More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Nausea hit him in the throat, and he squeezed his eyes closed. That didn’t help. It only made him aware of the fact his heartbeat hurt in his sinuses and it felt like someone had shot him in the shoulder again.
Marlow exhaled hard and watched a fine splatter of blood droplets spray over what was left of his windshield. That wasn’t good.
“Marlow. Kit,” Cade said. His voice was thin, like it had been dragged through his teeth on a wire. “I really liked you.” “You don’t know me,” Marlow said. He rolled over and scrambled onto his knees. His back was sweaty despite the evening chill, his T-shirt stuck to him. “That probably helps.”
Ten years on the Night Shift, his whole life as a null, and Marlow had never seen a wolf shift before. Why should he? It wasn’t a crime to be a wolf, so until they did something that meant Night Shift got called in, they weren’t Marlow’s business.
Marlow ran. That was step one of his plan. He hoped that step two would come to him soon.
Marlow had been right there, ripe with sweat and fresh blood, to whet Cade’s appetite. And then Marlow had set him on fire. That was the sort of thing that kept a werewolf on your heels all night long.
One thing Cade had learned over the years was act like you didn’t care enough and eventually it would be true. Indifference could be a shield. Or a weapon.
He drained his cup and tossed it into the nearest bin as he stalked away. Marlow didn’t chase after him, which meant there were at least six withering put-downs that Cade wouldn’t get to use.
“I’ve got maternal instincts,” she said. “My pet rat ate my favorite bra, and I didn’t yeet it out the window.” “Mother of the year,” Marlow drawled.
“A date? Most boys want dinner, not a shootout.”
“Maybe next time you take me to dinner instead of a gunfight,” Marlow suggested, his voice ragged.
“Not a typical date,” he admitted. “Date-adjacent. If you want it to be.”
It wasn’t fair. When you’d seen someone naked once, by rights, it should lose some impact. Apparently not.
“I am sorry,” Marlow said. “For setting me on fire or for not realizing I thought I’d eaten you?”
IT WAS EMOTIONAL edging.
“You need to marry that guy,” he said firmly, a finger pointed at Cade’s nose. “Lock him down. I don’t think you’ve been in this good a mood since….” He trailed off and blew his cheeks out as he tried to think of an example. Finally, he gave up with a shrug.
If Marlow chased him, then he’d get what he wanted without having to admit he wanted it. Or he’d not get anything.
Yet he could still feel the dull ache of kicked pride in his chest and a weird sort of panic clutch at his throat. If Marlow didn’t want his money, wasn’t seduced by the lifestyle, then what the hell did Cade have to offer him?
“And I’m not going anywhere. Next date’s on you, remember? I want to see if you can actually ask me out without insulting me somehow.”
“Breakups like that?” she said. “They’re why I work on my marriage. Divorce isn’t worth that. Add it to the briefing folder and go get some coffee. I don’t want you dying on me halfway through the night.”
Marlow stared after her while his mind tangled itself in erratic, suspicious knots. It could have been a chance choice of words, or it could have been a taunt at someone she thought was still oblivious to the plan to kill them.
