Page 142 of Primal Bonds

“I said, mind if I join you?” A surprisingly deep voice, gravel wrapped in silk.

She gave a shake of her head. “Yes.”

He lifted a single dark brow. “No, you don’t mind, or yes, you do?”

“Yeah, I mind. I don’t want company.”

His gaze went to the slight lump her quartz made beneath her sweater. “Your accent is American, which means you’re from one of two clans.”

Fine hairs rose all over her body. He was correct; the only earth fada clans in North America were her own clan in Baltimore and the Navajo clan in Arizona.

But how the hell had he made her as an earth fada so fast?

Her nostrils flared, subtly testing the air. Human—he smelled of salt and iron—but with a trace of silver. The man had fae blood, although it might be so faint he didn’t know it himself. Overlaying it was a pleasant grassy scent, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors.

Her cat liked his smell, but the human part of her didn’t like that hint of fae. Not on top of the fact that he knew a little too much about earth fada.

Easing the switchblade from her pocket, she released the catch.

“You don’t want to use that.” He set his plate and glass on her table and took the chair across from her.

“No?”

“No.” He leaned back in his chair, resting an arm on the back as if she were an old friend instead of a pissed-off shifter with a sharp blade aimed at his privates. “Too messy.”

“How did you know I’m an earth fada?” she asked, soft and dangerous. “Did Corban send you?”

“Who?” His surprise seemed genuine—and besides, her cousin would never ally himself with a human.

She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Don’t worry.” His voice dropped. “No one else in here noticed—or if they did, they didn’t care. Icelanders are used to magical creatures.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

“What was the question?”

Her breath hissed between her teeth. The man was maddening.

“How,” she repeated, “did you know what I am?”

He grinned, a flash of white against tanned skin. “It’s your walk.”

“My walk?”

“You didn’t walk in here, you flowed—like a dancer…or a cat. Every earth fada I’ve ever met walks like that.”

She made a mental note to clomp out of the pub like a freaking Clydesdale horse. “And that interests you—why?”

“It doesn’t. I just liked the look of you. If you want me to leave, I will.”

She relaxed fractionally. He was right, she didn’t want to draw attention. And his scent had the pureness of truth. He didn’t mean her harm.

In fact, all she scented was…interest, of the sexual kind. Was he flirting with her?

She scowled, sick of being on edge all the time. Hating that she couldn’t have a simple conversation with a stranger without going into fight-or-flight mode.

Yeah, she was jumpy because of Corban, but this wasn’t about her cousin.

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