Page 2 of Sunshine and the Vamp

Dark tendrils of hair fell over his bright blue eyes as he shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Riiiight. And the gun is for what? Shits and giggles?”

His eyes flashed. For a second, I thought they had turned silver, but that must have just been a trick of the light. The bright blue orbs stared straight at me with a steadiness that made my stomach churn.

“No, but if I wanted you dead, I would have killed you the second you set foot in this alley.”

“What about Charlie?”

His lips pulled back in a snarl. “I will find him, torture him and then watch the life bleed from his eyes.”

Wow. Okay. That was kind of aggressive. And why was he telling me this if he wasn’t going to kill me? “I have a question—”

“Why am I telling you all this?” He cocked an eyebrow and damn if that didn’t make him look like he’d stepped off the cover of a magazine. “Because, whilst I might not be killing you, I cannot let you go.”

“Wh-what?” My heart lurched in my chest and the man’s eyes dropped to my throat.

“You’ve seen too much.”

His eyes stayed trained on my throat, and I suddenly felt self-conscious. Was there a mark there or something?

“Come here. Now.” His voice dropped to a throaty rumble that went straight to my cock. But I was going to ignore that because this wasnotthe time or place to be thinking about getting laid. Jeez, there must be something wrong with me if I was thinking about sex whilst staring death in the face. It had to be adrenaline. Right? Either that or I was discovering I had a kink I knew nothing about.

Again. Not the time or place.

I swallowed, my mouth drier than the dessert. “No. Please, just let me go.”

A frown dipped over his narrowed eyes. He stared at me for the longest time, his gaze dark and assessing. And God, it was quiet. And I was nervous. And shit, I could feel the word vomit about to explode from my mouth.

“Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die. I was just trying to help, and I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just pretend I didn’t see anything. I mean, who am I going to tell? There’s only old Mrs Mickles who lives next door, and she never leaves the house and—”

A hand slammed over my face, cutting off the tirade of shit spewing from my mouth.

The mystery murder man grunted. “You talk too much.”

Only when I was nervous.

Or about to die, apparently.

I took a deep breath through my nose, trying my best to calm my beating heart. Not that it did me any good. I’m sure the guy could feel it vibrating through my chest where he was pressing me against the wall. Oh God, I think I stepped in something disgusting.

I whimpered against his hand.

“I know,” he said calmly. “This won’t hurt.”

He’d lied to me. I was going to die.

I kicked my feet out, but he deflected the blows and pressed his knees into my legs and locked his hips against mine. I couldn’t do anything but struggle. My breath came fast and shallow, my skin turned clammy. I clawed at the hand over my mouth, but he was surprisingly strong.

The pretty psycho brushed a curl off my forehead, the soft gesture at odds with the manhandling the rest of his body was doing. “It will all be over soon.”

Another whimper escaped.

“Hush now,” he soothed, his eyes impossibly bright. Then he grinned like a wolf, all teeth and voracious.

This was it.

He lunged towards me and a sharp pain lanced through the side of my neck.

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