The sound of the slap cracked through the tense air of the alley like a gunshot.

Linsy’s hand connected with Michael’s cheek with a force that snapped his head to the side. A vivid, hand-shaped bloom of red immediately stained his pale, perfect skin.

He slowly turned his face back to her. He hadn’t flinched, hadn’t tried to block it. He just absorbed the blow, his expression shifting from fury to something colder, more terrifyingly still. His eyes, when they locked onto hers, were the ...