Sonofa—
She turned and ran. As fast as she could and it just wasn’t fast enough because the Reaper grabbed her with those gloved hands of his and yanked her back. Before she could even get the breath to scream—she’d always been a good screamer—he’d shoved her against the dirty, brick wall of that alley. He pinned her between the bricks and his body, and his hands pressed hers back, holding her captive easily. Too easily.
“I am not in the mood for a chase.” Each word was gritted and his face had turned even harder. “If I have to do it, I will tie you up and gag you and you can travel that way for the entire trip back to Key West.”
“That’s kidnapping,” she whispered.
He shrugged. “That’s collecting a paranormal bounty.”
Play this angle. Do this. “I’m…I’m not a paranormal.”
And there it was—the briefest of hesitations. His grip on her eased a little bit. Not enough for her to escape, but just enough for her to know that the guy wasn’t super comfortable with the idea of abducting a human.
Oh, sure. He’d take a paranormal…Like we don’t matter? But when he thought he might be capturing a human, it became a whole new ball game.
“You…are.” But he didn’t sound convinced.
“I’m not. I’m not a shifter or a vampire.” She opened her mouth wide, showing her normal teeth. “I’m not a witch or a siren or anything like that.” Her heart raced in her chest. “Luke is trying to turn me into something I don’t want to be. Please, please help me. Let me walk away. Tell him that you never found me.”
He—he brought his face down even closer to her. And his mouth hovered right over her neck. What was he doing? Was he—
Smelling her?
“Honey.”
Amber froze.
“You smell like honey…and champagne.”
She licked her lips. “I, um, spilled a little champagne when I opened a bottle for a customer earlier.”
He gave a low growl. Was that rough sound supposed to be some kind of question or something? Or—
He put his mouth on her neck.
“Don’t! Don’t kill me!”
But it was too late. He’d pressed his lips to the curve of her throat. He was…kissing her neck. Lightly licking the skin. And as crazy as it was…heat began to unfurl deep within her.
“You taste like honey…and champagne.”
Her breath heaved out.
His head lifted. His eyes seemed a little brighter. “And my mouth won’t kill you, sweets. It’s my hands that do that. I could put my mouth over every single inch of you, and I guarantee, you’d only know pleasure. Not death.”
Oh, shit. His words should not be turning her on, but she’d always been wired a little bit wrong. So his words—they made her hot.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
But…since he was doing this whole sniffing and tasting routine, then maybe he believed her about being human. “I’m not a paranormal. You’ve never smelled anyone like me…you’ve never tasted anyone like me.” Because there was no other like she was. “Luke is tricking you. Using you. It’s what he does. You can’t trust the devil, everyone knows that.”
The Reaper had pulled back so that he could stare down at her. Jeez but the guy was big. Muscled. Those shoulders of his were so wide.
“Let me go.” She injected a plea in her voice. “Just tell Luke that you couldn’t find me.”
And he…
Shook his head.
Dammit.
“You’re coming with me. I’ll deliver you to him—that was my deal. I get what I want when Luke has you.”
Hell. Her lips parted. If there was no other option, then she’d scream—
“But if you’re telling the truth, if you are human, I won’t let him hurt you.”
She bit back her scream. The Reaper definitely has a weak spot for humans. So she’d play that card a little longer. Maybe if she acted as if she were cooperating, it would buy her a chance at freedom.
Maybe…
“We’re leaving the city tonight. I have a plane waiting for us. We’ll be back in Key West in time to see the sunrise.”
No way. She had no intention of going back there.
Then his right hand moved in a fast blur and Amber felt something snap along her right wrist. She felt a hot brand, could have sworn her skin actually sizzled for a moment, and she became aware of the cold weight of metal against her wrist.
Handcuffs. One cuff was around her wrist. The other was around his. Her right wrist. His left.
“You are a serious sonofabitch,” Amber muttered.
“The cuffs are paranormal proof,” he said, inclining his head. “Just in case you’re, you know, lying to me about not being a paranormal. Even shifters can’t break out of them and you don’t exactly strike me as having a shifter’s strength. If you did, I think you would have punched me back at the bar and not used your little taser.”
That little taser had knocked him on his ass.