ARDEN

She’s silent for a while, still hiding out behind the door. I don't have to turn to know that she's stepping back into the bathroom, that she's taking something out of her jeans.

Then she steps back out and says, “Don't…Don't turn around.”

I hold back a chuckle. She really is a feisty one. A bit bold, too. It makes me wonder if she knows who I am. Who any of us are.

She moves across the room, pauses for a bit, and I can hear the towel scraping against her skin.

That's when I turn.

She's pretty, that's for sure. She's wrapped herself properly in the huge towel now, but it doesn't make her any less attractive. Her skin is smooth and pale under droplets of water, and her eyelids are narrow over her eyes as she looks at me. She has one hand behind her back, the other is placed across her chest. Her hair, still wet and dark red, is plastered to her neck. My gaze lingers on her pulse for a bit, before it drops to the tattoo on her collarbone. It slithers down her left arm, curling in a spiral, all the way to her wrist.

The symbols interest me, but I'll tend to those at some other time. For now, I have to deal with the problem of her existence.

She takes a step back as I approach her. Her lips are a bit parted as she looks up at me, her eyes now wide and worshipping. I'm used to looks like these; I get them from ladies a lot, and from men too. But something about the way her long lashes flicker at me makes me want to yank her hair back and press my lips to hers.

Instead, I stop a couple of feet away from her and clasp my hands behind my back again.

“I apologize for the intrusion. I didn't mean to startle you.”

She blinks at me, opens her mouth again and closes it. I can hear her fingers tighten on the thing she's wielding behind her and I can't help but smile.

“The taser won't do you much good, especially since I have no intent of harming you,” I tell her.

“Right.” Her voice shakes slightly, but her jaw clenches at the same time. “So you're him, then.”

I lift a brow. “Him?”

“You're like, the boss, right?”

“Oh.” I snort. “Well, you could say that.”

She frowns at me, like she's just noticed something strange and new. Probably my accent. Or my manner of speech.

I wave a hand towards the bed. “Sit.”

She folds her hand almost immediately, an instinctive action. She's a stubborn one. And I don't tolerate stubborn humans.

I step forward, locking my eyes with hers and I repeat, “Sit.”

She drops down on the bed the next second, and the taser slips out of her grip. The surprise that shows in her eyes is satisfying. She doesn't know much about us, then. Good.

I cover the space between us, pausing only to sit down next to her on the bed. Her scent is flowery, almost intoxicating, but I try not to think about it. I'm the one in control. She's the one on trial, though she doesn't realize it yet.

She does feel my presence, that I can guarantee. It's in her eyes, her cheeks, the way her thighs clench when I stare at her.

“Why were you out in that alley last night?”

The question seems to take her by surprise. She glances at me, brows slightly raised.

“I was going to take a picture.”

It's my turn to lift my brows. “Out late, at night? That sounds a bit dangerous for a lady your age, no?”

She frowns slightly. “I'm not a kid.”

“No, of course not. You are just ignorant. Very ignorant.”

That has to be it. Everyone, or almost everyone, knows the dark belongs to us. Not to the mafia, not to the other members of the underworld, to us. She has got to know that.

Or she doesn't. And that's why she was stupid enough to draw my brothers’ attention.

“Please…” She whispers, drawing my attention again. “Let me go.”

“I'm afraid that's not possible.”

“Why can't you? I didn't fucking do anything wrong!”

The anger is back, bubbling ferociously below those dark green eyes. It's beautiful to watch, almost enchanting.

But she's just a human, I remind myself.

“You were at the wrong place at the wrong time,” I reply coolly. “That makes you a liability I need to correct.”

She freezes, staring at me in disbelief. “A liability? Your guys kidnapped me right off the street and I'm a liability?!”

“What were you taking photos for?” I interrupt.

She blinks at me and for a moment, it seems like she won't reply.

Then she says, “I just wanted to get new material. I heard people at the bar talking about some symbols, about how strange they were. They sounded…Look, I just wanted to snap something that would get me more money. That's not a crime, is it?”

“Did you see anybody at the site?”

She shifts her glance to the floor. Probably thinking about the man she had seen my brothers kill.

“Look at me.”

She turns immediately, at the sound of my voice. Anger shows briefly in her eyes, anger at the way her body betrayed her, no doubt. She better get used to it. Everyone does what I want, one way or the other.

I repeat my question, “Did you see anybody, other than my brothers and the man they killed?”

“No.” She blinks, breaking the trance, and she looks away.

“Mm.” Now that's a problem. The fact that she didn't see anyone AND the fact that she broke my hypnosis. I can see why Marcus seems obsessed with her. She's a bit different from others, but she's still a human. That's the bottom line.

At the moment, though, I have to consider the possibility that she could be working with the Hunters, or she could be a spy. A liability.

“So what now?” She asks, interrupting my thoughts. “Is this where you kill me?”

“What?”

“That's what they were talking about before they kidnapped me. I'm guessing you're gonna kill me because I saw them murder an innocent man, right?”

I can't help but smile again. She's a brave one, or she's really good at faking it. And pretty too, when that anger flashes in her eyes. It's been years since I've seen one like her. They usually taste sweeter.

“He wasn't an innocent man.” I flick a speck of dust from my trousers. "But no, we aren't killing you."

“Okay, so why am I still here?”

“Like I said, you're a liability I have to-”

“No.” Her chest heaves and falls with anger now, the top of her breasts pushing through the towel. “No, I'm a human, a living being with rights and a life. You can't just pluck me out of it like I don't exist.”

I lean in slightly, drawing closer to her until her scent is all I can smell and her eyes are all I can see.

“Apparently,” I whisper, “I can, Rylie Andrews.”

She doesn't move, but her lips open slightly again, and I am possessed once more with the insane urge to know what she tastes like. Maybe take a bite or two.

Control. Remain in control.

She seems to be regaining control herself, tightening her jaw again and staring back at me without blinking.

“How do you know my name?” she asks slowly.

I shrug. “Well, we’re obliged to know about who we keep under our roof, wouldn’t we?”

“People will notice I'm missing,” she says. “And they'll report it to the cops.”

Now, I can't hold back the amusement. I throw my head back and I laugh.

“Oh, I'm sure they will,” I reply.

She releases a breath, as I get to my feet. I wonder how long she's held that in.

“So, that's it, then. I'm your prisoner now.”

I pause by the door, giving her a glance over my shoulder. Her thighs are still pressed together, suppressing the heat that I'm sure is spreading through her stomach. She'll be a good fighter. A problem, maybe, but I'll have fun solving her.

“Breakfast will be ready in a bit. You should come join us.”

I drop my gaze to the tattoo on her pale, supple skin once more. Then I exit the room, leaving the door slightly open behind me.