that screamed ‘good person’ entered her head. He’d been cute but just too nice. Claire needed more attitude from her man.
Do I? That’s what got me into trouble in the first place.
She snorted and took a long drink, feeling the buzz start to spread through her system.
Someone thumped into a chair several spots down the bar on her left as she set the glass down.
Claire turned to see who the newcomer was, and her mouth dropped open in shock.
“You?” she gasped, staring at a tall, muscular male with a shaven head and blue-green eyes that were all but glittering as they fixed on her.
The man seemed pleased as could be to see her as he flashed her a brilliant smile.
Claire heard Anne cough from behind the bar.
“You two met before?” she asked dryly a moment later.
Chapter Four
Pietro
Sometimes, Pietro knew, Fate worked in mysterious ways. She was a fickle lady, sure, but sometimes she knew just what was necessary.
After the Vampire Hunter had read his memory and latched on to the image of this woman, he’d known he would have to track her down. All he had, however, was the image of her and a faint memory of her scent, picked up for a bare second in the crowded bar the first time he’d met her.
“We met once before,” he said to answer Anne, though his eyes stayed locked on the flame-haired beauty two seats down the bar.
“Claire?” Anne asked.
Pietro held back a frown at the confirmation-seeking tone of Anne’s voice. What was that all about? Why was Anne seeing if things were okay? She knew him, he’d been at the Dragon’s Eye many times before now, without ever causing trouble. What had changed?
So concerned was he over the sudden worry that he’d done something wrong, that it was several more seconds before he realized that Anne had let something slip unintentionally.
Her name is Claire.
The first time they had met, Pietro had been denied such knowledge. Denied that and a whole lot more, he thought glumly, trying not to relive that embarrassing shutdown.
“He’s telling the truth,” Claire said with a flash of brown eyes tinged with amber as she reached over to grab her drink, taking a sip while she eyed him over the lip of it.
Anne looked between the two of them, then shrugged and stood up straight. A call from a table nearby for another round pulled her attention away. Pietro saw Kal lean back into the corner, his eyes the only thing visible in the shadows created by the thick square-edged floor-to-ceiling pillar at the far right side of the bar.
Leaving just him and Claire alone with but two seats separating them.
What do I do now?
Pietro knew he had to make a good impression. He needed Claire to talk to him this time. To give him her attention, so that he could figure out a way to protect her. To keep her safe from the creatures that had come through the Gate.
He could always tell her the truth of course. Simply explain what he was and what had happened, and that she was in danger being out alone at night.
Pietro hesitated. Although the existence of his kind was now public knowledge, he was still stuck in the old mindset of not revealing who or what he was to strangers. The world was slowly coming to accept this new reality, the ever-growing tent cities outside of Five Peaks giving testament to the clamor for more of his kind to be seen on a regular basis.
That publicity and attention was driving many of the dragons into anonymity. Hiding who they were. Some were even leaving Five Peaks for other small mountain towns, desperate to escape what they feared was the inevitable inability to walk down the street without being noticed.
He couldn’t blame any of them. It was that lack of desire for the spotlight that kept Pietro from revealing what he was to Claire. Besides, he realized, he wanted her to talk to him because of who he was, not what he was.
“I’m Pietro,” he said, sticking out a hand to introduce himself.
Claire glanced at his hand then at her drink. To avoid being rude, she took his hand and shook it, then dropped it and immediately went back to her drink.
“How are you doing today, Claire?” he asked, knowing it sounded lame but having precisely zero idea of what else to say.
She looked at him, her golden-brown gaze holding him with steady regard for a double handful of seconds.