Nixon moved before the stranger could blink.
One second, he was on the porch.
The next, he had the male slammed against a tree with claws at his throat.
“Who the f**k are you?”
The stranger only smiled wider despite the bark splitting beneath his back.
Silver eyes.
Sharp teeth.
No fear.
“Talia,” the man said calmly, completely ignoring Nixon’s threat, “you truly are difficult to find.”
Nixon’s claws dug deeper.
Blood trickled down the stranger’s neck.
“I asked you a question.”
The man finally looked at him.
And something cold slid down Nixon’s spine.
Because those eyes…
Those eyes looked ancient.
Predatory.
Mad.
“Move your hand,” the stranger said softly, “before I remove it.”
Nixon snarled.
Behind him, Talia stepped onto the porch.
“Nixon.”
The single word made him p
