Forever The World of Nightwalkers - By Jacquelyn Frank Page 0,27

stuff stuck in her hair. The man had wrecked half a forest, after all.

Among other things.

She had to be in shock. It was the only explanation for her inappropriate, leapfrogging thoughts. And to be honest, this whole holding on to her sanity thing was beginning to wear a little thin.

Looking back she wasn’t sure what finally compelled her to run, but some stupid part of her PTSD brain thought it was a good idea and somehow thought she might be able to make it to some of the humans she could hear in the distance. As if they could actually help her.

She made it all of five feet before he was on her.

She lashed out wildly, connecting with something.

“Ow! Marissa!”

“Let go of me! Leave me alone!” she screamed at him.

“Marissa, knock it off!”

She didn’t. She stomped down hard on his foot, for all the good that would do. And she couldn’t believe he’d just said “ow.” Those other two had beaten him, burned him, and practically blown him up and he’d barely flinched. But one little elbow from little old her and she was supposed to believe she’d hurt him?

Not freaking likely.

Then in a sudden flight of movement her feet came up off the ground and she went hurtling forward. All of a sudden, there was a rock face in front of her and she screeched as they blasted right into it.

And through it.

A cave or cavern, hidden by all the overgrowth, barely big enough to walk around in.

But she didn’t have the opportunity to take even a single step. He launched her straight into the back of the little cave, smacking both their bodies up against the wall, with her front pressing into the cold stone and his front pressed hard and hot all along the back of her body.

Marissa gasped for every breath, the wall cold against her cheek and breasts. She watched his hand touch the stone near her face, just the tips of his fingers, drawing close to her while his other hand was on the other side of her, caging her in. And if the stone was cold, the looming strength of his body at her back was hot. He wasn’t touching her right then, but all she had to do was push away from the wall by just a pair of inches and she would find herself curved into his whipcord-strong body. It took everything she had to keep from doing exactly that. She forced herself, instead, to remember just how terrified she was of him. She was. Wasn’t she?

“Marissa,” he breathed just behind her ear. “Marissa, Marissa, Marissa.” He said it so slowly. Just her name. The first one reproving. The second exasperated. The third calm. And the fourth … suggestive. It was just her name, but it was so much more than that.

“You think you know me,” he said in a whisper. “You think I’m still the man who sat in your office struggling to deal with grief and loss. You still think I’m a patient. I’m wounded. I’m … human.”

“A-aren’t you?” she stammered. She definitely wasn’t at all sure of that. Not anymore. Never again.

“Fair question,” he said, his breath washing hotly down over her shoulder. “I’m willing to explain if you are willing to listen.”

“I-I don’t see how I have any choice,” she said, struggling to speak as chills of fear and excitement chased each other down her skin over her spine. Just a little closer, part of her whispered. Run away, run far far away, another part whispered.

“Now, there you’re wrong. With me you will always have a choice. I can’t promise a lot of things, but I can promise you that. Go on. Ask me to let you go. See what happens.”

Marissa’s heart thundered against the press of the wall, her palms sweaty where they were braced against the cool stone. There it was, the perfect opportunity to get away, to be free. If he meant what he was saying she could leave. She could run away. She had that choice.

She opened her mouth. She had every intention of asking him to let her go. But instead a shaky whisper left her.

“If you’re not human, what are you?”

Goddammit, her curiosity was going to be the death of her, she thought fiercely.

“Oh, I’m human,” he assured her. “But I’m more than just the human male you know as Jackson Waverly. So much more.”

“So I gathered,” she said roughly.

His lips were against her temple and she felt him smile. For