Well, they are just outside a bar…and it’s a Hunter’s sort of party. Where bad & bloody things happen. Sigh. Going to miss this world.
A faint smile curved the lush pink of her mouth, left him wondering what she was thinking. Then somebody came tumbling out of the bar next to her, spilling bright lights of blue and red onto the sidewalk, andToronto had a better idea.
As the rainbow of lights flickered off the blade she’d concealed in her left hand, he studied the crush of people around them. It wasn’t as crowded here as it was just a few streets over on Beale, but it was still crowded enough.
Not the ideal place for a fight. He’d done it before and managed to avoid human casualties, but he suspected that Sylvia James was a different breed from what he was used to. Ferals fought to live, so they could kill—by nature, most of them weren’t always clearheaded. Sylvia, like him, was a trained killer. She would be clearheaded. It would make a difference.
He hunted the ferals.
She hunted for money.
In the end, he’d win, because he was stronger.
But he didn’t want to have to fight her. He wanted to have sex with her—down and dirty sex, maybe up against a wall, in the light so he could watch her. Then on a bed, her body under his, or over . . . his hands tangled in that dark, silken hair.
“You know, most men would at least bother to introduce themselves before the guy starts picturing the woman naked,” she drawled, coming to a stop eighteen inches away.
Torontosmirked. “That’s bullshit. We see a woman, we frequently picture them naked. We mess with the names when we want to actually think about getting them in bed. Some of us, at least.” He skimmed a look over her body, taking in the sleek muscles, the powerhouse curves. Then he focused on her face again, smiled slowly. “So. What’s your name?”
She laughed. “Oh, you’re smooth. Too bad I’m only in town for a little while.”
“Hmmm.” She cocked a black brow at him. “Am I interrupting something important? You sounded sort of aggravated on the phone.”
“You like listening to private conversations?”
With a lazy shrug, she sauntered around him.Torontotracked her movements by watching her reflection in the window of the nearest bar. As she circled back around in front of him, he checked her knife hand. Still in the left hand, tucked out of sight so nobody would see it unless they were looking for it. She was very, very good.
He was just better.
I mentioned a few days ago, it looks like this will be the final Hunter book. You can read more about it here.
And I’d love it if you sent it off with a bang and preordered it…
Other authors out on the snippet line…