Page 17 of The Incubus and the Bodyguard

She didn’t even look at him. “No, thank you.”

The drunk frowned slightly at her flat tone.

“Don’t be like that. I’m a nice guy,” he hiccuped.

“Nice guys generally take no for an answer the first time.”

Her voice was low and smooth, touched with an accent Vlad couldn’t quite place.

French, maybe?

The drunk’s face hardened. He grabbed her arm. “Listen here, you stuck-up bi?—”

What happened next was too fast for the human eye to follow.

One moment the guy was reaching for her, the next he was face down on the bar with his arm twisted behind his back. His friends gasped.

“Here’s the thing about being nice,” the blonde said, maintaining her deadpan tone and expression. “It’s a choice. Just like being a moron with a death wish is also a choice.” She applied slightly more pressure. The drunk whimpered. “Which choice are you going to make?”

“The nice one!” the drunk squeaked. “Definitely the nice one!”

“Glad we had this chat.” She released him. “Now, please leave.”

The drunk scuttled away, his friends quickly following.

“Damn,” Cortes muttered. “She’s good.”

Vlad had to agree. The blonde’s movements had been fluid and precise.

Almost too precise for a civilian.

Tarang’s attention was riveted by the woman. Vlad caught an echo of his familiar’s curiosity.

She returned to her drink as if nothing had happened. The bartender approached cautiously.

“Everything okay, miss?”

“Peachy.” She paused. “Though you might want to check your door policy. That guy’s cologne alone should be grounds for refusal.”

The bartender smiled. “Can I get you another drink? On the house.”

She arched a delicate eyebrow. “I never say no to free whiskey.”

Vlad couldn’t drag his eyes away. Something about her drew him like a moth to a flame. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this much genuine interest in someone.

Not since Mae?—

He shut that thought down hard.

“Go talk to her,” Cortes said.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly myself right now,” Vlad muttered.

It wasn’t just his missing powers. His confidence had taken a serious hit following the incident at theOro Divino.

Cortes rolled his eyes. “Your charm isn’t all demon magic. Some of it is actually you.”

“My Enrique speaks the truth,” Popo chimed in. “Besides, your pheromone levels indicate you’re in optimal condition for mat—mmph!”

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