Terror gripped her again, the sort of fear she’d thought beyond her reach. She whimpered and scrambled back until she hit the corner, forgetting that her fear only aroused him. “N-no, you can’t. No one’s supposed to—to do that—”
“Right,” he whispered, kicking off his shoes. “Until he had your sister. And now…he does.” Pierce lowered his hands to his pants.
“No. No.” The frantic, hysterical words sounded far away, and she wondered if they’d finally succeeded in breaking her. I’m scared he’s going to turn me into a werewolf . I am so far past broken…
The door exploded in a shower of splintered wood. A man stepped inside and quickly surveyed the room, a pistol in his lowered hand.
Her attacker spun with a confused noise. Before he could say anything, the man raised his arm and shot him twice in the chest, hesitated for a moment, and fired another round at his head.
Brynn watched as time slowed to a crawl. Pierce hit his knees and toppled over. There was blood everywhere, blood and things that were a lot more disturbing than blood, things she couldn’t think about too closely. Her civilized brain recoiled in horror, but what was left was intense satisfaction. Glee, and a tiny bit of regret that Pierce hadn’t suffered more, hadn’t faced death and been forced to stew in it until it made him ill.
The man at the door stepped forward, and the world snapped back into painful, blinding clarity. He held a finger over his lips and knelt to search through Pierce’s pockets. “My name is Joe. Your sister brought me.”
She tried to think back to what Abby had said. Had there been something about friends? Everything was distorted by that numb detachment she’d cultivated, her only defense against the taunts and threats.
“Joe.” Her lips formed the name, and it felt oddly familiar. She studied his face, the firm, handsome features, the short, messy dark hair and the hazel eyes that were somehow fierce and gentle at the same time. “Joe, you’re here…”
He lifted a hand to her cheek. “I told you I’d be here if you needed me.”
He had. He’d promised, after he’d saved her from Alan Matthews, that he’d never let anyone hurt her again. Except he couldn’t have promised her that, because he was rescuing her now—
Her brain stumbled over the logical inconsistencies and came to the proper conclusion: this was a dream. Hard on the heels of that realization came a second one—that Joe’s hand was warm against her skin and his fingers felt so, so perfect as he stroked her tangled hair back from her face.
Lucidity slipped through her fingers again as she launched herself into his arms with a relieved noise.
He caught her with a soft growl and nuzzled her ear as his arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer.
His nose grazed her cheek and his mouth landed on hers, demanding and coaxing at the same time. It had to be the first time he’d kissed her, because she never would have forgotten the way her body melted as his tongue urged her lips apart.
But if it was the first time, how could he know everything to do, everything that would make her body come to life? He kissed her within an inch of her sanity, hands roaming her back and hips, finally drifting down to cup her ass and lift her closer.
Warm hands skated over skin as clothing disappeared, but it was the incongruity of being lowered to a soft mattress that tripped her brain this time. Some part of her whimpered in protest as the dream unraveled, dissolving even as she clung desperately to it.
She woke up in Joe’s bedroom—in Joe’s bed, flushed and confused and breathing too fast. A floorboard creaked and she bolted upright, her gaze landing on Joe. He hovered just inside the room, his fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. Oh dear God, please don’t let me talk in my sleep…
He stared at her in silence for a moment and tilted his head. “Nightmare?”
“Sort of.” She dropped back to the pillow and covered her face with her hands. “Started out that way.
But hey, it went away on its own, so that’s a sign of progress, right?” She couldn’t stop the words from tumbling over her tongue, though she knew her nervous babbling was anything but subtle.
“Want me to sit with you for a while?”
She almost told him no, but it would have been a lie. A stupid, pointless lie. Her subconscious, at least, had already decided who made her feel safe, and there was no use fighting it. “That’d be nice, if you don’t mind.”
He walked in. She could hear the television playing softly in the living room as Joe sat on the edge of the bed. “That guy again? Pierce?”
“Yeah.” Joe had saved her, that much of the dream had held truth. But there had been no romance, no joy, just gut-wrenching shock as blood spattered her clothing and Pierce slumped to the floor with half his face missing.
That was the last thing she remembered. On the rare occasion she tried to think back, all she could come up with was the vague impression of Joe’s arms around her and the sound of explosions. The next clear memory she had was of being in a motel in Red Rock, cradled against Joe’s chest as a doctor tended to Abby’s wounds.
