“It’s not bad,” I agreed. “Pretty damn good, actually.”

“Are you worried?”

“Yes,” I said. “Are you?”

He paused thoughtfully. “No. I’m anticipating, and I’m ready for a fight. I’m ready to resolve two issues that are hurting you, hurting us. But I’m not worried about the result. Because one way or the other, they won’t get their hands on you.”

He kissed my temple. “Sleep. The rest is for tomorrow.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’m glad you’re here, with me, in my house, in my bed.”

As light fell across the city, I fell into sleep, safe in his arms.

TWENTY-TWO

Something hit me in the face, and I jumped awake, brushed at the wings of the dragon I was sure had come to gnaw my bones.

And found a sports bra in my hand.

Blinking, I looked up, found Connor in the doorway in shorts, running shoes, and nothing else. “Come on. We’re going for a run.”

I pulled the hair from my face. “Why would we do that?”

He walked to the window, opened the heavy blackout drapes so moonlight shone through. “Because it’s fun?”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.”

He grinned. “No, Lis. I think we’ve proven that’s not true.”

He had me there. And several other ways.

“This will be good for you. You can run off the nerves, and you’ll be ready for what comes next.”

Right. I checked the clock. Sixish hours to go.

“Have they found Levi?” I asked.

“Nothing yet,” he said. “They’re looking.”

I plucked up my screen, checked my messages. “Nicole has arrived. We’re confirmed for midnight. No messages from Levi.”

“He may not send one.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “But maybe I should poke the bear.” I typed a draft, showed it to Connor. “A response to his last message.”

“‘You can’t be my enemy if I don’t care about you. Life goes on and I’m with a real man.’” He handed the screen back. “Immature and guaranteed to piss him off.”

“Enough to have him come for both of us tonight?”

“Possibly.”

“That’s all I need,” I said and sent it.

“If he comes at you, how’s the shoulder?”

I rolled it. “Only twingey.”

Connor nodded his approval. “If you’re a good vampire, there’s a spinach smoothie waiting at the end of our run.”

I narrowed my eyes as I took him in from the gorgeous planes of his face to the planes of his abdomen. “Is that how you look like that? Spinach smoothies?”

He lifted a brow, put his hands on his hips, tapped the diagonal muscles at the edge of his hips. “Like this?” he asked, but there was no modesty in the tone.

“I figured it was just magic.”

He snorted. “Magic doesn’t hurt. But no, it’s work. You train plenty; so do I. So let’s get to it. Be down in five.”

“Who’s the bossy one now?”

“The prince, of course.” Then winked before closing the door again.

“Be down in five,” I mimicked and threw my legs over the side of the bed.

“I heard that,” he called out.

Damned shifter hearing.

* * *

* * *

Because he was right, and I did need to burn off some energy, I got dressed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and met him in the kitchen.

He glanced up, gaze taking in the sports bra and running shorts I’d donned, and the skin left bare against the late summer heat. “On second thought,” he said, voice gravelly, “maybe we should make other plans.”

“Your plan was just fine,” I said.

He looked me over again. “It definitely has its upside.”

“Mm-hmm. Why you stalling? Are you nervous about running against a vampire with super strength and super speed?”

He snorted. “Bring it, dead girl.”

Can and will, I thought, and smiled.

“Two legs or four?” he asked.

“Two,” I said.

“In that case . . .” He pushed off, ran down the hallway toward the front door.

“Damn it,” I said and followed him.

We were both snort-laughing by the time we got to the door and were through it, made it down the steps and to the sidewalk. The air smelled of rain, but the sidewalks were still dry. It hadn’t come yet, but it would. The storm would break, and carry away the last of summer, the dregs of heat and dust, and escort in the chill of fall.

We reached the street and both paused for a sobering moment, to check for magic and enemies, to see if they’d found the town house, found us. But the night was quiet, the few sounds made by humans. Most were inside, waiting for the rain to fall.

But not us. Not when the night was here for the taking, and we had freedom left to spend.

