certain