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“You know nothing about what I want, sunshine.” I walked toward her, eating up what was left of the distance between us. She didn’t look appropriately afraid, which was fine with me. “But to make it clear, it’s not Colton. Although…” I didn’t take my eyes off her. “He wants me. You may be blind to a lot, but you can obviously see that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be out here trying to scare me away with your empty threats and bad dye job.” I offered her a tight, manufactured smirk. “If I have to guess which bitch is hunting for the easy life, me thinks that’s you.” I jabbed my finger into her bony chest. “I’m not the golden girl anymore, and I’m sure as shit not innocent, so I’ll happily fuck Colton and kick the ever-loving shit out of you before I let you trap him in a marriage, you gold-digging wannabe.”

I smiled, feeling my body come alive. It had been a while since I’d had a good old-fashioned bitch fight, and I’d been jonesing for one. Not that I thought this one would last long. I’d wipe the floor with this twig.

She surprised me by shoving me back, with force that didn’t match her scrawny arms. Because I wasn’t prepared, I stumbled, but I didn’t fall because I wasn’t completely inept.

I glanced at her in surprise. “Color me surprised, Joanna.”

“It’s Angela,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

“I don’t care.” I quickly reared back my arm, not hesitating to throw a punch in her face. The satisfying crunch and the radiating ache in my arm were like a hit of cocaine. She didn’t go down like I expected her to, she only toppled a few steps before straightening her stance. Her face contorted into a sneer, her eyes widening, almost glowing.

Many people would dismiss it as a trick of the light, but I wasn’t most people, and the back of my neck tingled with awareness.

Maybe it was just a trick of the light. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’d have a worthy opponent.

And maybe—granted, the chance was small—my supernatural target could be someone I’d greatly enjoy killing. Though it would be more complicated, especially if I did engage in a public bitch fight with her, then she went missing.

The smart option—arguably, even if she weren’t a supernatural entity—was to step back, go inside, de-escalate, and be the better person.

Except I wasn’t a good person, not even a little bit.

So I sprung forward, intending to dodge the punch I knew was coming. But I misjudged her speed and competency. Instead of her fist finding air, it caught me dead center, or a little to the right. At least I got to hear the satisfying crack of bone in her hand as her fist collided with my face.

Spots danced in my vision as I staggered back, pain shooting through my mouth. I tasted copper, leaning to spit blood onto Sharon’s Italian pavers before looking up to grin at Angela.

Her own teeth were bared in a decidedly unladylike snarl, eyes still glowing almost unnaturally. I wasn’t the best judge at the time, though, since my bell had been wrung by someone I hadn’t thought could so much as change a tire, let alone throw a punch.

“And here I was, thinking you were no fun.” I spat again before I rushed forward.

This time, I was quick enough to feint left and land a satisfying punch to her midsection. Her grunt of discomfort was music to my ears.

“Now,” I murmured, getting her in a headlock. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? Like a fifth grader?”

She writhed in my grip, her heel slamming into my shin. Stupid fucking me, thinking that the stilettos she wore were nothing but a trick by men to keep women uncomfortable and easier to chase. I hadn’t imagined them serving as such efficient weapons.

As agony speared through my shin and I felt the warmth of blood trickling down into my boot, my hold apparently loosened enough for her to escape me.

I was rusty if I couldn’t take down a fucking twig-like socialite with only a few whiskeys under my belt.

“Maybe I judged you too soon.” I straightened, hands on my hips as we circled each other. “I may actually like you.”

“The feeling is not mutual, bitch.” Advancing, her fury-filled gaze was near feral.

I shrugged, grinning. “Enemies are better than friends anyway.”

We clashed twice more, both of us landing a punch each. My eye throbbed from where it had only just begun healing, promising the bruise to bloom even darker.

My body sang at the soreness and adrenaline from a good old-fashioned catfight, where the stakes were not so high as my life being ended by a bloodthirsty supernatural animal wanting to feast on my entrails.

It was refreshing. Calming, even.

Like a day at the spa. Or yoga.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Colton bellowed from somewhere above us, followed by footsteps, and a soft, feminine voice letting out a polite string of curses.

I was pulled backward, into a strong, warm, sweet-smelling chest. “For fuck’s sake, Hadley,” Colton murmured in my ear as his father restrained a still writhing Angela.

I didn’t fight in Colton’s arms because I knew it would drive the bitch crazy to see her fiancé holding on to me instead of her.