The Way You Bite(18)

“I’m almost seventy. That’s not young.”

“Two superficial bullets for a wolf of his age? Oh, please. He was toying with you. The question is for what purpose. You may think Dominic is dangerous, but he is nothing compared to Aleksander Dimitrov and the wolves who protect him. That wolf doesn’t do anything without a reason.” Ambrose glanced inside. “Leave. I’ll distract Dominic tonight and delay the treatment. He wants to hurt you for defying his demand for allegiance.” His look turned possessive, and he traced a finger along her neckline. “No one mars this skin other than me.”

…

Vee cut a sharp left to walk the outside perimeter of the house toward her car. A huge hand clamped down on her biceps and spun her. That would bruise.

“Going somewhere, Lady Scarpa?” Hsu-Li smirked. The jerk assumed she’d wilt and bend to his command. Had he forgotten her notorious fights with her father?

She excavated her haughtiest tone, learned from years of aristocratic parties. “How dare you? Let me go.”

“Your father requests a word with you. Now.”

“Maybe tomorrow. Ambrose has ordered me home.” A yank to free her arm failed. “You have no right to treat me this way.”

“I have every right when Dominic gives an order.”

She grabbed her wrist with her opposite hand and jerked, freeing her arm from his grasp, a self-defense move Trace taught her. Instead of running, she leaned into him, surprising him. And jabbed him in the throat.

He gurgled and grabbed his neck.

The move probably bought her mere seconds. She sprinted for her car. One moment she was running. The next she was face down with a burning pain in her back. A huge knife jutted from her side. Bad location. Important organs, like kidneys, were in that area.

Hsu-Li moved fast toward her. She yanked out the knife, took aim, and launched it back at him, scoring a direct chest hit that sent him to the ground. Thank you for training me all those years ago, Trace.

She fumbled her key fob to unlock the car, press the start button, and gun it down the drive. The gate opened automatically from the inside. She tapped out an agitated beat on her steering wheel at the gate’s slow grind to open. The gate guards didn’t make a move to stop her. Dominic must’ve assumed her weak enough for Hsu-Li to handle.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. They’d come for her.





Chapter Six


Vee eyed her apartment building from her car. She loved her place—sleek, modern, and in a safe, upscale downtown neighborhood. The neighbors were quiet and private.

A mental scan of the area came up with no vampires in the area. Dominic’s goons would come unless Ambrose brokered a miracle deal. Unlikely. When her father got an idea in his head, he stuck to it. He probably determined the only way to force her to quit work was to get her pregnant and married, in that order.

Her phone buzzed with a voicemail. A number flashed on the main screen, one she knew by heart as the Scarpa estate main line.

She clicked the message to play. “Velvet, why must you always be difficult?” Dominic purred into the phone. “Requiem” by Verdi played in the background. He only listened to this opera aria when in the foulest of moods. “Hsu-Li says you were…hurt. I do hope you are okay. Go home, my dear. Sleep tonight. Heal. Tomorrow I expect you here at precisely one hour past dusk. Ambrose will be here as well. He informed me you are moving permanently to his country estate. Good, good. So, you may come with him to our meeting tomorrow, if you prefer. If you fail to show… I know you will not disappoint me.” The call ended.

Her freedom plan would have to begin tonight. Maybe a little under budget, but she’d make it work. Phase one was to fake her death.

Her back throbbed, reminding her she might not need to fake her own death if she didn’t take care of herself. Fortunately, her car had dark leather seats. Easy to clean. And, good for masking blood stains, not that she’d bought it with that thought in mind. She craned around to see the knife’s entry point, which hurt. A lot. The seat didn’t show the blood’s color, but it was wet. The coppery smell in combination with light-headedness suggested significant loss. It was almost two a.m., an unlikely hour for a neighborly run-in.

The trek from her car into the apartment building guaranteed to be painful. After a few deep breaths, she pushed out of the car. Vertigo slammed her hard. She stumbled, catching herself on the side of the car before she asphalt face-planted. Get inside. She stumbled to the foyer elevator. This wound might require a lot more than one day of sleep and a few liters of Type O. She didn’t have the luxury of a day’s sleep ahead, not when she’d be on the first possible flight out of Charlotte in the morning.

She flipped the light on as she entered her apartment and threw the keys on the side table. As she turned, her heart took off in a drag race toward panic. “Why are you here?”

“How’s your night going, catifea?” Lexan rose from her suede sofa. His long, powerful legs were encased in denim. His hair was drawn back, throwing his striking face into relief. A black T-shirt with a logo she didn’t recognize was pulled tight over his wide, flat chest beneath a biker jacket. Was there anything sexier than a black T-shirt and jeans?

Not sexy. Scratch that thought from your brain. Think: dangerous, uninvited werewolf in your apartment.

Making a break for it wouldn’t work. She’d be lucky to stumble a few feet down the hallway before she collapsed.