Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

They still had Hudson with them. She couldn’t let Colton get involved and, well, he looked like he was about to do just that.

She scurried forward, meeting him halfway, hoping that she’d put enough space between them and the blood-red door.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his gruff voice easy to pick up over the loud music.

Normally, Shea would’ve told him where he could shove his nasty tone and his snarled demands. She was a grown woman. She didn’t have to explain her actions to anyone, least of all the gorgeous shifter who was still waiting for her to break their bond.

Something warned her about making a scene in the middle of the club, though. She was also still shaky from her healing—and then there was the whole watching her brother almost die at the hand of her betrothed thing.

This was bad.

Very, very bad.

She struggled to pull an unconcerned expression. A casual shrug. A few shallow breaths to slow down the drumbeat of her anxious heart.

“I’m just having fun,” she said quickly before turning it around on Colton. “What are you doing here? I wouldn’t have thought a Nightwalker club would be your scene.”

“It’s not.” His words were flat. Tilting his head, Colton’s shades slid down his nose, revealing his pale blue eyes. “And it’s not yours, either, Shea. You’re lying.”

“What?” she squeaked. “Me? I’m not—”

His nostrils flared. “Spoiled meat and curdled milk. You smell like vampires and lies. You questioning my nose?”

Uh-oh.

“Of course I smell like vampires. Look around you, Colton. There are vamps and humans everywhere. Maybe that’s what you’re picking up on.”

“You’re right. Come on.”

Then, before she could stop him, Colton took Shea by the elbow, leading her out of the club thumping with noise, teeming with bodies.

She… she let him.

It was probably a mistake. After what had just passed between her and the Nightwalker king, she could only guess that one of his lackeys was running back to tell him that Shea was rushing out of the club with a shifter.

If she was lucky, he’d dismiss it as if she didn’t have a choice.

She wasn’t so sure she did.

Shea wiped her hand on her ass as she tried to match his long stride. Her shields were shaky from the amount of healing energy she used, plus the shock of the blood exchange, and she hurriedly tried to reinforce them as Colton led her out into the cool night air. She might not be able to do anything about Rafe and Julian’s scents on her until she had a shower, but if she had to lie again, at least the deception wouldn’t change her scent.

She had another idea. Rather than wait for Colton to start demanding things from her, she pointedly changed the subject.

“Where did your friend go?”

“Who?”

“Blonde hair. Hazel eyes. Human?”

“You saw me with him? That’s Wright.” Flicking a curious look her way, Colton shrugged. “He’s a cop. He’ll be fine.”

Shea’s eyes widened. “You brought a cop to a Para club? Are you serious?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, once they had stepped away from the club’s entrance, Colton let go of her elbow. Leaning in, he brushed his nose against her neck as he snuffled. A soft exhale, followed by a grunt. “The vampire stink clings to you. It’s not as strong as it was before, but it’s still there.”

Shea shivered. She’d like to think it had everything to do with how the temperature had dipped since she’d been inside.

Yeah, right.