Page 3 of Her Vampire Hero

The newcomer moved with inhuman grace, stepping between Jenny and the werewolf—Grayson, apparently. Despite being a good foot shorter than the furry behemoth, the handsome man exuded an aura of power that made even Grayson take a step back.

"This doesn't concern you, Rook," Grayson growled. "The human is mine."

The man—Rook—quirked an eyebrow. "Is she now? Funny, I don't recall hearing her agree to that arrangement. In fact, I distinctly remember her telling you, in no uncertain terms, to back off."

Jenny couldn't help but snort. "Yeah, what he said. Though I think my meaning was more along the lines of 'fuck off,' but potato, po-tah-to."

Rook's lips twitched in what might have been amusement. "Crude, but effective."

Grayson lunged forward with a snarl, but Rook was faster. In a blur of motion that Jenny's eyes could barely track, he had the werewolf pinned against the opposite lamppost, one hand around his throat. Rook bared his fangs—fangs? Okay. He was a vampire.

Jenny tried not to freak out.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Rook said, his voice deadly calm. "You know the rules, Grayson. No one is claimed without consent. The town may have brought her here, but the choice is hers to make."

“Or not make,” a mournful voice in the crowd said.

Jenny watched, wide-eyed, as Grayson struggled against Rook's grip. It was like watching a freight train try to push through a brick wall. Despite Rook's lean frame, he held the massive werewolf in place effortlessly.

After a tense moment, Grayson slumped in defeat. "Fine," he growled. "But this isn't over."

Rook released him, smoothing down his shirt as if manhandling werewolves was just another Tuesday for him. "I should hope not. Eternity would be dreadfully dull without your periodic temper tantrums to liven things up."

As Grayson slunk away, the crowd began to disperse, their excited murmurs fading into the night. Jenny sagged against the lamppost, the adrenaline rush leaving her feeling shaky and off-balance.

"So," she said, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile, "does this town have a tourism board? Because let me tell you, they are doing a piss-poor job of making newcomers feel welcome."

Rook turned to her, his intense gaze making her breath catch in her throat. Up close, he was even more devastatingly sexy, all sharp cheekbones and full lips that practically begged to be kissed. Not that Jenny was thinking about kissing him. Definitely not.

"My apologies for the rather dramatic welcome," he said, his voice a rich, velvety baritone that sent shivers down Jenny's spine. But that was probably just because she was drenched from being out in the chilly night air after the storm. "Wedon’t get a lot of newcomers here. Beastly Falls can be a bit overwhelming at first.”

Jenny barked out a laugh. "Overwhelming? Yeah, that's one word for it. I was thinking more along the lines of 'batshit insane,' but sure, let's go with overwhelming."

Rook's lips curved into a smile that was equal parts amused and sympathetic. "I imagine you have questions."

"Oh, you think?" Jenny rolled her eyes. "Let's start with the basics. Who are you, where the hell am I, and what was all that mate nonsense about?"

"Ah, where are my manners?" Rook gave a small bow that should have looked ridiculous but somehow came off as charming. "Rook Mullein, at your service. Owner of The Midnight Brew and reluctant voice of reason in this madhouse of a town."

He held out his hand, and Jenny hesitated for only a moment before shaking it. His skin was cool to the touch, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm.

"Jenny Cortado," she replied, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened at his touch. "Mechanic, custom car builder, and apparently the newest attraction in this supernatural freak show."

Rook's eyebrows rose. "A mechanic? How fascinating. I must admit, I know very little about automobiles. They're a bit after my time, I'm afraid."

Jenny frowned. "What, did you grow up Amish or something?"

A shadow passed over Rook's face, there and gone so quickly Jenny wasn't sure she'd seen it at all. "Something like that," he said softly. Then, as if shaking off a dark mood, he gestured down the street. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable? My tea shop is just around thecorner, and I imagine you could use a hot drink after your eventful evening."

Jenny hesitated. On the one hand, following a stranger to a second location went against every true crime podcast warning she'd ever heard. On the other hand, said stranger had just saved her from becoming werewolf chow, and she was cold, wet, and in desperate need of caffeine.

"Fine," she said, falling into step beside him. "But just so we're clear, if this turns out to be some elaborate setup for a cult initiation or a multi-level marketing scheme, I'm out."

Rook chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "I assure you, Ms. Cortado, my intentions are purely hospitable. Though I'm afraid we don't have any powder-based nutrition shakes or plastic containers to offer you."

As they walked, Jenny snuck glances at her mysterious savior. He moved with an effortless grace that made her feel clumsy in comparison, like a rusty old jalopy next to a sleek sports car. And speaking of cars...

"So, about that whole 'can't leave' thing," Jenny said, trying to keep her voice casual. "That's not actually a thing, right? Because I've got a pretty important interview in a few days, and I really can't afford to miss it."

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