Page 49 of Shadow Hunter

Better him than a vampire who would truly hurt her.

Maybe he’d simply needed to fight for her from the start.

She gaped at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

Damon shrugged, uncharacteristically nonchalant. “You win, you can have your way and I’ll leave you be.”

She turned to face him fully then, clearly intrigued. “And if I don’t?”

A smirk crossed his lips. “Then we work together to kill Caius, you and me. But I call the shots.” He paused for a beat, watching as her mouth quirked a little, revealing that wasn’t too far off from what she actually wanted really. “And then you’re done fighting vamps. For me. For Mark. Until you’re trained at least.”

Her lips tightened, her expression going from one of intrigue to rage in an instant. “No, thanks.” She turned away from him once more.

But he’d counted on that.

“Why not?” he called down the alley after her, trying hard not to feel that familiar ache in his chest as she walked away. “Too scared you’ll lose?” he taunted.

Her hands clenched into fists. Her cheeks flushed with fury. “What did you say?” She glanced over her shoulder toward him.

Damon cast her a haughty smirk. “I said, are you too scared to lose, Shortcake?”

Her gaze raked over him, assessing him in from head to toe. “You’re baiting me,” she said, seeing straight through him.

“Am I?” He quirked a brow, slowly prowling his way toward her. “Is it working?” When they were no more than a foot apart, he circled behind her, dropping his voice low. “Tell me, Tiffany,” he whispered into her ear, “Are you tempted yet?”

Without warning, she threw a spinning roundhouse kick, aiming straight for his head, but at the last second, he ducked just out of her leg reach.

“So close, and yet, so far.” He grinned devilishly.

She growled, her frustration with him making her sloppy. Rounding on him once more, she threw another kick toward his head, but her stance was still too wide, too uneasy, and he blocked her once more, catching her leg in his hands.

He leaned in, bringing them nearly nose to nose, as he used his words to hit her right where it hurt. “If you ever expect to be anything more than Mark’s baby sister, you’re going to have to fight for it.” He knew it was wrong, but he’d do anything, say anything, if only it would get her to let go of all that hurt she was holding.

She growled, aiming a punch straight for his teeth, but he blocked her, snarling viciously.

“You want this, Tiffany. Then fight for it!”

She landed a blow straight to his nose then, blood gushing down his face and staining his teeth, but he didn’t pause for even a second. He had her up against the wall and pinned beneath him within seconds, her wrists captured in his hands.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked. “Let go of me, you—”

“You what? You asshole? Call me it again, Tiffany. Call me it a hundred times, hell more even, if that will get you to stay, get you to listen to me.”

“I hate you!” she shrieked. “I hate you!”

“I know.”

“And I want you.” She growled, surprising him, though she still fought against him.

“I know.” An appreciative smirk crossed his lips, even as she went still in his arms.

“And I missed you,” she breathed, almost quiet enough he didn’t hear it.

He let go of one of her wrists and she cupped his face in her hand then, tears running down her face. “I missed you, B.”

His gaze softened. “Me too, Shortcake.”

He kissed her then like he’d wanted to since that first night, like it’d been years that he was gone, instead of a few months, a handful of weeks, finally giving them the reunion, he’d always wanted with her from the moment he’d first drawn her near.

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