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Michael...

“I find it a little disappointing how easy you’ve made this, really.” I turn to Rosa and rest my hip on the counter. “You seemed a promising opponent. And it’s so rare a human provides any entertainment these days—what with all the lusty females drooling over every broody male bearing a sense of style that walks in the door. It’s like you’re all perpetually in heat. You don’t even make it hard on a guy anymore.” I take a sip of the tea and sigh. “It’s sad, really.”


“How nice that we’re just a game to you.” Her fire is coming back a little now that she’s caught her breath and found her feet again.


I smile and set down my cup.



Then I let my eyes take her in, the chunk of her dark hair that’s come loose, her chin jutting out in defiance against me, the shirt beneath her blazer opening a little at the stomach where a button was lost. She’s a vision. “Actually, sweetie. You’re food."





 

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