Deadly Design
He walked up the steps and kicked the door a few times. I realized too late that it was a variation of knocking. “Put me down,” I demanded.
“Look injured,” he shot back.
The door opened, and Andrea froze. “Hol-”
“You and your sister have a very similar vocabulary,” he interrupted, stepping over the threshold. “Were do you want her?”
“I’m not an object,” I piqued, flushing. “Just put me down or I swear I’ll break your nose.”
“Charming,” he said at me dismissively.
“Er, uh, the couch,” Andrea said, fumbling for words and following Seth as he brushed past her, down the hall, and into the living room. “What happened?”
“Anita saw some very, very scary wolves and panicked. She twisted her ankle and fell while running; they didn’t chase her.”
Andrea was watching him with obvious distrust. “And why are you here?”
He didn’t look over at her, instead setting me down and keeping his eyes fixed on mine as if trying to convey something important. I was still out of the loop; wolves? As in plural? Had I somehow missed one? Or more? Ugh, I had a headache to go along with my “twisted ankle”. “I found her,” he replied simply.
“And how did you find her?” Andrea questioned, eyes narrowed.
This time he did glance over. “What, Anita hasn’t told you? I’m stalking her.”
For a second, Andrea looked so flustered I wanted to laugh. Then her face pinched and she scowled at him. “Do you think this is funny?”
He put on an obvious look of mock horror. “No, of course not. It’s never funny when Milady gets hurt.” I gave him a wicked scowl.
Andrea looked equally as angry. “Get out of my house!” she snapped, pointing toward the door. Her eyes were narrowed, and for a second she looked scarier than the wolf. Seth raised his hands in surrender, winked at me, and strode calmly toward the door. I was a little surprised that Andrea didn’t throw anything at him on the way out. Maybe she was afraid it would prompt him to stay longer. The door clicked shut after him.
She wheeled around toward me, looking a little less angry and a little more bemused. “Is he always so…” she trailed off, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to the place he’d just vanished.
“Annoying? Cocky? Open?”
She arched one eyebrow. “I was going to say sexy, but that works too.”
I resisted the urge to beat my head in with a book. But only just barely.
No comments:
Post a Comment