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They were definitely casing the place. But was it a basic status report or something more?
Zeven skirted the neighbor’s house, silently stalking the strange car. Maybe he was wrong, and it was just a neighbor coming home? But it felt far more deadly. The sedan turned the corner, and between the houses, he watched the vehicle draw to a stop.
He slipped up to the charger and grabbed several tools. He pulled on his dual shoulder holster as he moved. The weight of the guns was comforting. Would Harley listen? He’d left her the Beretta, but would she use it if needed? Did she even have any training with firearms? He hadn’t taken the time to ask.
He eased around the building but as the black sedan came into view its engine came to life and it slowly drove away. Had he imagined the threat? Had the car just been in the neighborhood? He hadn’t expected professional company so soon. In all his years of killing, very few had the balls to check up on him or to interfere in any way, but what if this was one of those times?
He returned to Harley’s house while doubts continued to nag at him. Before he could knock on the door, she threw it open and jumped into his arms. As good as she felt he still set her back so that they could both be safely inside the house.
Harley wrapped her arms around herself to stop the trembling. She’d seen his panicked run around the house. Only a real threat would make him react that way, wouldn’t it? “What was it? What did you see?” Somehow, despite the contract on her life, she’d begun to feel safe here with Zeven watching over her, but in the space of a heartbeat all that was lost. Once again, she felt trapped and helpless in her own home, a victim of powers beyond her control.
“It was nothing.” His face was hard and almost blank of expression, but for one second there had been a flash of worry.
“You’re not sure of that. Yet, you still won’t let me escape, will you?”
“No.”
“Fine.” She started to spin away, but he grabbed her arm, dragging her back against his hard body. The contact was immediate and arousing, but she wasn’t ready to play that game again. She threw all her weight into a hit to his elbow, breaking his hold and rolling out to give herself space. “Tell me the truth or don’t reach for me at all.”
“I’ll keep you safe. That is the truth.”
“That isn’t enough.” Couldn’t he understand that? No, he probably couldn’t. Harley hesitated for a second, not wanting to leave Zeven but needing to run, to put space between her and those who would see her dead. He didn’t trust her to be involved in her own survival and that wasn’t acceptable.
He must have seen her intentions and known she was about to bolt. Almost in slow motion he walked toward her, his every step filled with resolve.
She took a step back then another. There was no way she could outrun him, but maybe with a head start maybe then she could reach her bike. And if she could reach her motorcycle she was as good as gone. The kitchen was to her back. That was the direction she would run. But first for that head start, she grabbed the corner of a half full book stand, jerking it with all her strength, spilling the contents and shelving across between her and Zeven.
Then she ran, racing for the door. Her fingers landed on the handle, turning, pulling. She was through, still afraid to look back. She ran down the steps and turned the corner. Raced for the back door of the garage where her bike waited.
But she only made it as far as the grass by the garage when she was tackled from behind. The weight threw her forward, crushing her into the lawn. Her breath blew out in a whoosh. She hadn’t made it.
“Let me go. I’ll scream!”
“No, you won’t make a sound.” Zeven turned her over onto her back. The look in his eyes was something she’d never seen before. It was all hardness, a cruelty that hadn’t been part of him ten years ago. “You won’t scream because you know I’ll do whatever it takes to get my way, even if it means hurting people who have nothing to do with what is happening to you.”
And she saw it then, the truth in his eyes. Zeven really was different now. As strong and dangerous as he had been before, now he was so much more. He might have been born a predator but now… The look in his eyes said clearly that he’d slaughter her neighbors if she called out for their aid. The man she’d met in the desert hadn’t been capable of that kind of violence. She’d been sure of that then and until this moment she’d thought he was mostly the same kind of man.
“You’d kill them? What kind of monster have you become?”
He didn’t bother to answer, just grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. Without letting go of her he adjusted his grip, letting his fingers tangle through hers. For the rest of the world, they must have looked like two lovers walking in the yard and she supposed that was at least partially true. They’d been lovers so long ago and once again in the past hour.
Once they returned to the kitchen and he’d closed and locked the patio doors, he turned on her. His eyes flashed angrily. “What were you thinking?”
He still didn’t get it and she wasn’t sure anything she said to him would get through his thick skull. It was more than just being here and having people or werewolves out to kill her. This was about being in control of her future, about having some kind of say over her survival. “I can’t give up everything to you. Not everything. I need to be the one in control of my life.”
“Dammit Harley. Just trust me to keep you safe.”
“Even if I wanted to, I can’t do that.” She sighed at his puzzled look. “I know you can probably keep me safe, but I have to be part of my own protection. I can’t be left out of the loop even on little things. When something happens, I need to be aware if I’m going to keep myself alive.”
With an almost imperceptible nod, he let go of her and backed away to lean against the counter. “You ran because I told you it was fine, and you knew it wasn’t.”
“Yes.” She felt the tension fading. Maybe he did get it.
“I think I understand. Let’s move away from these damn glass doors and I will tell you what I saw.” He waved toward the living room but waited for her to go ahead of him.
She smothered the urge to smile at his grudging agreement. Instead, she left the kitchen behind for the clutter of the living room. “Sorry about the books.” She started to clean up the books in question while waiting for him to do a quick sweep of the room and settle on the sofa.
“No problem.” He was being way too compliant, even helping to stack books beside the sofa. Then he raised the gun he’d left for her and checked the weapon over.
