“Actually, it won’t be okay, Kevin,” Slater said, walking briskly to her right. He wasn’t the monster she’d imagined. No horns, no yellow teeth, no scarred face. He looked like a jock with short blond hair, tight tan slacks, a torso cut like a gymnast’s. A large, red tattoo of a heart branded over his breast. She could have met this man a dozen times over the years and not taken notice. Only his eyes gave him away. They were far away, light gray eyes, like a wolf’s. If Kevin’s eyes swallowed her, Slater’s were the kind she might bounce off of. He even smiled like a wolf.
