Page 7 of A Velvet Kiss After Dark

He surprised her by answering. “Got jumped. More of them than there was of me.”

He’d always seemed so invincible, like he could do anything. But here he was at his low: bloodied, hurt, and beaten.

“By who?”

“No one you know.”

“How many were there?”

“Writing your next story?” Adhesive tape screeched as he ripped a length off and gave her a deadpan look.

She flushed but refused to look away. “You’re the reason I’m moving, you know.” She pointed at the stacks of boxes piled up in her living space. “It’s hard to sleep in the house where your goon friends felt me up and tried to kill me.”

It was his turn to look away, a tight expression fixed on his face. Then, biting his bottom lip, he shoved his fingers inside the wound at his gut. Fresh blood coursed down his hand and dripped onto the floor.

“What are you doing?” she cried out, nearly reaching to grab his hand to stop the madness.

Breathing harshly, he rummaged around for a minute and, grunting, slowly extracted something from inside him. He tossed the item to the floor and collapsed, exhausted with blood covering his hands.

Tabitha picked up the item—a chunk from the end of a silver blade. It’d broken off inside his body.

She eyed his wound. Unable to endure the sight of blood, she grabbed a towel and pressed it again the injury. He flinched, hands clenching, but he didn’t fight her.

Her voice softened. “Off the record, tell me what happened.”

“A lot of people would prefer me dead,” he said as if that explained it all.

“How many preferred you dead tonight?”

A long sigh. “Does it matter?”

“Honestly? No. I’m just curious.”

A hint of a smile curled his lips upward. “Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” His eyes closed as he continued to take slow, even breaths. “Five. There were five.”

“Were or vampire?”

Another long breath, as if he was contemplating whether or not to tell her. “Were.”

“They must have been strong. That’s some serious bruising you’ve got.”

A snort came in response. “I’ll heal.”

“Where did this happen at?”

“Not far from here. That’s why I busted ass to get here. Closest place I have to go.”

She didn’t want to think about the fact that a dangerous Were mercenary who made a living assassinating enemies for a steep price had managed to find sanctuary in her tiny apartment on the east end of St. Louis. She, a human, petite, short, eyeglass-wearing, nosy reporter with few friends, few family and—usually—few problems could do very little to offer protection to an assassin. Her list of problems, however, had grown exponentially once Kane Gunner entered her life.

“When do you plan to leave? The last thing I want is more thugs at my door, if you catch my meaning.”

He threw an arm over his eyes. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Right,” she remarked sarcastically. “Because you stopped those five Weres from beating you up so well.”

His lifted his arm to scowl at her. “Do me a favor and be quiet. I need to get some sleep. I’ll heal faster that way. Then I’ll be out of your way, little girl.”

Her mouth pinched at the jab. She was plenty self-conscious about her barely five-foot-tall frame; of which she’d been teased about all her life.

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