Brynn dropped her hands to the bed and met Joe’s eyes. “I don’t really remember it. What happened, I mean, after you shot him. Some of the stuff up to that point’s a little blurry, but after that… It’s like a big blank nothing.”
“Good.” He scooted closer. “Sometimes, your brain figures that’s for the best.”
“Yeah?” She closed her eyes and rubbed lightly at the side of her head. “Well, tell my brain it’s creepy and to stop trying to make up things that happened next.”
His hand brushed her leg. “What does it make up?”
“Usually some fairly awful stuff.” She managed a half smile and moved her hand to rest over his.
“You were very heroic tonight, though. Even more so than usual.”
Joe grinned wickedly as he turned his hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. “I must have been.
You sounded like you were having fun.”
Of course he could tell. There was no privacy in a town full of werewolves. Maybe she should have blushed, but she was too busy being relieved by the fact that he didn’t seem to mind. Yes, because what you need right now, in the middle of everything, is a crush.
Or maybe it was exactly what she needed, if only to keep her from drowning in futile misery. She tightened her fingers and tugged slightly. “It’s rude to use your werewolf superpowers against me, you know. Or rude to admit it.”
“Rude, maybe.” He reached up with his free hand and brushed her hair back. “But I just wanted to see you smile.”
“It’s nice to smile.” Weird, maybe, but her lips curved up. “It’s been a couple weeks since there was much to smile about.”
“Still not much,” he admitted. “But sometimes it’s all you can do.”
She let her thumb play over his fingers as she watched his face. “So if I go through with this, and if I ask Cindy to be my Guide…” She hesitated, then ignored her nervousness and pushed on. “Are there rules about me not getting involved with other people?”
He stared at her for a long moment before answering. “Usually, if a Guide and an Initiate don’t plan on getting intimate or there’s someone else in the picture, they forego the bonding. It’s easier that way, if they can get away with it. So no, nothing to keep you from seeing someone else.”
“Okay. Good.” Sitting brought her so close that she had to tilt back her head to look at him. She didn’t release his hand, just kept her fingers around his as she went for broke. “Because I was thinking…getting involved with someone is a crappy idea right now, but I’m sort of miserable, and you’re sort of hot. I wouldn’t say no to a little bit of irresponsible sex in between lessons in defending myself, if you were willing.”
He didn’t react as though her words surprised him. Instead, his hand tensed under hers. “Brynn, you’ve been through a ton of shit here recently. I’m not going to say that you don’t make a very good point, but I don’t know if I’m the guy for this. I really don’t.”
It was supposed to be casual, so the fact that it hurt to be rejected, even gently and obliquely, surprised her. The question escaped before she realized she’d spoken. “Why?”
“Because.” He kissed her fingers, his breath blowing hot over her skin. “I’m already past irresponsible sex here.”
“Oh.” She swallowed and fought the urge to shift closer. Careful, Brynn. Careful. She liked Joe. She liked Joe a lot, in ways that weren’t casual at all. But she couldn’t tell for sure, not when her life was tumbling end over end. Brynn had spent the last seven years carefully planning everything, researching all possible outcomes and taking action only when she was confident she’d made the right decision.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something just because it felt right. Because it would be fun. Probably the last time I did something stupid and had to watch Abby clean up after it. Would Abby be cleaning up after this mess?
And do I care?
He leaned closer and feathered his lips over her cheek. “Good night, Brynn.” There was no time left.
He’d get up and walk out if she didn’t stop him.
So she blurted out, “I already like you way too much.” The words sounded so much stupider out loud than they had in her mind, so she turned her head and caught his lips in an off-center, awkward kiss.
His lips were warm and soft against the corner of her mouth. He slid them over hers, quick and gentle, in a kiss that cajoled rather than dominated. It was nothing like the hip-grinding, tongue-tangling kiss of her dream, but it set her heart to racing just the same.
His hand crept up her arm and slipped around the back of her neck, drawing her closer. He held himself rigidly, almost trembling, as he eased past her lips and touched her tongue with his.
A moan rose in Brynn’s throat, and her patience broke. She lifted her hands to the back of his head and whimpered as she curled her tongue around his. Joe growled in answer and kissed her harder, his teeth scoring her lip.