Someone passed beyond the door and then there was silence. It stretched long and thin until she wanted to scream. Rowan’s heart was nearly beating out of her chest but her eyes never strayed from the door.
She called to the shadows, coaxing them so that they slithered along her flesh and covered her body with their darkness. A small thrill shot through her. She’d denied her gifts for so long she’d forgotten how good it felt to use them.
Suddenly the door swung open. Something big stood there, just beyond her line of vision. She couldn’t see it but she sure as hell sensed it. She grimaced, pissed at herself for letting her powers get so rusty.
She heard a scuff, like a boot scraping along the floor, and held her breath in anticipation. Who would have predicted ten hours ago she’d be hiding in her nana’s room, gripping an iron poker from the fireplace, waiting to attack?
Back in the day, before she’d reinvented herself, it had been the norm and something she’d taken great pains to distance herself from. Yet it seemed as if the ghosts of her past had found her.
A tall shape came into view. Impressively huge.
Rephrase: The ghosts of her past were about to kick her ass but good.
The door creaked as it slowly slid all the way open. She heard her breaths falling lightly as she struggled to keep it together and forced them to quiet. She needed to focus.
Rowan’s eyes widened as the intruder strode into the room and cast a long shadow along the threadbare carpet. It was a very large, very male form.
Denim and leather adorned his powerful frame, emphasizing long limbs and wide
shoulders. He moved with the grace of an animal—a predator—and she held her breath as his gaze swung toward her.
Was she safe? Could he see her?
His face was in shadow but the square jaw was visible. He reeked of power; even in her weakened state she was able to sense the enormity of it, and a sliver of fear bled through her determination.
Something awful had happened in her nana’s home. Had this man been involved? If so, what did he want?
He took a step forward, moving into the light, and her mouth went dry. His eyes were intense, an unusual shade of gold that was piercing. A day’s worth of beard shadowed his chin, covering it in scruff that was model-perfect. Dirty blond hair as thick as sable framed a face that was, without a doubt, the most devastatingly handsome one she’d ever seen. Hollywood had nothing on this guy.
Rowan knew she couldn’t take him. There was no way in hell. The man was well over six feet in height and (a) she’d just tossed her heels, and at five-foot-six she didn’t even reach his chin, and (b) the power that clung to him was incredibly strong. It cast a fractured light around his frame, one bled through with gold and black.
She’d never seen anything like it.
The stereo erupted once more and Patsy’s mournful soprano sliced through the quiet. Rowan’s heart took off, banging out of control and she tried to swallow her fear as the stranger turned fully in her direction.
For one sweet second she thought she heard her nana’s voice whisper to her. Always keep them off-kilter. Do the unexpected.
It pushed her into action.
Rowan fell from shadow and stepped forward. “Who the hell are you and where is my grandmother?”
Surprise flickered across his face though it quickly disappeared. She swallowed tightly as the stranger’s eyes narrowed. He raised his hand, and her fingers clutched the iron poker so tightly, they cramped.
She flinched as he flicked his wrist—it was a subtle motion that silenced the music.
He arched a brow. “Granddaughter?”
His eyes glittered, a strange shimmer deep within their depths. His voice was low and she detected a slight accent when he spoke. She couldn’t place it.
“I won’t ask again.” Rowan straightened, glad her voice was firm, no matter that her insides were mush. “Who are you and why is there blood in the kitchen?” A small tremor caressed the end of her sentence but it couldn’t be helped.
She was freaking out, scared as hell, and there was a mountain of muscle between herself and freedom.
The stranger cursed, words she didn’t understand, but they were definitely curse words. His tone and scowl told her so. “No one mentioned a granddaughter.” He cocked his head to the side and frowned. “We’ve got company.”
He crossed to the window and yanked the drapes into place in one quick motion. At the same time the glow from the nightlight was extinguished.
Rowan didn’t know what to think but she was starting to get pissed off.