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The Holy and the Hunted

Page 92

by Anne Malcom

He looked far too fresh at this hour of the morning—clean black tee clinging to his abs, dark jeans, shiny belt, boots. Hair pulled up into a man bun, a dark shadow of stubble on his jaw.

I, on the other hand, was braless, still wearing whatever remained of last night’s makeup and a messy rat’s nest of hair piled on top of my head in front of these two annoyingly handsome men. Both of whom I’d made out with recently.

“This is trespassing,” I told Dante. “Arrest him.” I turned to Colton, not entirely serious. Though if Colton took me seriously, I wouldn’t mind either.

Colton straightened, putting down his coffee before taking long, measured steps toward Dante until they were standing toe to toe.

“I was just kidding.” I gulped down more coffee. “Kind of.”

Both men acted like they couldn’t hear me, too busy in a toxic male standoff. While Colton looked pissed off and menacing, Dante was smirking as always, and seeming to be enjoying it.

“I like your cologne.” Dante tilted his head, sniffing Colton.

Colton still didn’t speak; he just stood in front of Dante, radiating fury, not speaking. It was weird but not surprising, given the bottled-up anger I could sense inside Colton when it came to Dante. More accurately, at Dante’s connection to me.

“Are you guys going to kiss?” I asked sweetly. “Although it may not be my thing, I’ll get my phone out. I’m sure I’d make a mint off it.”

A lie.

It would kind of be my thing to watch them kiss.

Scowling, Colton backpedaled, but Dante looked amused. “He’s handsome but not my type.” Dante winked pointedly at me. “But if we add a third, I could manage it.”

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth at his insinuation—that asshole. Despite his teasing tone, there was a possessiveness radiating from him that made my skin crawl. Or I told myself it made my skin crawl. I was not a man’s possession. Would never be.

I gave him my middle finger because I didn’t trust myself to speak without a rasp.

“Something is going on here.” Colton’s clipped words broke the spell between Dante’s twinkling eyes and my pussy.

I swallowed the knot in my throat, turning to him. “Yes, Dante is punching way out of his league.” I snatched my coffee back up, taking a last swallow.

Colton narrowed his blue eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean, Hadley. You two arriving in town together.” He angrily waved his hand between us before settling his glare upon a smiling Dante. “You being a fucking FBI agent investigating animal attacks. None of this is right.”

It was only a matter of time before Colton concluded this, smelling something off, though I was hoping I’d be long gone before that happened.

“None of it is right,” Dante agreed, walking over to a wall where there was a photo of Colton and me displayed. After one of his championship games. Colton, red-faced, grinning, holding the ball. Me at his side, cheerleading uniform and all. “Because you expected Hadley to come home, blonde-haired, doe-eyed, tail between her legs, ready for you to rescue her, and now she’s this strong, magnificent creature, not in need of saving, and not worshipping the ground you walk on?”

I stared at Dante. Struggling to digest his compliments of me, the bite to his usually teasing voice, and the disdain he seemed to have for Colton.

Colton looked like he was going to argue, but Dante wasn’t done.

“And you’re on the offense about my presence because of my familiarity toward Hadley and the woman she is now, not my badge.” He tapped his belt, where the fake badge was indeed displayed. “Which is well within its rights of being here since you’ve had over thirty-eight animal attacks in less than thirteen years, all with wounds that would pass just enough for an animal but not quite enough to rule out a human attacker. Something you never bothered to investigate. And since I’m hunting for a serial killer, I’m well within my jurisdiction to be here. Which is what I’m sure you heard when you called my home office.”

My heart thundered, watching Dante in action. He was confident, serious, and authoritative—none of the things that usually turned me on, but I had to admit, it was attractive. The very air seemed to darken around him as I watched him fasten his fury onto Colton, oozing danger, violence. I remembered just how lethal Dante was when he wanted to be. Not taking into account whatever spells he might’ve had in his arsenal.

Colton’s mouth thinned, and his shoulders hunched just a little. He was embarrassed. Maybe slightly emasculated.

I couldn’t say I didn’t feel bad for him, but a large part of me was satisfied by this dressing down since he kind of deserved it.

When his fists clenched at his sides and his nostrils flared, I worried for a second that he might punch Dante. But just like the thought of them kissing, I didn’t hate the prospect of them fighting, just to see who would win. Dante, probably, because he’d fight dirty, and Colton was too honorable for that.

Instead of punching Dante, Colton turned to me. “Am I going to hear that you’re involved in the attack on Sarah Jenkins?”

I stared at him, blindsided by the rapid change in subject. “Sarah was attacked?” I was genuinely surprised to hear this.

He nodded. “And I know that you’ve had a couple of interactions with her, which I doubt were pleasant, given who she is and who you are … now. You were never really friends even when you were friends.”

I recoiled in surprise at that. I didn’t think teenage boys were perceptive enough to understand the intricacies of female—especially teenage girl—friendships, capable of seeing all the cruel underpinnings of such relationships.