time to register before her feet slipped out from beneath her, unable to find traction on the damp grass. Tabitha’s eyes rounded, and she gasped. Her heart stopped as the world tilted. Then she hit the ground, and all the air rushed out of her lungs, stunning her, leaving her unable to breathe.
She lay there staring up at the sky, remaining entirely still, and she’d swear that there were little stars dancing above her.
Is this really how it ends for me? Killed by a three-foot fall into grass?
Her body jolted as the shock wore off, and she took in a deep, gasping breath, filling her lungs with sweet, sweet air. She clutched a hand to her chest, just to confirm that her heart was beating, and she was still alive.
“That dog is going to be the death me of,” she whispered.
Get up, Tabby. How much more mortified will you be if Logan comes out right now and sees you like this?
With a grunt, Tabitha rolled onto her hands and knees, brushed a hand on her pants, and ran her finger through her hair to tug it back from her face. She carefully got to her feet, wiping clingy blades of grass off her jeans. The denim covering her ass was wet, and her shirt clung to her back. The slight breeze blowing against it made a shiver course through her. Tugging on the hem of her shirt, she unpeeled the damp fabric from her skin.
“I’ll just have to do that one more time,” she said with a cringe. “And hopefully not break my neck in the process.”
Tabitha turned toward Logan’s patio—toward the dog blissfully curled up on a cushy chair.
Dexter was so grounded. No treats for at least a month. It didn’t matter how many puppy-eyed looks he gave her.
She hurried across the lawn to the house, pressing up against the siding. Dexter looked at her and tilted his head. His tail wagged.
She pursed her lips, giving him a narrow-eyed glare.
You are in trouble, she mouthed.
He just licked his chops.
She checked the window next to her; it was thankfully closed and covered by blinds. She ducked beneath it to be safe, and only as she was creeping closer to Dexter did she realize the sliding glass door ahead was open, with only the screen closed. Logan’s baritone voice was coming from inside, along with another unfamiliar voice.
Damn it.
Feeling like the nosiest neighbor in history, Tabitha listened to the muffled conversation. At first, she wondered if it was simply a matter of poor acoustics making it difficult to decipher their words, but she soon understood that they weren’t speaking English at all. It was a foreign language unlike anything she’d ever heard. There was a lyrical quality to it, but some of the words bore harsh edges that kept the language from being wholly musical.
Still, she couldn’t help herself. She was brimming with curiosity. Brows creased, Tabitha eased closer to the door and peered inside. Her eyes widened.
The interior lights were off, and with the curtains drawn it was relatively dark within—which only made the glowing hologram stand out even more. The image was reminiscent of an old sci-fi movie redone in high definition—a man’s disembodied head and shoulders in 3D, projected from Logan’s coffee table. The man was wearing some sort of strange uniform she didn’t recognize, and the tips of his ears tapered into points that would’ve put Legolas to shame. His eyes were glowing amber.
That alone wasn’t so crazy. Maybe…maybe Logan was just a technophile or something, into really cutting-edge technology. Maybe he was playing a game. The latest in in-home 3D entertainment.
But then Tabitha’s gaze shifted to Logan, who was seated on the couch in front of the hologram. He had been sitting back against the cushions, face tipped toward the ceiling, but as she watched, he leaned forward. He was shirtless, his sculpted muscles on full display, though she wasn’t really able to ogle them like she would’ve liked. Because there were strange, tribal-like tattoos on his arms—glowing tattoos.
Okay, so…maybe he likes to wear glow-in-the-dark body paint while he’s hanging out at home?
She caught a glimpse of his eyes and immediately understood that he was not wearing glowing body paint. His eyes were an even more intense blue than before, and they were putting out their own light, perfectly matching the color of the markings on his arms.
And his ears were pointed, just like the man in the hologram—though Logan’s were adorned with a few gleaming