Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,3

demon, despite the tiny breadcrumbs of info I’d collected along the way.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Yeah, right. How about you at least tell me the name you had when you were human? I know one thing for sure—it wasn’t Bishop.”

“Okay.” He eyed me. “It was Barbara.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“And you still look like you want to punch me.”

“I’m barely restraining myself, actually.”

That smile returned to play at his lips. His gaze moved to the other side of the club and his expression grew grim again. “I need to talk to Roth. Wait here.”

Another team member. Another demon. Roth, however, made Kraven look like a friendly teddy bear. And Kraven was not a friendly teddy bear by anyone’s definition.

“I thought you wanted me to leave?” I said.

“I’ll take you home when we’re done here. Give me five minutes. Stephen’s dangerous and I don’t want you finding him by yourself.”

“I can handle him.”

Bishop returned my challenging look with one of his own. “Five minutes.”

“Fine.”

I watched as he walked across the club to where tall, handsome and hateful Roth stood by the long bar that only sold nonalcoholic beverages and appetizers. The crowd of kids swelled to cut off my view of the two.

Even with Bishop gone, my hunger hadn’t faded one bit. Strange. I thought I’d get a chance to compose myself better.

“Hey, Samantha.”

Damn. I glanced over to see Colin Richards standing right next to me. He was poised directly in what I’d termed my “orbit of hunger.” Two feet or less. The danger zone.

“Colin,” I squeaked out. “Hey.”

I wasn’t romantically interested in Colin at all, but unfortunately, the feeling wasn’t mutual. He’d taken my rejection hard, especially when I showed very nonrejection behavior whenever he entered the orbit and I couldn’t control my hunger quite so well. Most people respected your personal space. Colin wasn’t one of them.

He swept his gaze over the short, black skirt and silver tank top I’d chosen to wear so I’d fit in with Kelly and Sabrina and the rest of the Saturday night crowd.

“You’ve kept a low profile this week,” he said. “Are you specifically avoiding me, or just generally being a bitch to everyone?”

I winced at his sharp words, but then I smelled the alcohol on his breath. So much for this being a booze-free club. Some kids tried to sneak it in, anyway. Colin was becoming well-known for drinking too much and getting into trouble. When he dated Carly over the summer, he’d made a bunch of vodka-fueled bad choices, including cheating on her at a pool party.

“Nice,” I said drily. “And maybe when you sober up, you won’t be such an ass.”

This earned me a humorless snort as he drained whatever was in his plastic cup. His gaze slid down the front of me again as if he was having trouble keeping his attention on my face. My cheeks grew warm at his blatant gaze.

“Who was that guy you were talking to?”

I blinked. “None of your business.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Again, none of your business.”

He was being very confrontational tonight, which made me sad. Colin was actually a really nice guy, despite some of the more epic mistakes he’d made in the past. And I knew I’d hurt him last week, so I wouldn’t hold this particular discussion against him in the future. This time, anyway.

Walk away, I told myself. But my feet refused to move. I fought my rising hunger with every ounce of strength I had. The more I fought, the colder I got until goose bumps broke out over my bare arms and I shivered, despite the club being at least eighty degrees. The cold was a side effect of not having a soul.

Colin leaned closer, which only made things worse. I didn’t smell the vodka on his breath anymore; what I smelled was warm, tempting and entirely edible. Less so than Bishop, but still more than anyone else in this club right now.

“Heard from Carly?” he asked.

That woke me up like a glass of cold water thrown in my face.

Colin, like almost everyone else, believed Carly had run away with a secret boyfriend and was off having a misguided, but romantic adventure.

“No,” I said softly. My eyes began to burn.

He snorted again. It was an unpleasant, mocking sound. “Look at you, all misty over Carly taking off with some guy. Feeling abandoned by your BFF? Poor Sam. Boo hoo.”

I gave him a careful look. “I know I hurt you—”

“Hurt me?” he scoffed. “Please. I’m over it.”

“Yeah, sure you are.” I studied him, uncertain how