Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
He changed. Rogan changed. Almost instantaneously. I looked away for mere seconds, and when I turned…
No sound. No bones snapping. No howling or shrieking.
He just…changed.
This isn’t anything new. I’m well aware of his heritage, of what shifters become. I’ve just never witnessed it before. I had no idea it happened so quickly. I walk forward where the tatters of his leather boots, his jeans, his T-shirt lie on the ground. His scent is still thick in the air, and my body reacts. My nipples harden, and I throb between my legs.
My God, I’m in love with a fucking wolf.
I close my eyes for a moment, allow the thought to sink in. Then I pop my eyes back open and attempt to think logically.
I’m here for a reason. If Rogan is behind the vamp murders, I need to prove it. That’s why I’m here. Not to lust after the suspect.
“Get a grip, Hannah,” I say aloud.
I leave the alleyway and head around to the front of the resort. Crowds of people running along the strip. Fear and panic cut through the air as individuals push and shove each other, knock each other to the ground. What’s going on?
I meander through the throng of bodies and make it to the front door.
A security guard stops me. “I can’t let you in, ma’am,” he says. “There’s been a bomb threat.”
My eyebrows nearly fly off my forehead. “What?”
“Move away from the hotel for your own safety. The bomb squad is on the way.”
“Let me in,” I say.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I—”
“Let me in.”
The guard’s eyes glaze over. No demon here, unless he’s faking. “Of course.” He stands aside. “Go right in.”
Perhaps entering a building in the middle of a bomb threat isn’t the brightest idea, but I’m banking on Rogan. His security is top-notch, probably filled with demons, and I’m willing to bet this is a fake. The upside for me if it is? I can do a search of the place while no one else is present.
The downside?
I get blown to smithereens.
Not on my bucket list, but then neither was falling for a damned alpha werewolf.
“I’ll take your keys, too,” I say to the guard.
“Of course.” He hands me a carabiner with at least a dozen keys attached.
“And your code.”
“Five one seven one.”
I nod. “Thank you. Have a good day.” I enter the building, trying to keep the keys from jingling.
People are still pouring out of the building, their eyes wide with alarm and confusion. I edge to the side, use the momentum to push myself in the opposite direction until I’m through the lobby. The elevators aren’t working, so I walk past them to the door marked “stairs.”
Fuck. It’s locked.
The keys jingle. No problem. They aren’t labeled, so I try one. No go. The next. No go. The third.
Bingo!
The doorknob turns, and I run up the stairs. I’m in good shape, but it’s going to take some energy to get to the top floor, where Rogan’s suite is. Or is it a penthouse? Hell if I know. I’ve been there, but I was so engrossed in Rogan I took notice of nothing else.
Not my finest hour.
I hurry up the first ten flights of stairs hardly feeling it. These Vegas hotels are massive, though. How many stories does this one have? I read somewhere that the Bellagio has thirty-six floors…and the London is taller than the Bellagio.
Fuck.
I inhale deeply and take another flight. Then another. One more.
Yeah. There’s a reason why everyone hates the cardio stair climber at the gym.
I turn to begin the next flight when a figure whisks past me. “Get the hell out of here, lady!” He’s gone in a flash.
Where is everyone else? Surely they couldn’t have evacuated the place this quickly. Or maybe they did. Time seems to suspend itself when I’m with Rogan. I have no idea how long he and I were in that alley. How long I lay there after he ran away in wolf form.
I trudge up the next twenty flights before I have to sit and take a breather. The bomb squad must be here by now. If there is a bomb, they’ll disarm it. If there isn’t, then I’m not in harm’s way anyway.
All is good.
I jump when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I pull it out and read the text from a number I don’t recognize.
Get out of there! It’s not safe!
I ignore it and shove the phone back into my pocket. Someone knows I’m here.
Not good.
Is it Rogan? I doubt he can text without the use of opposable thumbs. Maybe he’s changed back already.
Doesn’t matter. I have a job to do. I take a deep breath as my heart finally begins to slow down to a reasonable pace. Then I gaze upward. Only about…ten or twelve more flights. After that I’ll be begging to be blown up.