Lover Beware

to matter.
    Lily took her Diet Coke to a corner where she could keep an eye on the room. Her stony stare worked on the first two men who started toward her—they veered away, pretending they’d been heading to the men’s room all along.
    The next guy was more persistent. Probably trying to win a bet, Lily thought, disgusted, as he approached. He’d been sitting with the other two.
    “Hey, there, honey. My name’s Biff.”
    Oh, surely not. Would any woman do such a thing to her child? Lily looked up. Way up.
    He was huge. Six-four, maybe two-thirty. He wore a red ball cap and jeans tight enough to endanger his future offspring. His head was too small for his body, but his features were regular enough that he probably thought he was good-looking. He carried two beers in one hand, and smelled as if he’d already drunk several. His hands were the size of catcher’s gloves.
    “I don’t want a beer, and I don’t want company.”
    “My treat,” he said genially, setting both amber bottles on the table and reaching for the other chair.
    She kicked the chair away. “My mama told me never to talk to clichés.”
    “C’mon, honey, don’t be that way. I’ll treat you real nice. Ask anyone here. Matthew!” he bellowed. “Tell the lady what a nice guy I am.”
    The bartender looked over, bored. “Real nice.”
    “There, you see? I’m not gonna hurt a sweet little thing like you. Would you rather have somethin’ else to drink? Maybe a Tom Collins. Hey, Matthew, get this—”
    “No. Go away. I’m waiting for someone.”
    “Hey, I’ll do just as well! Probably better.” He beamed at her, dragged the chair back, and sat down. “I’m a fun guy.”
    Lily put her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Let me explain. I don’t want company while I wait, I don’t want a drink, I don’t want to dance or talk to you or look at you. You’ll have to trust me on this. You won’t do at all. You will get up now and go away.”
    He leaned back, still smiling. But his eyes lost their amiable gloss, and underneath they were pure mean. “Well, now, I don’t quite see how a little bitty thing like you is gonna make me do that, if I don’t want to.” He rested his forearm on the table, closed his hand into a fist, and made his biceps clench.
    His friends—the two men Lily had sent off with the Stare—sat at a table about ten feet away. The bar wasn’t crowded. They had a great view, and were nudging each other and chuckling.
    Real funny, hassling a woman because they thought they could get away with it. Briefly Lily toyed with the idea of stating her price, letting him agree to buy an hour of her time, and then arresting him. She sighed. It was a pleasant fantasy, but impractical. Instead, she reached inside the flap of her purse—and saw Rule near the door, headed for her.
    He was not happy.
    Time to move mean-and-stupid along. She pulled out the leather case with her shield and showed it to him. “You want to leave now.”
    He looked at it, his heavy eyebrows pulling down.
    “You heard the lady.” Rule’s left hand clamped down hard on Big Biff’s shoulder. His fingers dug in. His face wore a curiously intent, inward expression. “But you weren’t listening, were you?”
    Biff’s eyes bulged in sudden pain. He went stiff and made a choked sound.
    “Rule!” She spoke sharply. How had he crossed the room so fast? “Don’t break anything.”
    “Hmm?” He glanced up, his eyes meeting hers. His eyes. Dear God. The color had bled into the whites until they were wholly dark, gleaming. “Oh, yes,” he said mildly. “Sorry about that. Here, let me help you up.”
    He didn’t give Biff much choice, hoisting him bodily from the chair. The big man swayed for a second, blinking fast to get rid of tears of pain.
    Just how strong was Rule?
    “What the hell—?” Biff’s protest was weak. He was trying to regain his swagger as he turned. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, grabbing me that—holy shit.”
    He’d seen Rule’s eyes.
    Lily shoved her shield back in her purse and stood. “I don’t like it here. Too many friendly people. Let’s go somewhere else.”
    “Hey!” Biff’s voice rose. “Hey, I know who you are. You’re that werewolf!”
    Silence scattered like sparks around the room, striking those closest first and spreading fast. Biff’s buddies shoved to their feet.
    “You’re right,” Rule said, but he was looking at her, not Biff. His eyes still looked weird,