the girls crying. They must have run out to the car when Becki pulled in the driveway. He felt a chill as he began running toward his own car.
“Get the girls back in the house right now and lock the doors!” Royce ordered. “I’m on my way.”
“Royce says to get back inside and lock the doors,” she explained as she disentangled herself from three sobbing girls.
“Becki, do not answer the door for anyone,” Royce barked sternly. “Do you understand me? Kurt is on his way home, and I’ll be there in a few minutes. If you’re not inside, get there! Now!”
Becki heard another car door slam and turned to see strangers appearing in the cul-de-sac. They were moving quickly toward the driveway where she and the girls stood. Suddenly, Landon’s door opened. Thank God, she hadn’t known he was home.
However, it wasn’t Landon who appeared in the doorway. Bursting out of Landon’s house were several very large men. Men she didn’t know and had never met. What the hell? Those were some scary dogs the guys had. Or were they dogs? Whatever they were, the things were growling and snarling and- shit-- running toward her.
Becki pushed the girls back into the house. Without pausing to look again, she slammed the door and threw the deadbolt home.
#
Joanna had regained consciousness a few minutes ago. She was, however, strangely subdued. Her eyes were downcast, and if he hadn’t known better, Landon would have sworn she wiped away a tear.
As she surfaced, Joanna felt a rush of emotion. Royce was really pissed! She had messed up big-time. But she had been so close! Something was dancing around the edges of her mind trying to get her attention. She had almost zeroed in on the elusive whisper-like thought. She would have to be more careful because something extremely powerful was trying to reach her. She felt better but was still a little tired. God, her head was killing her. She was certain her forearms had to be streaked with blood along with her face. However, she couldn’t quite bring herself to look.
“You OK?” Landon asked softly.
Joanna jerked her head around to see him standing close, a little too close. He was watching her a little too intently as well. Then she focused on the glass of water and aspirin he held in his hands.
“You do this often?” Joanna asked as she struggled to sit up.
Landon slid an arm around her shoulders and lifted her up, leaning her against his chest. Keeping his arm around her, he handed her the pills and then the water.
“Not too often,” he answered, his breath whispering across her cheek.
Joanna swallowed the aspirin, savoring the taste of ice cold water on a hot day. It was quite stifling at the moment, cocooned as she was in Landon’s arms and leaning against his broad chest. Water dribbled down the glass and splashed onto her chest.
Landon couldn’t help watching the liquid as it rolled down between her breasts. Joanna felt his gaze on her. It seemed as if he had followed the trail of water with his fingertips rather than his eyes.
Cupping Joanna’s face and tipping it toward him, Landon said, “You didn’t answer me. Are you ok?”
How is a girl supposed to think in these circumstances? A bad-ass Werewolf, normally chocked full of mischief and teasing, was looking at her all serious and concerned. Joanna shrugged out of his embrace and scooted to the side of the bed.
“Fine,” she said as she hurried toward the head to wipe the blood away.
She turned on the water and steeled herself to look in the mirror. Her arms weren’t covered in blood, so maybe she hadn’t lost as much of it as she thought. As she forced her gaze to the looking glass, she was stunned to see that not a drop of blood could be seen anywhere on her face.
She knew, without being told, who had cleaned the blood from her face and arms. Tears threated, but she forced them back. No more tears! She had shed enough over the past few years to last a lifetime. They hadn’t helped then, and they wouldn’t help now. Joanna griped the door handle and turned it slowly. She opened the door bracing herself to deal with the embarrassment of thanking Landon for what he had done.
The room was empty. She sagged against the door frame, feeling somewhat like a coward. Get on with it, Joanna. What are you afraid of?