Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2) - Page 58

And the Nightwalkers had a king.

She kept her gaze on the dirt. The cool air seemed stifled with the weight of Colt’s expectations. He was waiting for another answer.

His impatience beat against her tight shields.

With a sigh, she gave in. “Yeah. They were Nightwalkers.”

Colton snarled out a curse. Shea had the urge to echo it.

He leaned back on his heels, running his hand through his hair in open frustration before he turned, moving quickly so that he was behind Shea. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed his palm against the small of her back.

Shea could feel the heat through his thick suit jacket and, greedy for the soft touch, she didn’t pull away this time.

Taking her silence as acceptance, he stepped forward, his gentle push a wordless command.

She knew that she had two choices: go with Colton, or wait around to see if Hudson would be leaving that backroom anytime soon. She had to be honest with herself. Even if her brother did come out, that didn’t mean he’d be in any state to drive her home.

She should’ve asked for the keys. She didn’t. Without her own coat or the keys to Hud’s car, she had no choice—at least, that’s what she told herself.

She believed it, too, because she wanted to believe it.

And, well, because she wanted to go with Colton.

So she did.

He led her to a small, dark blue two-seater that she’d never seen before. Weird. He usually drove his truck, though she’d seen him out with his delivery van before.

This one was new.

“Is this your car?” she asked.

“It is tonight. Come on. Get inside. I’m taking you home.”

She did what he said, strapping her seat belt across her chest while she waited for him to ask her for directions to her place.

Turned out, she didn’t have to do that.

The ride was a silent one. Colton kept his mouth clamped shut, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he drove with both hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. His hard profile warned Shea against filling the awkward silence with small talk. She sighed, leaning against the door, trying to put as much space between them as the tiny car allowed.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled the coupe over to the curb. Shea did a double-take when she realized that he was parking in front of Moonshadow Apothecary. The lights were off, the sign flipped from OPEN to CLOSED.

How did he know to bring her here?

Colton never once asked where she lived. He never seemed bothered enough to ask her a single thing about herself. He must’ve brought her back to downtown Grayson because he only knew about her shop, not because he’d discovered that she lived above it.

And then he turned to her and nodded up at the highest window. “Invite me in, Shea.”

“My shop? Can’t you read? It says ‘closed’.”

“Not your shop. Your apartment. My wolf won’t be satisfied until it sees you safe inside your den.”

“How did you know I lived here?” she asked.

Colton popped open his door. As he climbed out of the car—so sure she’d give him the invitation he was after for some reason—he threw back at her, “Told you. I know enough.”

Shea blinked. What was that supposed to mean?

She lost any chance to find out. Before she could open her mouth to respond, Colton had already slammed his door shut behind her.

Tags: Jessica Lynch Claws Clause Fantasy
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