This is it. He's going to die, and I'll be free.
At the last second, he moved, and I was suddenly pinned up against the wall, the silver dagger now in his hand. He pressed the blade to my throat, a sadistic grin creeping across his face.
"Oh, Reese...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Panic shot through me.
Damn it, damn it, damn it!
After all the trouble I'd gone through to get away! I'd probably succeeded in losing those two werewolves from Union Station, too.
All it took was one mistake. One slip-up. One moment of pure stupidity.
Why did you answer the phone? Why, why, why?
It's safe to say that my inner voice was as upset with me as I was.
The sound of the Alpha's voice was playing on loop in my head. Part of me - mostof me - wanted it gone. I never wanted to hear his amused, taunting tone again.
Another part - a much, muchsmaller part - wanted to hear him again. Wanted to seehim.
Why, you lunatic? That's suicide.
Anger flooded into me.
I set down my coffee, steam still rising from the slit in the lid. Next, I picked up my phone, and, after a moment's hesitation, slammed it against the edge of the table.
The screen shattered with a sharp crack.
It wasn't enough, though. My emotions were running wild, fear and anger dominating my thoughts. I smashed the phone again.
And again.
And again.
And yet again.
Then, for good measure, I threw it across the room. It hit the wall next to the door and fell limply to the floor.
"What?" I snapped at a nearby human who was staring at me with wide eyes. He just shook his head rapidly and averted his gaze. Smart human.
I proceeded to glare at anybody who dared to look in my general direction. My left hand was in my pocket again, gripping the silver dagger.
I needed to leave. Immediately.
Standing up, abandoning my coffee and croissants on the table, I made to leave.
I took two steps before the door swung open.
Oh, no.
Three men walked in - three tall, broad-shouldered, and rather attractive. They moved into Starbucks with a grace most humans didn't have - myself included.
Werewolves.
I recognized the first two from Union Station - Keith and Oliver. I couldn't see them very well in the gloom of the subway tunnel, but now I can see just how similar they look - brothers, no doubt, probably twins. Their features were nearly identical - from the mop of light brown hair sitting on top of their heads down to the distinctive point of their chin. The only difference between them was the one blue eye on one and the crooked nose on the other.
