Yes, he’d been a monster, driven to madness and revenge after
 
 Stephanie’s death. Billy had kidnapped, murdered, and conspired with a
 
 blood sorcerer. He had to be stopped, but it hadn’t been her right to put him
 
 down.
 
 That had been my duty. But Savannah didn’t understand a thing about us.
 
 Or care to.
 
 A creeping frost wound around my heart as Savannah strode toward me
 
 with her gym bag in hand and a fire burning in her eyes. Sam mouthed,
 
 Watch out.
 
 The red-haired vixen homed in on me like a heat-seeking missile,
 
 stopping inches from my chest. “What the hell are you doing here, Laurent? I
 
 thought we had to stay away from each other.”
 
 Her eyes were murderous, unsheathed daggers.
 
 I didn’t bother moving a muscle in response, just leaned back against my
 
 truck with my arms crossed. “I have information. Are you going to listen, or
 
 are you going to try to stab me?”
 
 She dropped her bag onto the pavement. “I don’t have a knife, so you
 
 might as well start talking.”
 
 Her body vibrated with repressed fury, and her magical signature was on
 
 full display—the scent of tangerines and the feel of cool water flowing over
 
 my skin. It was like fucking nectar, driving me wild. I could smell her anger
 
 and resentment, and beneath it all, an undeniable undercurrent of desire.
 
 I’d forgotten what it was like to be around her. A continuous assault on
 
 my senses. Contradictions piled upon contradictions. She was a beautiful
 
 nightmare.
 
 My eyes dropped to her mouth. Her lips were full and soft, though the
 
 bottom one was cut and swollen. A stain of blood brightened the surface, and
 
 I could almost taste it. Blood that was special, that the sorcerer had wanted.
 
 My muscles tensed with desire and protectiveness. “You’re hurt. You
 
 ladies must play rough.”