Page 9 of The Pretty Savage

What happened to Dain?

None of us knew how he died or when the funeral was, but I still remembered the smug look on Heinrich's face when that information reached us. I was too devastated over Tyler to notice the shift in the air and the additional missions we were suddenly being sent on, but it was all related, and I wondered if Heinrich had something to do with that.

The hair at the nape of my neck stood up, my little spidey senses coming alive when I realized I was being watched. It was one of the first lessons I learned—always be aware of your surroundings—and while I was keeping an eye on the people that passed by me, I failed to notice him.

He must have entered at the last station, moving with the rest of the crowd entering the wagon I was in, and I reprimanded myself for failing to notice a stranger sitting on the left-hand side of me, a couple of rows over. Dark, almost black hair was shaved on the sides, while the top stayed longer, the same shade as the arched eyebrows that did nothing to minimize the harsh lines of his face. I knew girls who would kill for those high cheekbones and plump lips that should've looked too big on his face, but they somehow fit. My eyes landed on his—the dark promises living inside of them knocking the breath out of my lungs, causing a visceral reaction in my body. I straightened up, rubbing the spot at my sternum, blaming the sandwich I ate for the burning in my gut when he tilted his head, those lips pulling into a tiny smirk, while he raked those dark, almost obsidian eyes over my body as if he had any right to do so.

My cheeks flushed and the black sweater I wore suddenly felt too tight on my skin.

Now I knew what it felt like when poison slowly crept into your system, because every slow drag of those eyes, every lick of his tongue over his lips, felt like a new shot of poison, rendering me speechless. And I was rarely a speechless person, especially when it came to the male population. I couldn't care less who they were or what they looked like, they had one purpose and one purpose only—they were my very own little entertainment.

But not this guy. Oh no, this one threw me off-balance.

And I hated being unbalanced.

It only brought in trouble, and the loss of focus, which I couldn't afford. Especially not now.

But the bastard simply relaxed, observing me openly, drinking me in with hunger in his eyes, and I forgot for a minute where I was and what I was supposed to be doing.

His thumb dragged over his lower lip, the tattoos on his fingers almost looking alive underneath the dim light of the train, and I allowed myself a moment to imagine what it would be like if those fingers trailed over my body, digging into my hips while he slid his cock through my channel, driving me insane.

"Fuck," I hissed as the manila folder fell onto my lap, knocked off of the small table in front of me, and within seconds the hold he had on me was gone.

Get a fucking grip, Vega. You have a job to do.

I shook my head, trying to remove the remnants of my lust-induced daydream from my mind, but there was no use. My eyes involuntarily landed on him again, and I noticed that he wasn't smiling anymore. Oh no.

That hunger I noticed before was in full force now, pulling me into its orbit like a predator would do to its prey, and I was anything but a prey.

My eyes narrowed at the mysterious guy, my fingers pushing my dark hair with a white lock of hair behind my ear, telling him everything I thought with that one look, but he didn't budge. If anything, he seemed to straighten even more, and I knew he was tall even without him having to stand up. Those broad shoulders couldn't belong to someone tiny, and I almost drooled at the mere thought of dragging my nails over the muscles in his arms that were straining against the black shirt he had on.

I had seen hot men before. I was surrounded by them on a daily basis, but I’d never, and I mean ever, had such a visceral reaction to someone just by looking at them. What was it that Alena said one time? Lust at first sight?

That must have been it. That and the fact that I hadn’t had a chance to let off some steam in months now, ever since I came back from Japan, and it was obviously messing with my head.

I loved sex. It was one transaction I could do without having to have a relationship with someone, because all of us in this world knew that being with someone meant signing their death certificate, and I wasn't about to tie myself to someone that wouldn't be able to defend himself if my enemies came knocking at our door.

And it wasn't as if I could explain why I had to be gone for months on end and why my job required me to sometimes disappear in the middle of the night, only to come back covered in blood that wasn't mine. I mean, it wasn't as if we had some application called Killers R Us, where we could find like-minded people from the same line of work, and even if we did, who was to say they weren't working for one of the other organizations that was only looking for an in with The Schatten?

That thought sobered me up enough to move my eyes away from him, no matter how hard it was, and to look through the window, focusing on the forest we were going through. My skin still buzzed, my little monster ready to be unleashed, but not for the reasons it usually wanted to come out.

No, it wanted to play with the dark stranger in that seat on the left-hand side of me. It wanted to lick the poison off his lips, and I had to physically restrain myself from looking again at him.

My eyes closed just as the voice over the intercom announced in German that our next stop would be Wolfhöle, and I had never been more grateful for that little reprieve. I still had at least five more minutes before I would have to get up, but my suitcase was right next to me, and I slowly pushed the manila file with the information on the Zylla family into my backpack, keeping my eyes on it rather than on the man that had obviously ruffled my feathers.

I just hoped I wouldn't have to see him again.

I looked down at the small suitcase I had with me, hoping it would be enough clothes until my other things arrived. Alena had already shipped the boxes with everything I needed, but considering that the Academy might as well have been in Narnia, I didn't think it would arrive that fast. What I had here was enough for at least a week, but I had no idea what my schedule would look like or what classes I would need to take.

I didn't have time to read more about the Academy and the plan and program for the students, but I hoped the combat gear I brought would be enough.

"Der nächste Halt," the robotic voice over the intercom announced again. "Wolfhöle."

I looked up just as the stranger stood up, making my mouth dry when I noticed the strong, muscular thighs clad in black military-style pants, and the boots that matched the rest of the outfit. He saw me staring at him, smirking the entire time as he took his backpack and started walking toward me.

I pushed myself back, almost disappearing into the seat, when he leaned down, close enough to feel his minty breath on my cheek, and in a voice I would never forget, whispered, "You look good enough to eat, kitten." He pulled back, satisfied with the reaction he brought out of me, and just as he had appeared, he disappeared from my sight, walking toward the other end of the train, right where one of the doors were.

My heart hammered in my chest, slamming against my rib cage, as if it was trying to reach him. I pressed my hands to my flaming cheeks, fucking hating the effect he had on me, and I could only hope this wasn't something that would happen again. It never did before, so why the fuck did it have to happen now?

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