Master of Smoke

was an assistant football coach at Ditko High. Eva had dated him until she almost bit him one night in an excess of passion. Since she’d become a werewolf from a bite, she figured that wouldn’t have ended well for Joel. She’d broken off their romance the next day, much to his pained bewilderment; he’d fallen for her pretty hard. Eva regretted the situation, but she’d have regretted turning him into a werewolf even more.
    David spun in the center of the shop, sweeping his blade in a figure eight that drew Eva’s helpless gaze. Last night, he’d made love to her with sensuous generosity, so intent on pleasuring her, he’d seemed to read her mind. Today that kind lover had been replaced by a cool assassin, skilled, quick and merciless.
    And God, he turned her on. Eva wasn’t sure she liked what that said about her.
    “Oh.” She blinked and looked around to find Joel watching her with knowing eyes. “It’s like that.” There was a note of pain in his voice. “I’d hoped ... but I guess not.” His shoulders slumped.
    Eva sighed and reached out to rest her hand on his. His curled possessively around her fingers. “Joel ...”
    “Who is this?” David appeared at Joel’s elbow, his gaze narrow on the young man’s face.
    “Ah ...” Oh, hell, his pupils were doing the slit thing again. And Joel, dammit, had noticed, judging by his widening eyes. “Joel Harmon, this is David ...” Oh, damn, she hadn’t invented a last name for him. “... Feral.” Because he sure looked feral at the moment, with those cold cat-blue eyes.
    “She is my lover, boy.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Remove that hand before I break it.”
    “David!” Outraged, Eva glared at him even as Joel pulled hastily away.
    “I’ll ... get my books later, Eva.” Thoroughly spooked, the young man hustled out.
    The minute the door jangled closed behind him, Eva exploded. “That was a customer, David! Not to mention a good friend of mine ...”
    “Yes,” he said icily, “I noticed.”
    “You had no right! Okay, yeah, I used to sleep with him.” She dropped her voice to a low hiss, in case Joel came back in. “I stopped because I’m a freaking werewolf, and I didn’t want to turn him into a werewolf. So we’re not lovers anymore, but even if we were, one night does not give you the right to threaten the poor man!”
    David drew himself up to his full height, looming impressively. She was seriously tempted to turn into Fluffy so she could loom back. “If you think I will be content with one night ...”
    “You’ll be content with whatever I give you! I decide who I sleep with!”
    “Of course you do, but ...”
    She was in no mood to be placated. “I already hurt him once. Now I’ve hurt him again, and he doesn’t deserve it!”
    “He’s not worthy of you.” David’s strong jaw jutted stubbornly. “He’s a coward.”
    “He is not!” She gestured at his slit pupils. “You just intimidated him with the freaky eye-thing you do when you’re pissed.”
    “Had it been me, I would not have backed down. I would have fought for you.” His lids veiled a hot stare. “A woman like you is worth the risk.”
    Eva felt her anger deflate. Well, hell. What was she supposed to say to that?
    His head lowered toward hers. She watched his lips as her heartbeat leaped into a gallop.

    Joel Harmon started to get into his candy apple red Pontiac, only to discover his hands were shaking so hard, the keys jangled. Okay, obviously he needed time to calm down. Maybe he should grab a bite from the coffee shop and chill.
    Jesus, Eva’s new boyfriend had the weirdest eyes he’d ever seen. Must have been wearing some kind of contacts.
    Still shaking a little, Joel walked down to Sandwiched In, three doors down the strip mall from the Comix Cave. He and Eva used to go there for lunch all the time while they were dating. The menu included a decent ham and cheese panini, but it was the caramel frappe that was his favorite guilty indulgence.
    After his encounter with Eva’s new boyfriend, Joel figured he owed himself a splurge. He’d run an extra couple of miles in the morning to make up for the calories.
    He was waiting in line when Eva’s dad walked in. Joel mentally cringed. He’d known Bill Roman since he’d started reading comics when he was nine years old. The man loved to talk, but just now, Joel wasn’t in the mood.
    Sure enough, Bill stepped in line behind him. “Hey, kid. How’s it goin’?”
    Joel pasted a smile