Again.
The passion was gone, at least for him. He was looking at her now with intense eyes and a hard face.
Looking at her like she was a victim, dammit.
Not a woman.
Before, she’d been a woman with him.
Now—
Erin spun away from him. She ripped what was left of the sheet loose as she moved, using it to cover her body.
How could I have forgotten? I see the thing every day.
“Who marked you?” Fury there, boiling beneath the surface of his voice.
She rose from the bed, careful not to move too fast. Didn’t want it to look like she was running.
Even if she was.
Erin clenched her thighs, feeling a quiver in her sex.
So good. But good things didn’t last long in her life.
At least Jude hadn’t gone running from her, even when she’d used her claws and teeth.
“Who f**king marked you?”
She turned back to face him.
Jude jumped from the bed, naked and damn sexy still, and grabbed her arms.
The sheet slipped to the floor.
“That bastard did it, didn’t he? You said you’d never seen him, you said he hadn’t got close to you!”
Time for some truth. “I lied.”
At first, the wound had bled like a bitch. She’d left a trail of her blood on the street when she’d fled. But, lucky for her, she could heal without shifting. So her skin had mended, well, as close to mending as it could, and though her bleeding had stopped by the time she’d reached safety, she’d been left with his mark on her flesh. The wound had been too deep and long to heal perfectly.
“What happened?”
From wild sex back to business. Not the way she would have liked to spend the afterglow moments. Erin swallowed. “Not tonight, Jude, okay? I don’t want to talk about this now.” Not while her body still vibrated with the pleasure he’d given her. Not while she could still taste him.
Not while she could almost feel him inside.
She didn’t want to go back to that other night right then.
Not now.
He stared down at her, a muscle flexing along his jaw.
“Not tonight,” she repeated.
Silence. Then, when her heart was squeezing because she didn’t want to go back there, he gave a grim nod. “But we will talk about it, Erin. I’m working this case for you. I need to know everything that’s happened.”
She licked her lips. “Tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow.”
His hands dropped. She bent and scooped up the sheet. He’d go back to his room downstairs now, she’d go back to bed and try to sleep, try.
Erin brushed by him. “In the morning, we’ll talk.” A dismissal. Not sexy. Not subtle.
She’d never really been the subtle sort.
She climbed into the bed. Eased onto the mattress and tried not to notice the way his scent surrounded her.
“Scoot over, sweetheart.”
Her breath caught. “You’re not going downstairs?”
Jude shook his head. “Not the way things work. Not for me.”
He eased in beside her and wrapped his arms around her body.
Erin tensed.
“Relax. I’m just going to hold you. Hold you and sleep.”
Sounded good to her.
His right hand curved around her stomach. The fingers drifted lightly over her scar.
“Something you should know.” His voice was soft.
She waited.
“When I find him, I’m gonna kill him.”
If only the bastard out there were easy to kill. If he’d been easy prey, she would have killed him herself, long ago.
It took a while for Erin’s breathing to ease into the slow, natural rhythm of sleep.
Jude held her, keeping his hold nice and easy, and he waited.
And he choked back his rage.
The bastard marked her.
Close enough to mark. Close enough to kill.
Why the hell had Erin kept the truth from him?
She stirred in her sleep, moving lightly, and her nose rubbed against his neck.
In sleep, she was soft and beautiful. Delicate. A woman who needed protection.
In passion, she’d been something else. Oh, still beautiful. With her shining eyes and hungry lips, Erin had been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
But not delicate. Her hold on him had been too strong, too fierce. And her hunger had been as wild as his own.
The beast in him had been very, very hungry.
For her.
His c**k was still erect, still ready—because he wanted more. But when the ghost of fear had appeared in her eyes, he’d known the passion was over. For now.
He’d had her once. He’d have her again. And he’d make sure that fear never showed again.
Jude would stop the ass**le out there. No doubt.
The beast inside couldn’t wait to taste the blood.
The rain was falling again. Dripping through the broken glass.
Drip.
Drip.
The scent of gasoline was in the air. Thick, cloying gasoline, and the coppery stench of blood.
Drip.
Drip.
Erin stared at the mound of twisted metal. Her feet
crunched glass on the ground beneath her, but she didn’t feel any pain. “Hello?”
Thunder rumbled.
She wet her lips and inched forward. The broken car looked like hell. The roof had been smashed. The front four feet of the car had been crumbled to pretty much nothing by the tree.
The scent of blood grew stronger.
Shadows filled the interior of the car, but she knew someone was inside.
Living or dead?
Her hand reached out and touched the icy door handle. She yanked, but the thing wouldn’t open.
Someone was inside.
Blood.
Another hard pull, this time, with both hands.
Nothing.
Her palms were wet, from the rain, from her own sweat.
She should get help.
Yeah, yeah, that was a good idea, she’d go, get help.
Erin stepped back, almost falling in the slick mud.
She’d find help, then she’d come back as fast as she could.
Turning, she ran for the—
“D-don’t…l-leave…m-me…”
The voice stopped her cold.
“P-please…”
Erin woke, breath heaving.
“D-don’t…l-leave…m-me…”
The voice echoed in her head, and, dammit, it was a voice she knew.
“Erin?” Jude’s growl. Sleep-roughened and deep. “Sweetheart, you must’ve had a bad dream.”
If only.
Never that simple for her.
Death dreams. The only thing, other than her black hair, that she’d gotten from her father.
She’d had her first one when she was twelve years old. Her mother had told her it was just a nightmare, nothing to worry about.