When I stood up and turned away from the grave, I saw a guy leaning against one of the taller headstones, watching me.

He looked to be in his midtwenties, and was possibly the most beautiful being I’d ever seen. With messy blond hair, brilliant green eyes, and the face of a freaking angel, he was what sinful fantasies were made of. It didn’t help that his black shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, offering a glimpse of golden skin and tight muscles. And to make matters worse, his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. Why did rolled up sleeves automatically make guys so much hotter? It sounded so ridiculous when people talked about that in various bookclub Facebook groups, but clearly I wasn’t immune to the effect.

My gaze traveled lower without my permission, taking in the black leather pants that hugged his thighs perfectly (Who the hell wears leather pants anymore?) and ass-kicking boots. He screamed dangerous. Not the way a guy covered in tattoos or coming out of a biker bar did. This guy didn’t look scary, but he gave off an aura of power. Kind of like a vampire out of a dark romance.

I dragged my eyes back up to his face, which took a while since he had to be a couple inches over six feet tall.

He raised a single brow and his lips curved into a smirk. He so knew I’d been checking him out.

“Sierra Meyers.” It wasn’t a question.

I blinked, taking a step back.

How did he know my name? I was sure I’d never seen him before. I would’ve remembered his face.

“Who are you?”

“Nathaniel.” His gaze slid over my body from head to toe. He didn’t look at me like he was checking me out so much as like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. He shook his head, clearly giving up.

“How do you know me?” I was way past my quota of weird interactions for the week. I just wanted to go home and lose myself in a romance novel until Kylie came home and convinced me to do something with her. I didn’t have the energy to deal with strangers who somehow knew my name.

“You messed with the wrong people, and now you’re all involved in a war that has nothing to do with you.” Nathaniel’s voice sounded disinterested, almost bored. “I’m here to make sure no one hurts a pretty hair on your head. Congratulations, baby girl, you’ve been accepted into the celestial witness protection program. Though I guess you weren’t really just a witness, were you?”

My jaw dropped, and I gaped at him for a solid thirty seconds before finding my voice again. “What are you smoking?” I held up my hand. “You know what? I don’t actually want to know. I’m leaving now.” I walked past him, trying to ignore the heat I could feel radiating off his body when I got close.

I got about three feet away from him before he spoke again. “What did you do with the stake?”

“What?” I turned around slowly.

He smirked at me. “The stake you used to kill the demon, what did you do with it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to sound confident, but I didn’t think I was fooling anyone. Had he been listening to the story I told my father? Was that how he knew about the stake and the man I stabbed with it? But I hadn’t called Glowy-eyes a demon, and I hadn’t been sure I killed him.

Nathaniel moved closer at a leisurely pace, like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t stop until he was close enough that I had to look up to see his face. “You’re in over your head, baby girl. You may have gotten lucky once, but that streak won’t last when Hell seeks revenge. I’m the only chance you’ve got.”

I took a step back, trying to put some distance between not just his body but his words as well. “You’re not making any sense. Demons don’t exist.”

“And people don’t collapse into smoke when you stab them, but that’s what you saw, isn’t it?”

I shook my head from side to side, not so much an answer to his question as it was an attempt to clear my thoughts. “I don’t need your help or whatever it is you’re offering. Please leave me alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Because I need you?” I let out a laugh that was getting dangerously close to hysterical.

His answering smile was bitter. “Because I don’t have a choice.”

I squared my shoulders. I needed to take control of this situation. He couldn’t know how much he was unnerving me—it was a recipe for trouble. I couldn’t afford to show any kind of weakness. “You’re right, you don’t have a choice. Leave me alone or I’m calling the police. I don’t know where the hell you’re from, but stalking is illegal in New Hampshire.”

I spun around and walked away from him, straining to hear the sound of footsteps or any other indication that he was going to follow me. A couple years ago I never would have said those things to a complete stranger. But a couple years ago Kylie had yet to date the asshole who taught me what some men were capable of if you let them think they could get away with it. A couple years ago I had never taken out a restraining order.

Nathaniel didn’t make any move toward me as I left the cemetery. I locked my car doors and leaned back against the seat, letting out a breath. Hopefully he’d respect my demand that he back off and I’d never have to see him again.