I needed this blanket.

Blanket tucked under my arm, I pretended I wasn’t shaking with adrenaline as I headed to the checkout. The man’s body came into full view, and then I couldn’t even pretend anymore.

He was built like a god. Large, thick shoulders tapered down to trim hips. His formfitting white T-shirt showed off muscular biceps, the bumps of his pecs, and the plane of his stomach. To complete the picture of mighty strength and power, his muscular thighs strained his snug jeans.

The man would be jaw-dropping if not for the raw intensity rolling from him in heady waves. His eyes held a haunted viciousness that spoke of imbalance. Live in the cracks of society for long enough, and you become an expert on spotting danger. This guy would kill, or had killed, without batting an eye. He wasn’t here to chat. If he’d had something to say, he would’ve said it by now. If he’d wanted a groveling apology, he wouldn’t be tracking me silently, like a predator does his prey.

Everything in me said to run like my hair was on fire. I was the little brown mouse in this scenario, and he the snake, coiled and ready to strike.

But I was a caretaker if not a pseudo-mother, and I would not let Mordecai down because of an outrageously scary though equally attractive stalker. I just had to hope this man was not so unhinged as to accost me in plain sight.

Which meant I’d better damn well stay in plain sight.

“Gotta buy this,” I mumbled to myself for encouragement while quickening my pace. “He’s too sick not to. Just gonna…move faster.”

This guy was big, but was he fast? Because I was fast. I was super fast, especially when a huge man with lots of working muscle was chasing me.

At the cashier, I praised all things holy that there was no line and I had cash in my pocket. There would be no awkward pauses as the curly-haired checker verified my ID against a debit card, realized I wasn’t “like her,” and tried to figure out if she could wait on me or not. Sometimes the answer was no, true, but a teller should really know the rules of the establishment in which she worked.

I flicked my hair to hide some of my anxious tremors as she reached for the blanket. Her wide smile was reassuring, and I let a smile linger on my face in response. Peers, that was what we were. Just two normal gals going about their lives.

An intimidating presence filled in behind me, and I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat.

“Sir, I can help you over here,” the cashier beside us called in a sweet voice.

My cashier, Darlene, going by the nametag, looked up. Her eyes widened and she paused before putting the blanket into a bag.

“Sir?” the cashier next to us called again.

“I’ll stay here.” His voice was barrel-deep and raspy. The confidence in it vibrated through my body and burned across my skin.

I sucked in a deep breath, feeling a pull in my core, the kind of warm tug that made a girl stand up and take notice. Both female checkers, older but no less immune, mirrored my reaction. I nearly didn’t notice the lilt to his words, a slight accent pleasantly riding his speech. I absolutely noticed, however, the force of his presence, beating into me in a way I’d never felt before. It was lovely and disconcerting and horrible all at the same time.

I leaned forward, my legs shaking harder and my feet tingling. “Hurry there, if you wouldn’t mind,” I said softly, cash held out in front of me.

Her smile was less sure, and her eyes kept darting to the man in line behind me. “Of course.”

A moment later, I took the bag and forcefully told myself not to glance back. Not to make eye contact and possibly excite the little gremlins cranking the wheel in his head.

I could knife myself for how infrequently I listened.

His stormy gaze found mine immediately, his eyes the blue-gray of the ocean right before a squall. I guessed his height at six two, topping mine by only five or so inches. Usually that wouldn’t feel imposing, but with his size and stature, it felt like he towered over me, impossibly large and powerful.

His hands were empty. He wasn’t buying anything.

“Did you want your receipt?” the cashier asked, but I was already striding away.

Outside the door, I walked as fast as I could, ready to break into a sprint if he came running after me. I made it down the walkway and out of sight from the store, however, and no one followed me.

That didn’t slow my pace.

My dilapidated Honda with rust patches and various shades of blue paint waited where I’d left it, blessedly alone. Heart hammering, I stuck the key into the lock as fast as possible before ripping open the door. I threw in the blanket and pulled my purse up over my head.

A large motor revved, capturing my attention. Cherry red and ultra-sporty, a Ferrari turned the corner into my parking aisle.

“Oh crap,” I said in a hasty release of breath, clutching the handles of my purse.

The sports car stopped right behind my Honda. My heart tasted acidic in my throat. The predator had me cornered.

The door swung open, and the stranger crawled free of its depths. Movements lithe and athletic, he walked around the car with a purposeful gait, his shoulders back and air confident.

I did what any sensible woman would do. I dove into my purse and fished out a small can of mace.

I straightened up with the mace at my side, holding it near my leg so as not to be obvious. He stopped in front of me and stared down for an intense, silent moment. Tremors ran through my body and shook my knees. I licked my parched lips. Was he waiting for me to speak first? Because I’d play ball if it would help me figure out what kind of trouble I was in.

Right after I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

“Can I help you?” I asked as calmly as I could.

“You should watch where you’re walking.” His voice was oh-so-pleasant. The harsh stare with a vicious glimmer was not. Sweat trickled down my back.

“I should. That’s true. But that service driveway is for authorized personnel only. Your car doesn’t fit the bill. I didn’t realize it would roll through.” The excuse was a poor one, but it was all I had.

The intensity of his gaze increased. Silence stretched between us. My tongue re-stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“You’re lucky,” he finally said, and the raw danger in his voice cut right through me. “If this were the magical zone, I could have killed you outright. But clearly you know that…”

Ah, crap. He was magical.

My brain churned furiously, and I cursed myself for not knowing more about the magical hierarchy. There were a ton of rich guys driving nice cars in either society, but only the people toward the top of said hierarchy could dole out punishments to civilians.

“Exactly,” I rushed to say, pushing the advantage. In the back of my mind, I was scratching this complex off the list of areas I would visit…ever again. “I’m out of your jurisdiction. I don’t even live in the magical zone. Your rules don’t apply to me. When here.”

His eyes dipped to my lips then back up, the flicker so quick that I half wondered if I was seeing things. “I can feel the magic in you,” he said accusingly. “Unless you are here for other reasons…it is beneath you to reside in this place.” His words dripped with disdain, and though he didn’t turn to survey the shopping complex, his tone gave the effect that he had. His gaze delved into me, searching. For what, I had absolutely no idea. “But you are correct. It is mutual soil. I can’t do to you what I would like.”

Shivers washed down my body, and I flicked off the safety on the mace. If he could sense magical power, it meant he was either a Sensor, and I was moderately in the clear, or he had a shitload of power himself. Those who were close to the pinnacle of power could quite literally get away with murder. The only things I had going for me were a bottle of mace, a good sprint, and witnesses.

“But you can rest assured—” He stepped forward, the movement so fast that I instantly panicked.

I yanked up the mace, aimed, and pressed the button in one quick movement.

He dodged to the side, his reactions superhumanly fast and his movements so smooth they looked oiled. His hand sailed up out of nowhere to slap the bottle away, but he stopped before he made contact.

Because nothing had sprayed out.