Page 21 of A Curse in Darkness

“You say you want me. You follow me. You track me. Why?”

“Because you are…”

“If you say because I’m yours, I will hang up and never answer another one of your phone calls again.

He made a rough sound. “Then because I want…”

“Same goes if you say you want me under you, or you want to fuck me. Or any variation of the same theme.”

Silence.

Why did that sting? It shouldn’t. I knew this already. It was an animal thing, a lust thing, and not a me thing. “That’s what I thought.”

“Hang on a minute—”

“You need to find someone else to focus all that horny energy on. It’s wasted on me. I need to go.”

“Dove,” he snarled.

I disconnected and ignored the barrage of calls and text messages that followed. He was in Linville and I was in Roxburgh. He was fast, but it took thirty minutes by car, and a little less when he shifted and ran. With any luck, I’d be done with whatever this was and home again by the time he got here. Because there was no doubt in my mind that he was already on his way.

I turned left, then right, then left again, weaving through the streets, no idea where I was going, only that this was where I needed to be. I ended up in a fairly rough part of the city. There were a lot of dive bars around here, and this particular area was known for its frequent gang altercations and the odd semi-regular murder.

The tingling grew stronger, to the point it made me want to scratch at my skin. I pulled over, parking across from a bar, and it was like a siren going off in my head. Here. Whatever was about to happen, it was here.

The sign above the door was neon and lopsided, and there were a couple letters missing. I assumed it was supposed to be Angus’s Bar. Instead, Anus Bar flashed unwelcomingly. Tough break, Angus.

Tingles danced across my scalp and down my spine. Yes, this was most definitely where I was supposed to be. I checked for my blade again and shoved the car door open. I’d taken two steps across the street when a thump from behind had me spinning around.

Ren was standing there, running his fingers through his wind-blown hair.

“What are you doing here? Were you hiding in the back of my truck?”

He closed the space between us. “I wasn’t hiding, I was resting there in case you needed me. I was right.”

Goddammit.

There was nothing I could do about it now. He was here, and I knew him well enough to know there was no way I could make him stay in the truck while I went into the bar. “You need to do as I say, Ren, I mean it.” The prickling feeling at my side was so bad it was distracting as hell. “No heroics.”

He muttered something.

“What was that?”

“I’m not a damned child, Willow.”

Hmm. When I looked at him, I still saw the scrawny fourteen-year-old kid, the boy who followed me everywhere like an excited puppy.

“You said you’ve been training?”

He straightened. “Yes.”

“With a weapon?”

His eyes widened slightly, more than likely realizing the full magnitude of this situation, then his jaw firmed and he shook his head and patted his jacket pocket. “But I have a knife.”

I inwardly groaned. “I have no idea what’s brought me here, but I know it’s not good. You do not take that knife out of your pocket, do you hear me? Until you know how to use it, you’re a danger to yourself and everyone else.”

“Willow—”