Page 47 of Pretty Little Prey
Bastille clutched the arm of his chair so hard, it made a cracking sound. “They won’t find her.”
“They know we have a cabin in the woods.”
“They don’t know we have her,” Bastille said. “Yet.”
“There might have been a witness at the hotel,” Sly said. “We did kind of kidnap her right off the street. Someone could point to our car and find us.”
“What happens if they come knocking at our door, Bastille?” Nikolai asked. “Are we giving her to them or what?”
Bastille cracked his knuckles, staring his friend down. “I will die before I let him have an ounce of happiness that his mate would bring him.”
“Still doesn’t clear up what the plan is for her,” Sly said.
Soft noise came from down the long hallway, and the men each sat up straighter in their seats in the living room, preparing to see her. Bastille ran a hand down his black shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles, and Sly smirked at him, noticing.
“Moonbeam.” Kobe shot up to stand as she walked into the room. “I made you lemon blueberry pancakes. They are cold, but I will heat them.” He strode back toward the small kitchen.
Bastille’s lips pursed, and his eyes widened at the way Lunasmiledat Kobe. Had he truly ever seen her smile? It lit up her entire face, stunning the basilisk from where he sat—as if she was the one with the power to petrify.
“Thanks, I’m hungry,” she commented and sank onto the couch where Kobe had been sitting. Defensive, she crossed her arms over her chest as she glanced around at the other three men. “What’s the plan for today?”
“You slept away half of it,” Bastille grated.
She shrugged. “I was tired.”
“Does the dragon know he has a lazy mate?”
She scowled, pointing an angry finger at him. “I amnotlazy. You have no idea how hard I’ve worked—” she cut herself off, letting Bastille reel in the fact that he craved her to finish the sentence and share any morsel of information about herself. Not to use against her, but because he was curious.
Nikolai’s phone dinged. He checked it as Bastille and Luna glared at each other, neither breaking eye contact. The vampire’s phone dinged again. And again. And again.
Ding.
Cursing, Bastille broke the staring contest he had with Luna to look over at Nikolai. “What’s going on over there?”
“The dragon’s men are getting closer. Within fifteen miles.”
Bastille cursed again.
“Should we head out and do a little slaughtering? I’m thirsty,” Nikolai said.
Luna gasped and gaped at him.
“Unless you’re offering?” the vampire smiled at her, tilting his head. “I love the taste of lamb chops in the morning.”
“Rude.”
“It was a compliment.”
“A gross one.”
Nikolai—a constantly stern, expressionless vampire—smiled. A half smile, but still a smile.At her.
Bastille stood, maneuvering between them to block her. Bastille positioned his back to her, as if he was able to ignore her completely. Speaking to Nikolai, Bastille said, “You, me, and Kobe.” The dark king chose his team. “Let’s send them in the opposite direction.”
“I get to stay with the little lamb?” Sly smirked. “Best Tuesday ever.”
“We could all go,” she said, stretching out her arms and legs. Did she think of it as some kind of field trip? “I’d like to get out of the house.”
