she feared he could see inside her to all that was wrong with her. She winced. And that would be a lot.
“You don’t think wolves did this,” he uttered. A statement, not a question.
He pointed a finger where the paper rested on the counter just in case she was confused about what he was talking about. She wasn’t confused. At least not about that. She did wonder why he seemed so interested in what she thought, however. And why was he so interested in the wolf problem? Or rather, the lack of wolf problem.
“I don’t know what killed Corey.”
“But something did. And you know it’s not wolves.” He picked up a french fry and bit into it with clean, even teeth. “Interesting. You seem to be the only one around here to share that sentiment.”
She glanced around the busy diner, aware that most of the conversation centered around what was going to be done about the wolves. She frowned. If the true threat was what she suspected, there was nothing any of these people could do.
Nothing except bar their doors and pray.
“Don’t worry,” he said, rising from his stool. He dropped a bill on the counter. “It will all be over soon.”
“What do you mean?” She cocked her head.
He hesitated for a moment like he wanted to say something. “Everything will work itself out. Just don’t go wandering around at night.”
And she knew. He knew what … things… were killing people around here. He suspected the same thing she did. She stared at him, hoping for more elaboration.
He didn’t give any. “Good night. Darby.”
A small tingle trailed down her spine at the sound of her name on his lips. He seemed to say it almost as an afterthought, like it was something he wanted to experiment pronouncing on his tongue.
As he walked away, she glanced down at the large bill on the counter. “What about your change?” she called, snatching up the money.
He ignored her, continuing out the door and into the cold night.
SEVEN
Niklas walked swiftly through the snow, his booted feet hitting the snow-covered pavement hard, as if each step could jar some sense into his head and remind him of his purpose here.
He cut through the murky, purple air. Night was falling. They were somewhere close, ready to strike again. This time, he’d be there. He lifted his face and breathed in. It was there. A trace of Cyprian and the rest of them. The sickly sweet scent of blood always clung to them and stayed behind on the air.
This was the part he hated. The waiting. The tense holding of his breath as he listened, as he felt, scenting the night air, letting his instincts guide him.
He cast a glance over his shoulder at the brightly lit diner fading behind him. A steady stream of people continued to enter the establishment. The usual dinner crowd combined with those morbidly curious about the murdered waitress.
In the future, he would eat somewhere else—if he didn’t catch them tonight, of course. He still had tomorrow night though. Certain waitresses were simply far too distracting. He breathed in. He could still smell her. Clean skin and fresh vanilla. He wondered if she tasted the same. He shook his head as if he could dislodge the thought with the fierce motion. She fogged his head with needful thoughts. Thoughts of tangled limbs and sinking himself inside her softness.
He’d thought it was a good idea to eat there considering the pack’s latest victim had worked there. He thought he might find out some information, although he probably knew more than anyone else about what exactly was going on. He sure as hell knew that the local wolves hadn’t gone on a killing spree. He knew that. And so did she.
Darby. The waitress. She wasn’t all that she appeared to be.
As curious as he was about her, as interesting as he found her, he needed to forget her. He was here for one reason and it didn’t involve getting entangled with a woman.
He swung his gaze upward. A latticework of branches lining the sidewalk blocked his view of the sky, but he didn’t need to see it to know. He could feel it, in the pull and itch of his own flesh, in the hum of his bones. There wasn’t much time left.
He located his Hummer at the end of the block. Shooting a glance around his shoulder, he made sure no one was about as he popped his trunk and armed himself with