Page 56 of When the Woods Go Silent

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TORRENCE

Dusk has just fallen when I’m locking up the restaurant.

We’ll openGoblin Marketagain tomorrow, but tonight I have an uncommon block of free time. Julianna isn’t due back for a few days, and I’ve just visited the blood mines. My servers are behaving after the recent accident with the two humans, and thank fuck I don’t have any bodies to bury tonight.

I’ve barely crossed the street when my phone dings with a text.

Watch where you’re going.

It’s from Ruby, and my head swivels up and around as I sling my satchel over one shoulder. I chuckle when I catch her scent on the wind, then glimpse movement between the trees. I was going to visit Arlo and the others at the lodge, bringing some new recipe samples for the humans there to try, but this sounds like a much better time.

“Is my killer out to play?” I call softly into the gathering night.

A giggle echoes to my left, and I prowl into the woods, hunting my pretty little human. It isn’t hard, of course. Not with my mix of gobbelin and fae senses. But I let her hide while I toy with her, getting close enough to excite her before changing directions at the last second. I can almost taste her risingadrenaline, heady and delectable, as she plays with the fear of being caught.

Cat and mouse, we chase each other slowly into the deepest part of the woods, very near where we met around the fairy ring. Her musky scent of vanilla and violets perfumes the night air, and I feel my teeth sharpening against my bottom lip.

If she only knew what was hunting her in the woods, she would be screaming instead of smiling.

Humans love tales of vampires who kill and drink blood to survive, but really, most of those legends and stories should be rewritten as gobbelins. Vampires evolved from us, and although they drink blood for strength, they don’tneedit like we do.

They don’t crave flesh like we do, either. Only my fae blood keeps me from wanting to feed like a gobbelin.

“There you are,” a sweet voice says, barely two feet behind me. I whirl, grinning down at the dark-haired temptation before me. “I didn’t think it would be so easy to find you.”

“Maybe I wanted to be found,” I tease her, my eyes sliding down the milky pale of her throat. My mouth waters as I remember how delicious her blood tasted on the rooftop. I resisted draining her dry while she was under my spell, but only because I want so much fucking more from her.

“Well, it’s a good thing I did find you. There’s someone out here kidnapping damsels, and I think you might be in danger.”

A laugh slips past my lips before I can stop it. “Me? And why not you? You’re barely a snack for the big bad wolf.”

“No, I’m a killer, remember? Send the wolves after me, and I’ll come home leading the pack.”

I can’t resist reaching for her and drawing her close. She has no idea how vulnerable she really is, and there’s something endearing about the careless bravado. She’s like a kitten, showing her tiny claws to a panther.

Ruby melts into me, tilting her lips up for a kiss. I give in to that, too, even though it just makes me more desperate to taste her. I know I’m playing a dangerous game, drinking from a local, but the idea that this is my last summer here has me feeling reckless.

Still, I force myself to be slow and intentional, nibbling with my lips instead of biting, sucking her skin instead of drinking her down. I want to keep her, not kill her. The heat between us is foreign to my ice magic, and I’m dizzy with the feel of her soft skin and the taste of her on my tongue.

If I gobble her up too fast, there will be nothing left to savor.

“By the Goddess, you’re a good kisser,” Ruby murmurs, finally breaking away and breathing a bit heavier. I hide my surprise at the word - humans tend to worship a male god, jealous and demanding. There’s no way she actually knows about Haret’s goddesses.

“What’s in your pack? I’ll show mine if you show yours,” I offer, guessing by the heft of her pack that there’s a blanket inside.

“I came prepared for stargazing,” she admits, unzipping a few inches to show a worn quilt.

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