"Why?"
Because he didn't want any child of his going through what he'd been through. And the surest way to ensure that was simply not to have any. "That's a second question."
"Given you didn't actually answer the first properly, I think it should be allowed."
She was persistent, he had to give her that. But he also had to wonder why. Was she thinking about trying to trap him by becoming pregnant? He stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge whether she was capable of such deception. While he didn't really think she'd stoop so low, the truth was, beyond the physical, they really didn't know each other all that well.
God, he'd better keep his wits about him and make damn sure they kept using condoms.
"Because," he lied, his voice a little sharper than necessary, "a werewolf's sense of family is all tied up with his heart. I can't physically love any offspring I might sire on any woman other than the one who captured my heart."
"Yet you love Janie."
"But she's not my get, and I don't love her in the same way."
"So what would happen if one of your monthly mates were to get pregnant?"
Tension knotted his gut, and he shot her glance. "Don't even think about it, Kat. I like you — a lot — but that's as far as it goes. I don't love you, and I certainly couldn't love any offspring you and I might produce."
"I'm not thinking about it, believe me." Her voice was hard, almost bitter. "And that didn't answer the question."
He took a deep breath, then blew it out in exasperation. "If I answer this, will you promise to drop the subject for good?"
Her gaze searched his briefly. He wondered what the hell she was searching for.
"Yes," she said after a moment.
"Good." He hesitated, steering the car around a sharp bend. They were approaching the cabin where he'd found the zombies, and he slowed, needing to look for a place to park. "If one of my mates got pregnant, I would support them financially, but that's it. I wouldn't see them again. Wouldn't see the kid."
"But why? That's what I can't understand."
He stopped the car in a stand of trees and turned to face her. "Because it's never good for a child to see his father treating his mother with utter contempt. And that's all I'd feel for someone who tried to trap me that way."
For several seconds there was nothing to be seen in her expression. Nothing beyond curiosity in the emotive swirl that swam between them. That in itself eased some of his tension, and when she smiled, it dissipated even more.
"I was only asking, Ethan, so relax. In a job like mine, I can hardly afford to be carting a kid around."
Even so, he was going to keep carrying condoms in his jeans pocket. "Good. Because I'd hate to think you'd sink so low."
"Never fear," she said, thrusting open the door almost viciously. "I know you're in it for nothing more than a good time, and I don't intend to forget it. Or the condoms."
"Good," he muttered and climbed out of the car.
And wondered why the thought of her belly fat and round with his child filled him with such fierce and sudden longing.
* * * *
Kat squatted beside Ethan and studied the old shack below them. It was a small wooden structure that looked to have been at the mercy of the elements for a good five years. Not the warmest hideaway in the world, though it was doubtful the dead really cared.
She shifted the weight of the pack on her back, then said, "You wait here. Once I'm sure the sleep bombs have worked, I'll call you over."
He placed a hand on her arm, stopping her from rising. "I don't think you should go down there alone."
She bit down on her impatience and ignored the concern in his eyes. "We've been through this already. Gran only included one mask." Truth was, she didn't include any. They didn't need them, because these sleep bombs were designed to affect only the dead. But she needed to get away from him for a few minutes. Needed time alone to gather her thoughts. To contemplate the reality of bringing a kid into the world who might never know his father.
Pain rose. She pushed it away and stood. "I've been doing this a long time. I know what I'm doing when it comes to the dead." It was the living she couldn't understand.
She walked down the slope to the small cabin. The smell of death was so overwhelming she gagged. She took several deep breaths through her mouth to ease the churning in her stomach, then edged around the corner and headed for the nearest window. The glass was grimy, but even so, she could see the dead on the floor. Ten of them. God help her and Ethan if they woke before the sleeping potions had a chance to work.