Page 13 of Skin Trade

The creature was behind her. It slashed out, a whip of air across her back and the sting of claws just grazing her top. She slammed into the door at Seth’s building, almost going through the glass with the momentum of her run, but the door opened, and she dashed in, tripping, falling, straight into the waiting arms of Seth as she slammed against his chest.

He caught her with one arm, hooked it around her and spun. The creature, unlike her, did go through the glass, smashing its way into the lobby. Fangs as long as a tiger’s, it snarled at her and Seth, deranged in where it was and seeing only food ahead of it.

Seth lifted his other arm in one fluid movement and fired a bullet with precision into the thing’s skull. It slumped to the floor in a skid of blood and goo and something that smelt fresh out of the sewer as it spilt onto the floor.

“T-that thing … I-It.” Payton could hardly catch her breath, and she hadn’t yet realised Seth still had his arm across her chest where he had pushed her back and stepped in front of her.

“Dead.”

“There were so many. Like … everywhere.” She leant her head back against his shoulder and took a moment of comfort from him. His body was a warm solid wall she could hold onto.

“What did you think you were going to find out there? Sunshine and ice cream?” he asked.

A flash of anger. Despite how much she liked standing with him, she pushed his arm off her and moved away. “You knew they were out there?”

Seth opened the handle of the gun and fingered at the liquid pellets all huddled together. “Of course, I knew they were out there.”

“And you let me go? You watched me walk outside.”

A shrug. “I waited for you. I knew you’d be back. Albeit, I didn’t think you’d bring me a guest and leave it that I need to fix my door.”

“You knew what was out there and you let me go? Are you sick? Sick in the head? I …”

He put the safety back on his gun and slid it onto the reception desk. “What did you want me to do?”

“Warn me.”

“You wanted to leave. I let you leave.”

Fury stole her words for a second as she stared at the infuriating man in front of her. She wasn’t sure what it was with him. With Creven, she’d have never dared to answer back, but him … him … God, she wanted to throttle him.

“Should I have kept you prisoner, Payton? Locked you in your room? Restrained you with handcuffs.” That smile again. “I do have handcuffs, you know. And I am more than willing to use them.”

“No.”

"No?" His eyes flashed, and she saw that hint of fang again. He did that on purpose. The more powerful a vampire was, the easier they could hide what they were. He was teasing her. She knew it, and she couldn't stop that flash of excited curiosity that rode her body despite the anger at him letting her leave.

He picked up on it too because a second later, images of her hands cuffed above her head, her chest bare, Seth leaning above her …

“Stop it.”

And he laughed as he snatched the images back from her mind. “For now,” he said. “Just for now.”

Chapter Eleven

It was harder to walk away from Seth than Payton could imagine. That pull he had, like a weapon he held in his soul, it called to her for whatever reason; it had picked her, and she fought it. God, did she fight it, with every step she took away from him. He watched her. She could feel the weight of his gaze pressing into her back, like a hand, reaching from his eyes to her body and stroking down her spine in a flood of heat that curled itself into her body and went to the juncture between her legs.

She’d not turn to look at him. No. Fuck him and his damn games.

It was hard not to touch her chest, to hold herself in that place where his arm had rested against her as he’d held her, spun her to safety and shot the damn thing that was going to eat her. He’d managed to leave an impression of his arm against her, like an echo of the way he’d held her.

Did that make him her saviour? Fuck. He’d be bragging about that tomorrow.

It was funny, Payton supposed she could come up with these ideas about Seth. She’d known him less than twenty-four hours, yet she felt she knew him more than she’d ever known anyone. And her mind wanted to make up these stories about him as if they were true.

In truth, she didn’t know shit about him. He was a vampire, he was rich … he was …

He was in her head.

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