It was him. Green Eyes. Ren. That was his name. Now I remembered. I started to step forward, but he beat me to it. Moving as quickly as a damn snake striking, he caught my wrists. He didn’t yank my arms to my sides. All he did was hold my fists away from his face.
A lopsided grin appeared on those full lips. “Can’t say I’m entirely surprised you took a swing at me.”
“Then I guess this won’t surprise you either.” Leaning back, I shifted my weight onto my left leg, but again, Ren outmaneuvered me with a quickness that was sort of embarrassing.
He stepped into what would’ve been a fantastic kick and forced me back against the wall. Then there was nowhere to go, no space whatsoever. My back was against the building, and the entire length of his hard body was pressed against mine.
Son of a bitch.
As if he could read my mind, that grin spread and the dimples played peekaboo. “Now I think we can have a conversation without me ending up bloody.”
I blew out an aggravated breath. “I wouldn’t bet on that not happening.”
He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through me. I couldn’t even remember being this close to a guy since . . . since Shaun. “Look, I’m sorry for snatching you off the street like a kidnapper, but you were about to make yet another huge mistake.”
His apology was lost on me. “Make another mistake?”
“Yeah, like the one last night that ended with you getting shot.” He dipped his chin, and the yellow glow of the light attached to the wall above us glanced off his broad cheekbones. “I know what you were about to do.”
“I didn’t make a mistake last night. I was doing my job,” I spat. “And I doubt your job includes grabbing chicks off the street.”
“That would be a hell of a lot more entertaining, but the moment you thought you could engage that fae last night, you made a mistake. And you were about to do it again, you little ass.”
“Little ass?” I sputtered. “You grabbed me off the street like a serial killer!”
“And I’ve apologized for that even though you should be thanking me. I just saved your life, sweetness.”
Floored, all I could do was stare at him for a moment. “You’re insane.”
“I’m a lot of things, but today I’m your fucking saving grace.”
YOU ARE READING
Things are about to get Wicked in New Orleans. Twenty-two year old Ivy Morgan isn’t your average college student. She, and others like her, know humans aren’t the only thing trolling the French Quarter for fun… and for food. Her duty to the Order is...