Hunting Angel (Divisa #2)

He had gone out.

Those scattered feelings of unease I started to notice only happened when we were apart. The longer he was gone, the more it increased, a squeezing pressure in my chest. What was even crazier was I knew the precise nanosecond he got home.

Sighing in relief from the persistent and annoying ache in my heart, I wasn’t very happy with this new development. I seriously did not want to be stressed out every time he decided to go somewhere.

The bigger question was, do I, or do I not, ask Chase if he had the same reaction. There would be nothing more humiliating and awkwardness if this was a one-sided byproduct of our bond. I didn’t want to appear desperate and clingy.

I was not that girl.





Chapter 9


Monday came and Chase was in a mood – a dark mood. We hardly talked on the drive to school and once we got to the parking lot he took off, leaving Lexi and me behind.

“What’s his deal?” I asked.

She just shrugged her dainty shoulders, blonde hair spilling over them and stared at her cousin’s formidable back. “Who the heck knows. It’s Chase. He doesn’t need a reason to be pissy.”

I’ll say.

By the time I made it to chem class, I was actually feeling anxious. Today was the first time since Halloween night that I would see Brody. I wasn’t sure how I should feel about that.

Chase was in his usual seat behind me, scowling and looking as grumpy as a bear. His eyes were zeroed in on Brody, and they were doing some weird eye-pissing match. Occasionally Brody would glance in my direction and I swear I heard Chase growl.

After the third time, I spun around in my chair, oblivious to the attention I was drawing. “Will you stop,” I hissed at Chase.

He reclined in his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I warned him,” he said darkly.

I heard my name just as I was about to go postal. “Ms. Morgan. Is there a problem I am unaware of?” Mr. Edgington interrupted my scolding.

Chase smirked and arched that damn brow with the silver hoop.

Right then, he was darn lucky I resisted the urge to pluck it from his eyebrow. Giving him a quick glare, I turned back toward the front of class and replied, “Nope. No problem.”

A few kids snickered, knowing Chase and I had a history of getting on each other’s nerves. “Good. Then let’s proceed, shall we,” Mr. Edgington said, pushing his dorky glasses back up the bridge of his sweaty nose.

I wasn’t making excuse for Brody, but I was trying to protect Chase. Well maybe Brody too. I wasn’t entirely sure that Chase wouldn’t literally rip his head off. I felt Chase’s hands grip the desk behind me and Brody’s eyes, like a red-handed thief, darted to the blackboard.

I rolled my eyes. This was going well.

Peeking from under my lashes to my right, my eyes clashed with Brody’s. I’d done a pretty bang up job of ignoring him since I walked into class, but here it was. Our first contact and Chase wasn’t having it. Quickly, I shot my gaze back to the doodlings on my desk and tried with all my might to forget Brody even existed.

Chase was making that very difficult.

I was so hyper aware of Chase and the anger rolling off him that the room suddenly felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on me. The air was harder to breathe, and I couldn’t wait for this class to end.

I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was some kind of dominance power trip. Maybe it was some Neanderthal BS marking me his. Or maybe he just read the tense lines in my body. Whatever it was, it caught me off-guard.

I heard Chase exhale and shift forward in his seat, leaning close behind me. I practically jumped out of my seat when I felt his hand at the nape of my neck. He parted my long hair and started drawing lazy circles on the back of my neck with his finger.

Tingles shot down my spine, and I had to bite my lip to refrain from closing my eyes and sighing. Just his touch was enough to ease the tension and worries I’d been feeling. Conscious that we were smack dab in the middle of a chem lecture, I tried to ease away from his reach to no avail. It didn’t matter how many times I swatted his hand away, he would chuckle low and start again. Finally, I just gave up.

Huge mistake. Monstrous.

It became distracting to a near point of explosive lust. I bit my lip – hard, just to keep from mortifying myself. It was definitely starting to get uncomfortable, and the second class ended I was going to pounce on him. Clarification – pounce as in I was going to give him the verbal lashing of the century, not pounce as in slamming him against the lockers and devouring him with just my mouth.

Damn him.