Connor nodded his approval. “If you’re a good vampire, there’s a spinach smoothie waiting at the end of our run.”
I narrowed my eyes as I took him in from the gorgeous planes of his face to the planes of his abdomen. “Is that how you look like that? Spinach smoothies?”
He lifted a brow, put his hands on his hips, tapped the diagonal muscles at the edge of his hips. “Like this?” he asked, but there was no modesty in the tone.
“I figured it was just magic.”
He snorted. “Magic doesn’t hurt. But no, it’s work. You train plenty; so do I. So let’s get to it. Be down in five.”
“Who’s the bossy one now?”
“The prince, of course.” Then winked before closing the door again.
“Be down in five,” I mimicked and threw my legs over the side of the bed.
“I heard that,” he called out.
Damned shifter hearing.
* * *
* * *
Because he was right, and I did need to burn off some energy, I got dressed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and met him in the kitchen.
He glanced up, gaze taking in the sports bra and running shorts I’d donned, and the skin left bare against the late summer heat. “On second thought,” he said, voice gravelly, “maybe we should make other plans.”
“Your plan was just fine,” I said.
He looked me over again. “It definitely has its upside.”
“Mm-hmm. Why you stalling? Are you nervous about running against a vampire with super strength and super speed?”
He snorted. “Bring it, dead girl.”
Can and will, I thought, and smiled.
“Two legs or four?” he asked.
“Two,” I said.
“In that case . . .” He pushed off, ran down the hallway toward the front door.
“Damn it,” I said and followed him.
We were both snort-laughing by the time we got to the door and were through it, made it down the steps and to the sidewalk. The air smelled of rain, but the sidewalks were still dry. It hadn’t come yet, but it would. The storm would break, and carry away the last of summer, the dregs of heat and dust, and escort in the chill of fall.
We reached the street and both paused for a sobering moment, to check for magic and enemies, to see if they’d found the town house, found us. But the night was quiet, the few sounds made by humans. Most were inside, waiting for the rain to fall.
But not us. Not when the night was here for the taking, and we had freedom left to spend.
“Go,” I said and took off in front of him.
I heard him curse and push off behind me, catch up in seconds. We both ran hard, not yet full-out, but enough to challenge each other. Down one dark street, turning the corner, and sprinting down the dark sidewalk, laughing even as we breathed harder, pushed harder. He began to outpace me—his damned legs were longer, and he was literally built for running, at least in wolf form—so I accelerated, and nearly beat him to the entrance of a small park at the end of the street.
Nearly.
He slapped the wooden sign first, then looked back at me, grinned in victory.
Chest heaving, I grinned back. Both of us had hands on our hips, bodies gleaming with exertion under the rising moon.
There was joy, utter and sheer joy, in his eyes. “You don’t just run. You love running,” I said.
“Shifter,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “Running is life. Running is Pack. It’s prey and escape and companionship. There’s very little shifters love more.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Well, obviously we also love that. Immensely.” He looked around at the park. Mums bloomed on the pathway; frogs croaked in the darkness nearby. “I run here from NAC headquarters. It’s a longer route than from the town house, but it’s quiet, peaceful.”
A frog let out an enormous croak.
“Mostly quiet and peaceful,” he amended, and looked back at me, smiled.
“Why not run as a shifter?”
“Because humans tend not to like seeing a wolf run past their windows. They think we’re going to eat their corgis.”
I looked at him, considered. “How many times have you had to shift naked in front of animal control?”
He grinned. “Twice before I learned my lesson.”
He’d wanted to run to help me settle my nerves. But not just that, I realized. If all failed tonight, if we were hurt or separated, we’d still have had this