Thirty

Gia

I blanched at that comment and slumped helplessly over his shoulder. These guys were over six feet tall and made from a mountain of muscles. They would murder little old me with a flick of their fingers. The driver of the van got out to help, and my captor dropped me down and restrained me from behind. He held me so hard I thought I felt a rib crack.

"Please, I won't tell anybody what I saw," I whimpered.

He pushed his nose against the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply. "You have his essence all over you," he murmured. "Hunter scum."

"What? I don't know what you're talking about," I sobbed.

"His seed. You reek of it," he rasped, sounding disgusted by it.

Could they still pick up a guy's scent even after I washed it off? What the fucking fuck?

I was in way over my head, and I knew it.

"He was in the club where I work. I don't know him. I was just paid to dance for him," I made feeble excuses, clutching at straws. "I promise . . . it's the truth."

"So you're just a half-fry human