tomorrow.”
He grabbed her hand and started hauling her down the sidewalk at a speed that forced her almost to trot to keep up. “I’ll be lucky if I can wait until we reach your bed,” he growled.
“Oh. Then I guess you will be staying for coffee.”
He shot her a glance that all but set her eyebrows on fire.
“I’ll be staying for you.”
Luc decided to take the strangled sound Corinne uttered at his blunt pronouncement as a good sign. Considering the sight that greeted him farther down the block, he could use all the good news he could get.
When the barricades went up, a crowd gathered. That was the way it worked in New York. People wanted to know what was happening. At the moment, the happenings had to do with at least forty protesters gathered in front of a beleaguered coffee shop and angry over the plight of laborers on plantations in Africa and South America. Judging by the broken glass and ceramic littering the pavement, the angry voices, and the news cameras strategically positioned on the scene, Luc could assume that nonviolent protest had gone the way of the dodo sometime in the last few hours. What irked him at the moment, though, was that all these people currently blocked his way between here and Corrine D’Alessandro’s bed.
This had to change. Immediately.
Grasping her much smaller hand firmly in his, Luc set his jaw, firmed his shoulders, and prepared to bulldoze his way through the crowd of protestors, police, coffee shop workers, and onlookers. If he had to knock people over, so be it. His heartmate had just not-so-subtly invited him to share her bed. He’d have knocked over Mab herself if she stood in his way.
Luc was so focused on dodging and weaving that he didn’t even see the blow coming. Later he would curse himself, kick himself, and call himself ten kinds of fool, but he simply hadn’t been paying enough attention. He’d been thinking with his dick, and so he’d never noticed when a form shifted through the crush of bodies just behind him on his left and raised a short length of metal pipe in the direction of his head.
Thankfully, his instincts seemed to operate well enough even beneath the haze of lust that had clouded his other senses. He caught the swing of movement and turned just enough that the blow meant for his head landed on the meat of his shoulder instead.
Adrenaline kicked in before he even had time to think about what had happened. He shoved Corinne away, pinning her between him and the wall of the nearby building and keeping himself between her and the threat. His left hand shot out and grabbed for the man’s arm, the one with the weapon in it, feeling skin and leather before the assailant twisted away and broke free. Even as he raised his right hand to the hilt of his sword, he knew it was too late. Whoever had come at him had already melted back into the crowd.
Luc scanned the faces nearby and saw nothing. Damn it.
“Hey!”
He heard Corinne shout even as the pain of the injury began to resonate, making his breath hiss in between his teeth. His attacker had been strong, very strong; and for the blow to have nearly staggered him, the choice of weapon must have been deliberate. Only a blow from cold iron could possibly pack that kind of wallop.
“Jesus Christ, that guy attacked you! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said, lowering his hand from his sword and pressing it hard into the small of Corinne’s back. “But we need to get out of here fast.”
If he’d been rude before as he’d pushed his way through the milling crowd, now he was ruthless, using a combination of brute strength and magic to move every obstacle from their way. His pace forced Corinne to jog to keep up with him, but he couldn’t worry about that now. The goal was to get her off the street and into the safety of her apartment before their mysterious attacker could double back and try his luck a second time.
“Luc, what the hell is going on?” she demanded as
He grabbed her hand and started hauling her down the sidewalk at a speed that forced her almost to trot to keep up. “I’ll be lucky if I can wait until we reach your bed,” he growled.
“Oh. Then I guess you will be staying for coffee.”
He shot her a glance that all but set her eyebrows on fire.
“I’ll be staying for you.”
Luc decided to take the strangled sound Corinne uttered at his blunt pronouncement as a good sign. Considering the sight that greeted him farther down the block, he could use all the good news he could get.
When the barricades went up, a crowd gathered. That was the way it worked in New York. People wanted to know what was happening. At the moment, the happenings had to do with at least forty protesters gathered in front of a beleaguered coffee shop and angry over the plight of laborers on plantations in Africa and South America. Judging by the broken glass and ceramic littering the pavement, the angry voices, and the news cameras strategically positioned on the scene, Luc could assume that nonviolent protest had gone the way of the dodo sometime in the last few hours. What irked him at the moment, though, was that all these people currently blocked his way between here and Corrine D’Alessandro’s bed.
This had to change. Immediately.
Grasping her much smaller hand firmly in his, Luc set his jaw, firmed his shoulders, and prepared to bulldoze his way through the crowd of protestors, police, coffee shop workers, and onlookers. If he had to knock people over, so be it. His heartmate had just not-so-subtly invited him to share her bed. He’d have knocked over Mab herself if she stood in his way.
Luc was so focused on dodging and weaving that he didn’t even see the blow coming. Later he would curse himself, kick himself, and call himself ten kinds of fool, but he simply hadn’t been paying enough attention. He’d been thinking with his dick, and so he’d never noticed when a form shifted through the crush of bodies just behind him on his left and raised a short length of metal pipe in the direction of his head.
Thankfully, his instincts seemed to operate well enough even beneath the haze of lust that had clouded his other senses. He caught the swing of movement and turned just enough that the blow meant for his head landed on the meat of his shoulder instead.
Adrenaline kicked in before he even had time to think about what had happened. He shoved Corinne away, pinning her between him and the wall of the nearby building and keeping himself between her and the threat. His left hand shot out and grabbed for the man’s arm, the one with the weapon in it, feeling skin and leather before the assailant twisted away and broke free. Even as he raised his right hand to the hilt of his sword, he knew it was too late. Whoever had come at him had already melted back into the crowd.
Luc scanned the faces nearby and saw nothing. Damn it.
“Hey!”
He heard Corinne shout even as the pain of the injury began to resonate, making his breath hiss in between his teeth. His attacker had been strong, very strong; and for the blow to have nearly staggered him, the choice of weapon must have been deliberate. Only a blow from cold iron could possibly pack that kind of wallop.
“Jesus Christ, that guy attacked you! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said, lowering his hand from his sword and pressing it hard into the small of Corinne’s back. “But we need to get out of here fast.”
If he’d been rude before as he’d pushed his way through the milling crowd, now he was ruthless, using a combination of brute strength and magic to move every obstacle from their way. His pace forced Corinne to jog to keep up with him, but he couldn’t worry about that now. The goal was to get her off the street and into the safety of her apartment before their mysterious attacker could double back and try his luck a second time.
“Luc, what the hell is going on?” she demanded as
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