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The gunshot hadn’t missed him. It’d hit him in his right shoulder and it hurt like hell. He was burning a lot of extra magic energy to hide the tear in his shirt and the blood.
    But he didn’t want her to know. It might make her feel bad to realize he’d been hurt defending her. Or, gods forbid, she might want him to seek medical help, which was the last thing he could do.
    Or even worse than that, she might feel nothing at all, and that would make him angry. Humans could have strange emotions that he didn’t quite fathom.
    â€œHave you worked at Sanctuary long?” she asked.
    â€œA little while.”
    That didn’t seem to quite placate her. “Do you go to school anywhere? Or do you just work full-time at the bar?”
    â€œI go to school.” It was a lie and he wasn’t even sure why he’d told it. Kyle Peltier—the youngest member of the Peltier bear clan—and a couple of the other waiters went to college, but Wren wasn’t the type to mingle enough with humans to bother.
    What he needed to know to survive had never been taught in a classroom.
    But for some reason he didn’t understand, he wanted to appear normal to her. He wanted her to think of him as just an average guy whom she might have met.
    Being different had never bothered him before, but tonight it did. It was really stupid. He was odd even in the Were-Hunter world. When it came to the human world … they would lock him in a cage if they ever learned of him.
    â€œWhich school?” she asked innocently.
    â€œUNO.” The University of New Orleans was always a safe bet. Two of the waiters, Tony and Mark, went there, and Wren had overheard them enough to be able to lie about classes, professors, and the campus if he needed to. Not to mention, she looked a little too upper-crust to go to a state school. She most likely attended Tulane or Loyola.
    She stopped and offered him a smile that made him instantly hard. “I’m Marguerite Goudeau, by the way.”
    Recognition hit him at the mention of her name. It was one he’d heard a lot in the past couple of years. “You’re Maggie, Nick’s study partner.”
    Marguerite smiled again. “I take it Nick must have mentioned me.”
    Yeah. Nick’d had a tremendous crush on her. He’d wanted to ask her out but never had. “She’s like Venus, and having met Venus a time or two, I know that no mere mortal man has a right to touch her.”
    Wren supposed that went for tigards as well. Nick had been right, there was something about Maggie that was very special.
    â€œHe said you were the most intelligent woman he’d ever known, but that you couldn’t study for shit.”
    She laughed. The sound was musical and soft, and it warmed him more than it should. “That sounds like Nick.”
    Marguerite cleared her throat as Wren pierced her with that intense stare of his. There was something so animalistic about him that it was almost frightening. She felt like someone in the jungle, cornered by a hungry beast.
    â€œSorry,” he said, dropping his stare back to the ground. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous again. I know people don’t like for me to look at them.”
    She frowned at his deadpan tone. Even so, she sensed that it hurt him. “I don’t mind.”
    â€œYes, you do. You’re just being polite.” He started back down the street.
    How did he know that? Most men were far from intuitive.
    Marguerite rushed to catch up to him. “Is the monkey I saw you in the bar with your pet?”
    He shook his head. “Marvin owns himself. He just likes to hang out with me.”
    She laughed at the sweetness of Wren’s words. “I’ve never met anyone who had a monkey for a friend before.”
    He snorted in disagreement. “I don’t know. I think those two guys you were with would qualify as primates, but then, that’s an insult to