Nora's POV
My gaze locks with one of the gunmen and I let a small smile play across my lips. His grip tightens around the weapon, but his attention shifts to the crackling orb of energy suspended inches from my open palm.
That's when his partner spots James's extended fangs.
"Jesus Christ, he's a bloodsucker!" The second man's voice cracks as he swings his rifle toward James's torso. "Stay back, you dead freak!"
James's laughter rumbles through his chest, dark and predatory. He advances with deliberate slowness, each movement seeming designed to intimidate.
"Those bullets won't even slow me down unless they're carved from wood."
The gunman's hands shake violently and I worry he might fire by accident. James speaks the truth about regular ammunition being useless against him, but getting shot would still be agonizing. Plus, explaining bloodstained clothes and bullet holes would make dinner reservations complicated.
