Page 9 of Property of Crypt Keeper

Call me sick or twisted, but I loved it.

Done playing with her, I caught her arm mid-swing, twisted hard, and sent one blade flying. Bold as fuck, she kneed me in the gut, flipped out of my reach, and regrouped at a crouch. When she shot back to her feet, she came up and flew forward so fast, she was able to get the second knife pressed under my chin.

We were close enough that I could see the pulse pounding in her delicate-looking throat. I could smell the thick, dark blood rushing under her skin as if I were a goddamn vampire. My wolf teeth descended, my claws started to reshape my nails.

Eyes locked, I closed my hand around her wrist and squeezed until I heard her bones crack. Slowly, deliberately, I took the knife from her grip and tossed the offensive thing aside.

Quick as lightning, I wrapped a hand around her neck, my claws digging into her smooth flesh. Her eyes didn’t waver from mine as I stared at her pupils blown wide and heard her breath coming fast.

I could kill her.

She knew it.

Yet she didn’t beg. That was the problem.

“Do it,” she taunted softly, chin lifting in challenge. “Or let me go so I can finish the job I came to do.”

Silent, I stared at her, my wolf pacing, circling within my soul. Yet it wasn’t urging death, and I was so confused. Somehow, it pulsed with… possession.

Fascination curled deep and warm in my gut. She was so very wrong in every way. Dangerous as she was beautiful. A walking contradiction.

Yet for reasons I didn’t understand yet, my instincts screamed not to end her. So I stepped back as I released my hold.

Her breath stuttered, surprise flashing across her face before she masked it. She held her wounded hand protectively against her chest.

“You hunt werewolves,” I murmured, voice low. “You obviously came here for me. Why?”

Her lip curled, just barely. “No… I hunt monsters,” she spat.

“Then you picked the wrong fucking one.” I wasn’t a werewolf, but on a full moon, I could understand why people might confuse us for one. Who had talked, though? Few people knew about what happened to me on those nights. We were an extremely small and rare population. Though because my mother had been an amplifier, I was a little different than the usual Rougarou.

She held my gaze for a long beat, as if committing what she’d been able to do to me to memory.

“So did you, Gideon,” she replied. Then she turned and disappeared into the swamp like she’d never been there at all. I could’ve hunted her down. For some reason, I chose not to.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” I shouted after her instead as great heaving breaths expanded my chest. Fuck, I hated that name. Heartbeat slowly returning to normal, I stood there long after the night swallowed her. Blood cooled on my skin, the echo of her scent still humming through my veins.

Demon.

Hunter.

Now she knew I wasn’t what she’d been sent to kill. My wolf growled, pleased. Yet I chastised it. Because whatever she was… she was coming back. I may not be a werewolf, but somehow I didn’t think that mattered to her.

But next time? Because I knew damn well there would be a next time. I needed to be prepared.

The way my wolf gave a satisfied rumble, I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to let her go.

What the fuck was happening in my world?

2

KATALINA

Squinting my eyes and throwing a hand over my face, I rose from my king-size bed at the Ritz-Carlton in New Orleans. I’d obviously left the curtains open last night after I’d returned and collapsed into bed.

I regretted not bringing the male human in the elevator back to my room. From the scent he gave off when his eyes had trailed me from head to toe, he’d happily have joined me. If I’d used him, I would be feeling one hundred percent this morning.

Except I hadn’t been able to get the wolf-boy out of my head.