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“No.”

Stepping closer to me, her gaze dropped toward the blood washing away from my foot. “You’re bleeding.”

Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I kept three feet between us. “I’m fine.”

She glanced at the gun in my hand and instead of quickly rushing away, concern crossed her face. “Can I help you?”

The sensible part of me wanted to say yes. She was a woman. She spoke English. She had an umbrella and probably a phone.

But Aunt Delphine had not raised me to mistake beauty for safety.

“I don’t need help.”

“Something is wrong. Who hurt you?” She stepped closer.

I moved backward. “I’m good.”

“My room is nearby, I can take you somewhere warm.”

“I’m warm enough.”

That was the damned problem. The ache in my lower belly sharpened. I pressed my thighs together.

And to my shock, the woman’s gaze flicked downward to my pussy.

Huh?

For one strange second, hunger flashed across her face.

Then it disappeared.

Oh, hell no.

Every warning inside me screamed.

I tightened my grip on the gun.

The woman held out her hand. “Come with me.”

Lightning split the sky. White light washed across the street and illuminated the tattoo on her arm.

OH FUCK!!!

Now I got a great view of those tattoos and knew it wasn’t ink. It was all a curse, shaped into hands. Dozens of black hands clutched her shoulder, gripped her biceps, and wrapped around her forearm. They looked exactly like the hands covering Yoichi’s chest and stomach.

My breath caught.

She’s connected to him somehow.

“I’m sure you’re hungry too.” The woman stepped closer.

The cedar scent thickened.

My bite pulsed.

No.