Page 72 of Blood Oath
The man gets annoyed with Maven ignoring him and reaches out to cover her gloved hand with his big, grease-stained one on the gas pump handle. At the same time, his other hand finds her back but slips down, seeking to brush over her ass.
My vision goes red, and I hang up, ready to rip this putrid human into a thousand pathetic, sobbing pieces.
But Maven reacts before I can even take a step forward.
In a smooth move that’s too fast for me to comprehend fully, she yanks the gas pump out of the car, wraps the hose tightly around the man’s neck, and shoves him against the petrol machine. He yelps and chokes on the hose, but after a moment, she lets go, leaving it slack. Her expression still hasn’t changed.
“You bitch!” he shouts, trying to unwrap himself from the hose, which has already left a dark mark around his neck. “I’ll beat your ass for this! What the fucking hell is wrong with you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
He snarls and finally shoves the hose off of himself, taking a threatening step toward her. I take a step forward, too, gritting my teeth as my hair and clothes begin to drift around me.
But she doesn’t back down, and her voice turns chilling. “Get in your truck and leave before I shove that nozzle through your eye socket, pump your head full, and set it on fire.”
The threat is graphic enough for the man, who pales and scrambles away, slamming his truck door and flooring it. The forgotten pump in his own truck yanks hard before popping out as he speeds away with screeching tires.
And I am left in rapt fascination as Maven snorts, lips curling up into a dark smile as she pays for her fuel.
She enjoyed frightening that man.
Knowing that makes my cock ache, and I slip back around the side of the station before she can spot me. Gripping my erection through my jeans, I lean my head back and hiss out a breath. Gods above, I wish she was the one gripping me tightly like this.
People are never more themselves than when they think no one is watching. Seeing that small glimpse into Maven’s true personality has me grinning more to myself as I redial Crane.
He’s seething.“If something happened to Maven, I’m going to?—”
“Don’t bother with an empty threat. I just had a lovely show of our keeper handling things on her own.” Though I’ll still track that ass down and punish him later, in his nightmares. “She’s fine now, about to leave again. Have Frost ready.”
Several minutes later, the time finally comes to officially hijack my darling obsession’s little trip. Dark clouds have converged over this entire area, and snow has begun dusting from the sky so heavily that some cars are pulling off the highway, wary of the sudden blizzard.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t pull over as we intended. But that doesn’t stop me.
Flying low to her car, I slip through the roof of it and drop out of Limbo, directly into the passenger’s seat of her friend’s car. Maven inhales sharply, and the car swerves a bit, but otherwise, she just clenches her teeth and stares straight ahead at the quickly whitening road.
“Go away, Crypt.”
I love how she says my name. Someday, I’ll love her moaning it.
“How important is it to you to make this wedding, love?” I ask.
Her brow furrows, and then she sighs. “You overheard Kenzie talking, didn’t you?”
“Unimportant. What is important is that you pull over and let me drive.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why would?—“
Someone in front of her breaks hard, sliding on the icy road and twisting completely sideways. I curse at them as I reach over to grip the steering wheel between Maven’s hands, barely managing to navigate the car through the mess of parked vehicles along this stretch of road.
Maven huffs, blowing strands of dark hair out of her face. If she was panicked at all about the breaking cars, she doesn’t show it. “Let go.”
“Let me drive, darling. You’ve never driven before, let alone in this kind of weather.”
She side-eyes me briefly. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only because your driving resembles an electrified jellyfish,” I grin.
The car suddenly loses traction, and for a moment, we slide slightly into the opposite lane—directly into oncoming traffic, where a minivan begins blaring its horn, its lights dim from the heavy snowstorm. Maven veers back into the correct lane, but I’m no longer grinning. I could slip into Limbo on impact and be fine, but the risk of her being injured grates on my nerves.
