Page 25 of You Only Love Twice
"Indeed."
She eased back another step, licking her lips nervously.
"Do you truly think you can outrun me?"
No. Gemma lifted her chin in a show of false bravado. "In these skirts and my favorite heeled boots? I doubt it. You've always been faster than I am, even in bare feet." Her options were rapidly narrowing. No weapons. Nowhere to hide. "The question is... do I have reason to run?"
"I don't know." His rough voice sounded dangerous. "You tell me."
"You've been following me."
He took another step through the bar of moonlight.
Gemma took a step back. "You killed thatdhampirwho attacked me in the museum."
"Whatdhampir?" The bastard was taunting her.
"And you healed me with your blood," she whispered. "Ava spent days trying to work out what was wrong with me and why my craving virus levels went through the roof then returned to normal. I knew. I knew deep in my heart what you were, and what you'd done. I barely caught a glimpse of your face, but I could feel you there."
"Very good, Gemma. You're almost there."
"What do you want from me?"
Silence.
A tense, prickling silence in which she could almost feel his gaze sliding over her body like a caress. For the first time, she saw hesitation within him. He didn't know himself.
She released a shuddering breath. "If you wanted me dead, then I would be dead. You've had more than enough chances."
"If I wanted you dead, you would be. All I would have had to do was stand aside."
Referring, no doubt, to thedhampirin the museum who'd tried to kill her.
"Perhaps I'm not that easy to kill."
"Perhaps."
Gemma tensed. "So what now?"
"Are you going to come quietly?"
She tipped her chin up. "What do you think?"
The faintest of smiles touched his mouth, but then she blinked and wondered if she'd imagined it.
"Loudly. Quietly. It doesn't matter. You will come in the end."
"Interesting choice of words."
His gaze flattened. "You're not escaping me, Miss Townsend."
We will just see about that. She turned and fled, fists pumping at her sides. Not toward the door, but the window beside it.
Gemma threw herself into a slide, plucking a shard of razor-sharp glass from the windowsill at the bottom. Pain slashed through her fingers and a part of her—the predator part—reared within her at the scent of blood, but she had no time to worry about it.
"You think a piece of glass is going to stop me?" He stalked toward her.
"My apologies," Gemma panted, raking the room for something else she could use as a weapon. "Someone very inconveniently removed all my weapons. I am reduced to this."
