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"Yes, and I apologize for it, but what better way to keep Carrie from working on the mystery than to put her boyfriend in jail."
"I'm not her boyfriend anymore," he said.
I hurried past that little bit of knowledge. "Is it common knowledge that you're not an item anymore?"
"Not really."
"Then that may explain why they wanted you in jail. They framed you for rape because so far, Wilkes isn't willing to kill."
"You think that will change?" Richard asked.
I touched my swollen lip. "He's already started upping the violence level."
Richard leaned across the bed until his fingertips touched the bruises on my face. It was a tentative touch like a butterfly's wing. "Did Wilkes do this?"
My heart was suddenly beating faster. "No," I said, "Wilkes was very careful to only show up after all the bad guys needed an ambulance."
Richard smiled, fingers tracing the edge of my face, just beyond the bruises. "How many of them did you hurt?"
My pulse was beating so hard, I was afraid he could see it jumping in my throat. "Just one."
Richard scooted just a little closer to me, hand still trailing up and down my cheek. "What did you do to him?"
I didn't know whether to move away or cuddle my aching face against the cool warmth of his hand. "I broke his arm and leg at the joint."
"Why did you do that?" Richard asked.
"He was threatening Shang-Da, and he pulled a knife on me." My voice sounded breathy.
Richard leaned in close, then closer. He pulled the ridiculous towel from his head, and his thick hair fell in chilled, wet strands around his face, against my skin. His lips were so close to my mouth, I could feel his breath.
I stood, stepping back from him, the comforter still bundled in my arms. I let it fall to the floor, and we stared at each other.
"Why not, Anita? You want me. I can feel it, smell it, taste your pulse on my tongue."
"Thanks for that visual, Richard."
"You still want me after months in his bed. You still want me."
"That doesn't make it right." I said.
"Loyal to Jean-Claude now?" he asked.
"Just trying not to f**k up any worse than I already have, Richard. That's all."
"Regretting your choice?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No comment."
He stood and started towards me. I put a hand out, and he stopped. The weight of his gaze was almost touchable, as if I could feel what he was thinking, and it was personal and intimate, and things we'd never done before.
"Sheriff Wilkes says get out of Dodge by dark tomorrow, take our bodyguards with us, and he'll just forget everything. The rape charges will vanish, and you can go back to your normal life."
"I can't do that, Anita. They're talking about hunting the trolls down with guns and dogs. I'm not leaving until I know the trolls are safe."
I sighed. "School starts in less than two weeks. Are you going to stay here and lose your job?"
"Do you really think Wilkes will let it go that long?" Richard asked.
"No," I said. "I think he or some of his men will start killing people first. We need to find out why this land is so valuable."
"If it's minerals, Greene hasn't filed the report, which means he doesn't need government permission and doesn't need partners."
"What do you mean permission and partners?"
"If he'd found, say, emeralds on land that bordered the national park, then he'd have to file the claim and try to get permission to place a mine next to the park. If he'd found something that needed blasting and hard mining like maybe lead or something, then he might need partners to help him finance it. Then he'd need to file a claim to show the prospective partners."
"When did you start studying geology?" I asked.
He smiled. "We've been trying to figure out what is on the land that is worth this much trouble. Minerals seemed the logical choice."
I nodded. "Agreed, but either it's not minerals or it's something private, and he doesn't have to share that info, right?"
"Exactly."
"I need to speak with Carrie and the other biologists," I said.
"Tomorrow," he said.
"Why not tonight?"
"You said it outside: arcane werewolf shit."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"It means that we're four nights from the full moon, and you're my lupa."
"I heard you've been taking applicants for the job," I said.
He smiled, and it wasn't nearly embarrassed enough. "You may find it strange, but a lot of women find me attractive."
"You know I don't find that strange," I said.
"But you're still with Jean-Claude," he said.
I shook my head. "I'm out of here, Richard. I'll stay around and try to keep you from being killed or getting any of our pack killed, but let's drop the personal stuff."
He closed the distance between us, and I put my hands up to keep him from touching me. My hands ended up pressed to his bare chest. His heart thudded against my hands like a trapped animal.
"Don't do this, Richard."
"I tried hating you, and I can't." He put his hands over mine, holding them against the hard smoothness of his chest.
"Try harder." But it was a whisper.
He leaned over me, and I drew back. "If you don't dry your hair, you're going to have to wet it down again."
"I'll risk it." He kept moving towards me, lips half parted.
I stepped back, pulling my hands out of his, and he let me. He was strong enough that he didn't have to let me, and that still bothered me.
I backed towards the door. "Stop trying to love me, Richard."
"I have tried."
"Then stop trying and just do it." The door was pressed against my back. I grabbed the doorknob without turning around.
"You ran from me that night. You ran from me to Jean-Claude. You pulled his body around you like a shield to keep me away."
I opened the door, but he was just suddenly there, holding it half-closed. I started tugging on the door, and it was like pulling against a wall, immobile. His one hand pressed flat on the door, against the pull of my entire body, and I couldn't budge him. I hated that a lot.
"Damn it, Richard, let me go."
"I think you're more afraid of how much you love me than you are of Jean-Claude. At least with him you know you're not in love."
That was it. I wedged my body in the door enough so he couldn't close it on me, but I stopped tugging on it. I looked up at him, at every gorgeous inch of him. "I may not love Jean-Claude in the same way I love you."
He smiled.
"Don't get cocky," I said. "I do love Jean-Claude. But love isn't enough, Richard. If love were enough, I wouldn't be with Jean-Claude now. I'd be with you." I looked into his big, brown eyes and said, "But I'm not with you, and love isn't enough. Now, get away from this damned door."
He stepped back, hands at his side. "Love can be enough, Anita."
I shook my head and stepped out on the steps. The darkness was thick and touchable but not yet solid. "The last time you listened to me, you killed for the first time, and you haven't recovered from it. I should have just shot Marcus for you."
"I'd have never forgiven you for that," he said.
I gave a harsh sound that was almost a laugh. "But at least you wouldn't be hating yourself. I'd be the monster, not you."
His handsome face was suddenly very solemn; all the light fled from it. "Whatever I do, wherever I go, Anita, I am the monster. You left me because of what I am."
I stepped down onto the ground, staring up at him. There was no light inside the cabin, and Richard stood in a darker shadow than the coming night. "I thought you said I left you because I was afraid of how much I loved you."
He looked confused for a second, not knowing how to deal with his own logic thrown back into his face. He finally looked at me. "Do you know why you left me?"
I wanted to say, "Because you ate Marcus," but I didn't. I couldn't say it staring into his face, so ready to believe the worst of himself. He wasn't my problem anymore, so why did I care how hurt his ego was? Good question. I was out of good answers. Besides, maybe there was some truth to what Richard was saying. I didn't know anymore.
"I'm going to go to my cabin, now, Richard. I don't want to talk about this anymore."
