Blair opened his eyes and turned his head to watch. One minute no one stood behind the man, and the next Declan was there with an arm around the guy’s chest, holding him in place. His other hand gripped the man’s chin.
“Drop it,” Declan snarled. The man struggled, and Declan gave him a small jerk. “I was sixteen the first time I killed a man with my bare hands. You’re responsible for my young friend here being hurt. Drop. It.”
The man sucked in a breath, but his fingers opened, and the gun fell to the ground.
“I will kill you. You have the choice of it being quick and painless—here one minute, not here the next. Or…” Declan moved his hand and pressed against the man’s neck. “Do you feel where my thumb is pressing in? Enough pressure there will sever your spinal cord.”
“Fuck you. You can’t really—”
Blair watched as Declan tightened his arm around the man’s rib cage and jerked up with enough force to raise the guy’s feet off the ground for a few seconds. His face turned red, and he gulped.
“Getting hard to breathe? I’m a vampire. That makes me strong enough to crush your rib cage and snap your neck.”
“You’re delusional,” the guy grumbled.
Declan’s eyes changed to a solid moss green, and his fangs dropped. He turned the man’s head far enough to see him. “Whether or not you believe in our existence is irrelevant. Who are you working for?”
The man spit at Declan.
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