“Go,” I said and took off in front of him.

I heard him curse and push off behind me, catch up in seconds. We both ran hard, not yet full-out, but enough to challenge each other. Down one dark street, turning the corner, and sprinting down the dark sidewalk, laughing even as we breathed harder, pushed harder. He began to outpace me—his damned legs were longer, and he was literally built for running, at least in wolf form—so I accelerated, and nearly beat him to the entrance of a small park at the end of the street.

Nearly.

He slapped the wooden sign first, then looked back at me, grinned in victory.

Chest heaving, I grinned back. Both of us had hands on our hips, bodies gleaming with exertion under the rising moon.

There was joy, utter and sheer joy, in his eyes. “You don’t just run. You love running,” I said.

“Shifter,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “Running is life. Running is Pack. It’s prey and escape and companionship. There’s very little shifters love more.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Well, obviously we also love that. Immensely.” He looked around at the park. Mums bloomed on the pathway; frogs croaked in the darkness nearby. “I run here from NAC headquarters. It’s a longer route than from the town house, but it’s quiet, peaceful.”

A frog let out an enormous croak.

“Mostly quiet and peaceful,” he amended, and looked back at me, smiled.

“Why not run as a shifter?”

“Because humans tend not to like seeing a wolf run past their windows. They think we’re going to eat their corgis.”

I looked at him, considered. “How many times have you had to shift naked in front of animal control?”

He grinned. “Twice before I learned my lesson.”

He’d wanted to run to help me settle my nerves. But not just that, I realized. If all failed tonight, if we were hurt or separated, we’d still have had this moment together.

“Thank you.”

Connor nodded, brushed a finger along my cheek. “You’re welcome.” Then he rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms. “Back to the town house?”

“I’ve got a little more in me,” I said, and the monster pinged me with interest. I glanced at Connor. “You want to race the monster?”

That he looked at me with competitive interest, not fear or terror, made me fall a little deeper. “Really?”

I felt its earnest agreement. “Yup. It thinks it can take you.”

He snorted, all cockiness.

* * *

* * *

This time, I beat him to the door.

I turned back, breath huffing, and grinned victoriously.

He climbed one step, which put us nearly eye to eye. “You’re fast. The monster is fast. But I’d have beaten you on four legs.” He kissed me, quick and hard. “Spinach time.”

It took me a minute to comprehend the offer. Smoothies. “That’s not the way you woo a girl into your house, into your bed,” I said, and we walked inside.

Connor froze halfway across the foyer, looked back at me, gaze narrowed. “I thought you were asleep when I said that.”

“I know.” I grinned and walked past him. “Vampire hearing’s pretty good, too.”

“Freaking vampires,” he said and followed me into the kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator, but closed it quickly. And then looked at me. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear tonight, but I have bad news.”

“In the refrigerator? What is it?”

“The sourdough starter . . . is dead.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

He put a hand over his heart and looked up at the ceiling, gaze vacant and thoughtful. “It died an honorable death, and we mourn its loss.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Damn it, Connor. Did Alexei eat the starter?”

He pulled out the empty jar, held it up. “I suspect he did.”

Honestly, directing shifters not to eat my homemade bread prep work wasn’t something I’d thought I’d ever have to say. “Is he nursing the mother of all stomachaches?”

As if on cue, Alexei padded into the kitchen, this time in gym shorts. He nodded at us, pulled a gallon of milk from the refrigerator, and disappeared again.

“Probably,” Connor concluded.

I looked back at him. “Shifters eat a lot.”

Connor’s look was bone-dry. “You eat people.”

“Only in a manner of speaking.” I let my grin go wicked. “And only if they ask nicely.”

He moved forward, caught me with an arm around the waist. “Oh, I’ll ask nicely.”

I smiled. “Thanks for making me laugh.”

“Feeling better?”

“I’m . . . ready,” I decided. “Ready to end both very uncomfortable chapters of my life.” I looked back at him. “There will be more than this. Probably worse than this.”

“My cousin’s friends tried to kill you.”