“A game?”
“I have specific tastes.” He leaned forward, making the world fade away. “I think you’ll enjoy them. You see, I’m going to hunt you.” His voice dropped lower, intimate. “You’re going to run. If I catch you—” his lips curved into a predatory smile “—I fuck you in every way your little bunny brain canhandle. Until you’re a trembling, dripping mess that can’t so much as whisper ‘thank you.’” He sat back, casual as ever. “You get ten minutes to hide anywhere in the city. Then, I’m coming for you.”
A shiver ran down my spine—fear or arousal, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both. I forced a laugh. “You’re not serious.”
“Deadly.” The word hung between us like a promise. He gestured to my plate as our food arrived. “Eat. You’ll need your energy.” The conversation shifted then, becoming lighter, filled with subtle flirtation and shared laughter. By dessert, I’d almost convinced myself he’d been joking. That this was just an elaborate form of foreplay.
Then we stepped out into the alley beside the restaurant.
Before I could react, my back hit the brick wall. His mouth crashed into mine, hungry and demanding. His hands were everywhere at once—tangling in my hair, gripping my hip, sliding under my shirt to trace burning patterns on my skin. I melted into him, forgetting everything but the heat building between us.
Then he pulled back, just enough to look down into my eyes. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered one word: “Run.”
Something electric shot through me—primal, instinctive. Before I could think, my feet were already moving, carrying me deeper into the night, the icy air burning in my lungs as I ran. Behind me, I heard his dark chuckle echo off the alley walls.
Chapter Five
Hunted
Ten minutes. That’s what he’d given me—ten minutes to lose myself in a city I thought I knew. The cold bit into my lungs as I ran, each breath crystallizing in the winter air.
My dress shoes slipped on black ice as I rounded another corner. I caught sight of him ahead and spun down Mason Avenue—only to spot that distinctive red hair near the entrance to Twilight Lane. Impossible. He’d been behind me. I took the only other option—deeper into the maze of historic homes where old money and older magic lived in ornate facades.
The streets grew quieter here, more residential. Gas lamps still cast long shadows across cobblestone streets. Each turn led further into the heart of the district, past towering Victorian mansions.
My foot caught on uneven stone as I passed an imposing brownstone. I went down hard on the bottomsteps; the impact driving what little air remained from my lungs. Cold began seeping through my clothes as I tried and failed to push myself up. Through blurred vision, I took in the building’s commanding presence—old stone and gleaming brass, elaborate ironwork framing a door that looked like it belonged in another century.
In the strange half-light of the gas lamps, I could see my breath coming in short, desperate clouds.
“I found you.” His voice rolled through the darkness like thunder, equal parts amusement and hunger. “Are you ready to play?”
Pain shot through my ribs as I tried to push myself up from the cold stone steps. Even breathing hurt, the freezing air burning in my overworked lungs.
“Need a hand?” His voice was rich with amusement. When I didn’t answer, his fingers tangled in my hair. Not pulling—not yet—but establishing control. “Or should I carry you?”
“I can walk,” I managed, though my legs felt like jelly. His hand slid from my hair to grip my upper arm, hauling me to my feet with effortless strength. The world spun as blood rushed to my head.
“Of course you can.” He steadied me, one large hand settling at the small of my back. The warmth of his palm seeped through my sweat-damp shirt. “Though I have to wonder if you know where you’ve run to.”
In the light from the old gas lamps, the brownstone loomed like something from another century. Intricate ironwork framed a door that weighed more than I did, brass fixtures gleaming despite the late hour.
A slow smile spread across his face as understanding dawned in my eyes. “Darling bunny. You ran straight home to me.” Dark amusement coloring his voice as he ushered me inside. I’d expected a sparse bachelor pad, maybe a studio apartment above one of the shops like mine. What I got instead was one of the renovated Victorian mansions that lined the historic district. Kronos guided me through a heavy wooden door, his hand never leaving the small of my back.
The foyer opened into a space that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread—warm-toned hardwood floors and high coffered ceilings. A massive leather sectional dominated one wall, its rich burgundy surface gleaming in the light from artdécosconces. The coffee table looked carved from a single piece of ancient wood, its surface rippling with natural whorls and knots that moved in the shadowy light.
Massive canvases lined the walls, all in rich colors that absorbed the light. One depicted a hunt scene—dark figures on horseback pursuing something just out of frame, their forms almost liquid in their movement. Another showed what might have been a forest at night, but the longer I looked at it, the more the branches seemed to reach out from the canvas, twisting into almost-familiar shapes.
“Nice place,” I managed, trying not to stare at a striking piece that appeared to be painted in shades of dried blood. “Bounty hunting must pay better than I thought.”
Kronos chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest where he’d pressed against my back. “I’ve been at it a long time.” His lips brushed my ear. “Very long.” I shivered, and not just from the contact. There was something about this place—something in the way the shadows pooled in the corners, in the way the art seemed to watch us.
“Drink?” He was already moving toward a bar cart that looked like it belonged in an old-world gentleman’s club, all polished brass and cut crystal.
“Dark ‘n’ Stormy?”
He paused, considering me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “I have something else in mind. Something special.” He lifted a decanter filled with a clear liquid that shimmered with an opalescent glow. “Family recipe.”
I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “What is it?”
