Nesta Archeron tucked her chin close to her collarbone as she walked down the avenue, the buzzing street lights above her giving the night an eerie feel. There was only four more blocks left until she got to the hotel where she'd be safe from the men who lurked the streets at this hour. She'd gone out nearly three hours ago, first for dinner, then to find a suitable wedding present for Feyre, who was to be married in a week. She still had yet to meet her sister's fiance, and wasn't exactly keen on going to their wedding, but she had promised both her sisters as children that she would attend their weddings if they invited her.

She was still surprised Feyre had invited her.

She never found a good wedding present.

Nesta tried to make herself smaller when she heard a door open across the street and a car passed by, going far below the speed limit. She let out a breath when it moved on, seeming to stroll leisurely down the empty street.

It was when it circled again that she gripped the pistol tucked into a hidden pocket of her dress. A window rolled down, the car easing towards the sidewalk. She kept her eyes on the ground, stepping as close to the stone building beside her as she could.

There was a suggestive whistle, a man leaning out of the car, and a stupid, suggestive grin on his face. He reached out, slurring something incomprehensible, and Nesta skittered away.

The man cursed at her, telling whoever was driving to stop the car. The door opened a moment later.

She walked faster, wondering if she should be reaching for her gun.

But when she made to, there was a gentle hand on her wrist, stopping her. She froze, unable to look at the other male standing beside her as he turned them towards the other man. His deep voice easily filled the street. "You don't want to do that, buddy."

The drunk man blinked, seeming to sober up for a moment. He mumbled something then slid sloppily back into the car. It drove off a moment later.

Nesta yanked herself away from the stranger who still held her, ducking her head again and wondering if she'd only traded a drunk for something worse. "Thank you," she said, making to continue her walk.

But when he spoke, the grin she heard set her attention on fire. "Chin up, princess, you look like prey."

Her spine snapped straight.

He looked like predator.

She reached for her gun again. "I don't want trouble."

"But you'll make it if you need to, right?" he asked, stepping forward. She could see him fully now that he was positioned under the yellow streetlight. He was handsome-damnably so. His shoulder length hair was tied back into a bun haphazardly, eyes a molten metal hazel. His brows were dark and strong, jaw and cheekbones sharp and defined, the former dusted lightly in hair. His lips, she saw now, were full, parted in a grin full enough that she could see his canines looked more menacing than they should have. He wore a soil-brown, long-sleeved shirt that fit closely enough she could tell he didn't lack any manliness. His long legs were clad in dirty jeans, not ripped though. He boots, that might have once been black and shiny, were splattered in mud and dipped in age.

He reminded her of the earth, of windy days, stirring soil, and roaring fire. That-that was what he was. Fire made flesh.

He offered her a hand. "My name is Cassian, and no, I do not plan to whisk you away into my torture chamber, however tempting it may be." He winked.

She didn't shake his hand. Didn't tell him her name.

His grin widened. "Good, at least you have a sense of danger. Where are you going?"

"None of your business," she said coldly, her voice low.

"If you don't tell me, I'll follow you anyway. You shouldn't be out this late alone and with no protection besides a gun with an empty magazine."

She blinked. How did he know that it was empty?

"Then what are you doing out?" she asked, snapping up wall after wall of defense between them, stepping back to make enough figurative space.

He ran his tongue over his teeth. "I'm just another one of the monsters that lurks in the night."

She snorted, turning back around and marching down the street. Cassian followed her almost doggedly. "What's your name?"

"Fire, step too close and you'll get burned," she recited, from a short story she had written in eighth grade.

"Well, Fire, let me walk you back, I'm heading that way anyway."

"Leave me alone," she hissed.

"No can do, sweetheart. You going to the Marriott?"

"Don't call me that."

"So you are going to the Marriott."

She huffed, continuing her marching. Another car drove by, windows down, this one faster than the previous one. That was the only reason she allowed Cassian to follow her, the only reason she didn't deny her location.

When she got to the hotel, she turned back to him. "You may leave now."

"No 'thank you'? That's awfully cold for Fire." His cocky grin was still there, taunting enough that she was tempted to slap it right off.

"You may leave now," she repeated.

He clicked his tongue. "Not gonna happen, sweetheart, I'm staying here too."

She growled, shoving open the doors. Warm air greeted her pleasantly, the lobby welcoming and light in contrast to the street.

He spoke up again. "You should have told me you were this pretty out there, then I might have socked that guy in the jaw for you."

She ignored him, grabbing a mint from the counter and popping it into her mouth as she went to the elevators. When he went in the same one with her, she pushed herself into the opposite corner. "Get out. There are three other elevators."

"What? Scared I'll get naughty and make out with you against the wall?"

She didn't blush. Stared at him in a way that usually made her sisters leave the room.

"Damn," he murmured, lips twitching again, as if he thought her amusing. "What floor?"

The doors closed, Nesta debated darting for them. But that would make her look weak, make her look skittish and vulnerable.

"Four," she said through her teeth.

He pressed the button, then pressed one close to the top. So high, her stomach clenched at the thought of looking through a window up there.

"So, what are you out here for?" Cassian asked innocently.

"That's none of your business." She looked sharply at him as the doors opened again. She said as she strode passed, "I appreciate what you did, but never grace me with your presence again."

He whistled. "That's a lot of poison for a viper, be careful not to choke."

The doors closed behind her, cutting her off from him.

But through the night, his hooded hazel eyes haunted her every dream.