Amaya sipped her beer and tossed a handful of pretzels into her mouth. Her gaze skipped around the room. If this was a slow night, she’d hate to see what busy looked like. When she arrived an hour ago, it was packed with patrons watching the Tigers game; it was tied in the fourth inning. More people trickled in as the night lengthened. Five men, two women. Six men, two women. Eight men, three women. Lots of testosterone, and not enough estrogen to counter balance.

The servers were all women, two behind the bar along the right side of the room, slinging drinks. Two were in the kitchen. The other two handled the tables. Professional, yet friendly is how Amaya would’ve categorized the staff. She thought about going to a club. The idea of some random guy grinding on her made her violent. The laid back, casual atmosphere of this place was nice.

“Here’s your dinner, and another brew. Enjoy. I’ll check on you later, okay?” Sophie, her waitress, set a plate of steak, french fries, and buttered corn on the table in front of Amaya.

Amaya cut into the meat. Her taste buds moaned at the juicy perfection. Lately, her diet consisted of deli meats and fast food. Either she was starving or this was the best steak she’d ever had. Or she’d forgotten the taste because steak wasn’t usually in her budget.

“What is a woman like you doing here all alone?”

Lost in gastric heaven, she hadn’t seen the man approach. Her radar always warned her of danger. Obviously, he wasn’t a threat. He’d been eyeing her for the better part of twenty minutes. Gathering his strength, she supposed. She smiled at him. He was a bit taller than her with a nice build. Her type, if she had to claim a type. Hipster with a tasteful plaid shirt and dry-cleaned jeans with...loafers? Who wore loafers with jeans? She couldn’t stop the image of him clad in black with shadows clinging and almost snorted the steak out of her nose at the absurdity.

“Hoping to meet a guy like you.” She used her steak knife to point to the empty seat opposite her and bade him to sit.

He held out his hand and introduced himself as Amaya stuffed a french fry into her mouth.

She licked her fingers clean and held out her hand. The guy didn’t hesitate. He had a strong grip that she liked.

He shifted his seat over and said, “You are a beautiful woman.”

She already knew that. At least he was sticking to the script. “Thank you,” she mumbled through a full mouth.

He liked to talk, so she let him. He told her all about himself—he was a law student— and asked a lot of questions about her, which she either deflected or ignored as she finished her meal, and ordered dessert and a cocktail. “Do you know how to play pool?” he asked as she planned on ditching him.

“Umm…” Did she feel like continuing this pointless conversation? Other than returning to her hotel room, it’s not as if she had anything better to occupy her time. “No. I don’t think I do.”

“Let me teach you.”

She followed him to a pool table in the back of the room. He went through the rudiments of the game. Taught her how to hold the cue as he leaned over her, his crotch to her ass while she hit the ball.

A fast learner with superior hand-eye coordination, Amaya beat him after the second game. “You’re no amateur,” he whispered in her ear. He wasn’t pleased with losing, but he still had a genial smile on his face. She could take him back to her hotel room, rock his world, and never see him again. Unfortunately, her libido wasn’t with the program, and hadn’t been with any program since meeting Bane. Just the thought of his name caused an uncomfortable tingle, which she brutally snuffed.

She had to remind herself that this guy was her type and to stop judging him by an UnHallowed yardstick. The guy was human. He couldn’t compare to Bane’s height, width, dangerous edge. He even smelled good. The last time she had sex was a year ago. Goodbye sex isn’t the greatest, especially when you know it’s the last time you’re going to see that person because he isn’t the one and you’ll end up hurting him. Or getting him killed.

He planted his lips on top of hers. It was a good kiss. Enough lips and even a bit of tongue. So why was she colder than a mackerel on ice?

Bane.

“Let’s leave. My place is a few blocks away.” He licked the shell of her ear.

Eww. Not cool when you weren’t horny and had just met the guy. “I don’t screw on the first date. Sorry.” She pulled away. That wasn’t completely true, but he didn’t need the knowledge of a scandalous night when loneliness got the better of her.

He pulled her back. “No problem. We can watch Netflix and chill.”

In other words, watch Netflix until he could get in her pants. “I’m gonna have to pass. I have to be somewhere at sunrise.”

His grip tightened on her wrist. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. It’s just a movie,” he said into her ear and nuzzled her.

Amaya’s heart slowed and her muscles tensed. She reversed the grip he had on her wrist and bent his hand back until he cried out and dropped to one knee. The bar went silent.

“Do you know what no means? I don’t think you do, so let me explain. When a woman says no it means back the fuck off or lose a part of your anatomy. I’ll be a lady and let you choose which piece of your hide you’re willing to part with.”

“S-sorry! S-sorry! S-sorry!”

“Too late to apologize.”

Tears welled in his eyes, yet his free hand balled into a fist. She added more pressure and he screamed as she cracked three bones in his wrist. Darklings died quietly. The sound of ashes falling, the only sound to signify their departure. Why did that random thought enter her mind? She had no intention of killing the guy, yet the temptation was there—a poisonous fruit whetting her appetite for the forbidden. Killing humans, even policing them, wasn’t her job. They had their own law enforcement for that. She wasn’t UnHallowed. One bite of that poisonous fruit and she’d be lost forever.

“That’s enough.”

Power rolled over Amaya’s skin, snapping whatever darkness she’d linked to. She released her wannabee lover and spun to meet the red-rimmed gaze of an UnHallowed.