Touch of Evil - Cecy Robson Page 0,54

I say, resolution steeling my voice. “Hang on.”

She squeals when I toss her over my shoulder. I rush through the alley and leap onto the fire escape.

I usually leave my windows unlocked and sometimes opened. Anyone would have to be naive or suicidal to break into a werewolf’s apartment.

We reach the third floor in no time flat. I place her down and throw open the window to my living room. The motion drops the towel wrapped around my waist.

Emme’s focus drifts down. It’s brief, her head snapping up the moment she realizes I notice. Her large, beautiful eyes and her guilty expression give away the attention she gave Little Bren, and the longer I eye her, the more embarrassed she appears. Her lips remain blue and her messy hair is mashed against her face and scalp. God help me, there isn’t anyone prettier out there.

The clouds return full force, battling it out with the overcast sky, and beating back what little sun had blurred out the gray. Rain as cold as the first frost pelts us in large drops, wetting down the patches of dry skin our bodies managed on the walk here.

It’s raining a-fuckin-gain. We’re getting soaked and colder.

And none of it stands a chance against this unfamiliar heat between me and Emme.

What the hell is happening? Emme has been my pal for years. Where was the shift? Was it in Malaysia when that fool chased her down? Or when that witch tried to gut me?

The clouds bust open and rain pours. Neither of us move. I have to get us inside. I know this. But it’s like I can’t and don’t want to move. This moment, right here on the cold metal fire escape, can’t end. It’s perfect. Right and wrong at once. Sweet and sinful at the same time. Pretty in all the ugly.

Finally, I move. Finally, I speak. Logic somewhat winning out.

“Shrinkage,” I say.

“Huh?”

It’s what she says, except when she looks past my waist, she knows. “It shrinks when it’s cold,” I add.

Like my ass is on fire, I hop up on the sill and crawl through the window.

Chapter Seventeen

Emme

Bren holds out his arms and lifts me through the window. He sets me down like I would an art piece made entirely of glass. Without another word, he shuts the window to the living room and crosses the room into his bedroom. Instead of following him, I stand where he left me and try not to drool.

“Fine ass.”

That’s what Taran would say.

“Bren has a fine ass.”

I’ve seen Bren naked plenty of times. When you have weres for friends, it’s inevitable. But I’ve never really looked at him naked before. In the past, I’ve tried to respect his privacy. Now, I’m positively gawking.

Bren re-enters the room carrying fresh towels and a flannel shirt.

“I can’t find any of Heidi’s things you can use,” he says. “Just bathing suits and a couple of old Halloween costumes.” He holds out a hand. “Don’t ask. Me and Dan, we don’t go there.”

It’s all white noise. Bren is still naked, not that he has anything to be embarrassed about. That T-build, those muscles, and the eight-pack of abs are hard to ignore.

I do my best and focus on his forehead.

He rubs his head, appearing confused. “Blood?” he asks.

“What?”

“You’re looking at my forehead, Emme. Did I get cut up or something?”

“You’re fine.” Don’t look down, don’t look down, do not look…oh…my.

“How about a shower?” he asks.

“Yes,” I reply, a little too eagerly.

“Em? You all right? No offense, but I’m thinking you’re coming down with hypothermia. Get a hot shower and take some time to heal yourself. You can use Danny’s bathroom. It’s cleaner than mine.”

Bren drops the towels and shirt in my arms and leads me into Danny’s suite. As he bends to start the water, I have to cover my mouth to keep my tongue from lolling to the tiled floor.

“I’ll shower too and fix some grub. You want some?”

“Yes,” I rasp.

Bren lifts his head slowly and glances at me over his shoulder. He looks scared and possibly thinking I’m brain damaged from the fight.

“Tea,” I answer quickly. “Tea would be lovely.”

My response satisfies him enough to leave me unattended. I watch him exit the bathroom, angling my body to steal one last look at him before he shuts the door tight.

I can’t keep my eyes off him.

I step into the shower and try to focus on healing my injuries and the damaging effects of almost drowning (twice!).

On the dock, I only