Alexandra Ivy: Predatory

Pike’s eyes grew and he led me away from the officers checking out the scene. “Yeah.”

“And here I thought Emerson was the unholy one.”

He looked genuinely offended. “I’m not unholy. I’m an ancient legend—my family has been shifting for hundreds of generations.”

“Shifting? So what are you—?” I paused, glancing down at those nails again and then backing away. “No. Oh, no. No.”

“What?”

“You’re the bird. You’re the fucking black bird, aren’t you?”

“Crow.”

“Diseased flying rodent . . .”

Pike’s lip curled into a snarl. “Those are pigeons. And you should talk! Bats are, like, the most rabid animals in history.”

I was suddenly more offended by Pike than I was by Nicolette’s attempted thrashing. “I do not turn into a bat!”

Moyer stepped over, his bushy eyebrows curved down in confusion. “Ugh, are you guys through here? We’re just about to take Nicolette downtown. Apparently, she planned to take out all three of the competitors and launch her own fashion show at the end of it.”

Pike grimaced.

“Well, it does make sense. Her cuts on Emerson’s fabric were impeccable—except for going against the grain.”

Both Moyer and Pike gaped at me and I shrugged. “Just an observation.”

“Anyway,” Moyer said to me. “Good thing she didn’t get her hands on you.”

My hand immediately went to my smashed nose and crushed browbone that had since healed.

Love that vampire super-speed thing.

“So,” Pike said after Moyer departed. “I think we make a pretty good crime-fighting team.”

“What? Bird Boy and Kick Ass?”

Pike cocked a brow. “You know Bird Boy just saved your ass.”

“Yeah, well.” I paused, considering. “It took you long enough.”