Page 53 of Hunt Me Down

Talk about piss-ass-poor timing.

“Jude—what are you doing?”

Pretty much just what it looked like. Pinning prey.

“Help!” Mickey the idiot shouted. “This freak’s trying to kill me!”

Jude twisted his claws, because he could.

The hyena’s words choked off.

High heels slapped on the wooden floor. “You’re in a public bar, you can’t just?—”

Sighing, he glanced back at Erin. Flushed face. Kiss-me red lips, and an are-you-crazy expression in her eyes. “Relax. The woman behind the bar’s a witch, the half-asleep asshole in the corner’s a charmer, and this jerkoff is a?—”

“Shifter.” A whisper from her sexy lips. Her nostrils flared, just a bit.

Of course she’d know. Like to like.

Mickey whimpered and tried to appear pitiful. Jude had to give the guy credit—helookedpitiful. But he always did.

“You can’t do this.” Erin’s voice was still hushed. Maybe she wasn’t buying the whole the-bartender-is-a-witch story. “No matter what heis,you can’t just?—”

A growl built in his throat. The rich scent of Mickey’s blood teased him. Maybe it was time Erin figured out just who—what—she was dealing with.

And sleeping with at night.

“Not a cop, sweetheart. Their rules don’t apply to me.” And what was she doing in the bar, anyway? Delaney’s wasn’t exactly well advertised in this city. More of a paranormals-only club.

Catalina’s magic kept the humans out. They didn’t know why, but they just always walked right past the faded blue building with the white French doors on Louis Street.

“Lady!” Mickey’s squeak. “You gotta help me! This freak is crazy. You need?—”

He heard the inhalation of her breath. “Mickey McQueen.”

The hyena blinked.

“You’re wanted for three charges of assault and battery, McQueen.”

Yeah, and Jude would be collecting that bounty soon enough. “I want the name, Mickey,” Jude snapped, barreling right over Erin’s words. She wasn’t about to haul his prey away, not yet.

Mickey shook his head, a frantic move. “L-lady?—”

“Have it your way.” The burn of his lengthening canines filled Jude’s mouth. His gaze narrowed on the hyena’s throat, on the pulse that thudded faster, faster. Jude lowered his head, teeth bared, almost tasting?—

“No new shifters—none!” Mickey’s scream. Frantic. Mickey liked giving pain, but he wasn’t so much for taking it.

Jude stilled. The little prick had to be telling the truth. Mickey had never been good at playing chicken.

No new shifters.But one new shifter was right beside him. How come Mickey didn’t realize that?

Erin grabbed Jude’s shoulder, jerked him back, and sent him hurling across the room.

Jude fell into a table. The wood gave way, smashing beneath him and sending his ass right to the floor. Hard.

“You’ll pay for that one, too,” Catalina said. The witch was just stating a fact. She didn’t sound too interested in the chaos.

Then, silence.

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