Excerpt: Wrong Side of Hell
“That’s nice. Now can we go?” Logan took a step up onto the pavilion. He’d damn well pull her down if he had to.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand more than you know.”
She pointed to grass-cutting man once more. “He died a few years ago. Mergerone couldn’t wait to tell me. So why is he here? Why am I here?” Her voice rose several notches. “How could I have been at a market in the Caribbean and in Central Park within an hour of each other? On what planet is that possible?”
A dark sliver of energy materialized on the far side of the park. Logan growled and took the last step until he was inches from her. “Look, lady. We don’t have time for tea and cookies and twenty-five fucking questions.”
She totally ignored him, which pissed him off. Usually when Logan’s animal rumbled beneath his flesh, people took notice.
“You rescued me from that . . . that thing all those years ago. I remember all of it. I know you too.”
That surprised him.
“You brought me back from the dark place. You saved me from the beast.”
“The beast?” He snorted. If she only knew.
Her eyes were liquid pools and she nodded slowly. “Yes, the beast. At least that’s what I call it.” She paused. “I thought of you as my savior for the longest time, but that’s not what you are, is it?”
She paused and then whispered. “So what are you?”
He watched her closely. “The beast.”