her go. And she wasn’t sticking around to see what else he had planned for her.
The only one she knew she could trust was herself.
Her gaze focused on the world beyond the fenced yard surrounding her. There were dangers out there, she knew. Hadn’t she been running for the last ten years of her life? She knew that the MPs and BOW were somewhere watching. She also knew that civilians, like the ones at the school who had surrounded her with fear and hatred just that afternoon, could be even more dangerous than the feds.
And still, there was little choice. She had to take her chances.
She couldn’t stay with her jailer. His presence was doing something to her. And she couldn’t risk sticking around to find out what more might be coming. Not only that—there was another good reason to run.
“Mating ritual,” she whispered, reminding herself that not every danger came with a threat to her life.
Heat instantly blossomed deep inside her and her body trembled at the thought of being under, over and around that incredible male. But she couldn’t help how her hormones reacted. That was just nature. Chemistry.
She was more than that.
She had a brain and she was going to use it.
Looking down at the hydrangea bush beneath the balcony, Shea considered just how badly she might be hurt if she dropped herself into it. “Worst-case scenario, I break a leg and I’m trapped here,” she murmured, as if hearing her own voice would infuse her with the courage she needed. “Best case, I’m out of here and on the run.”
She didn’t have the suitcase from her car trunk, but a quick check of her bra told her that she still had her stash of emergency money. She’d find the closest bus or train station, buy a ticket and disappear.
Not daring to waste any more time, Shea climbed over the edge of the balcony and sent one last look back to the lush, empty room she was leaving behind. Warmth and luxury weren’t everything, though. Sometimes safety was the open road and a cold wind at your back. She took a breath, then turned her mind to the problem at hand. Carefully, she lowered herself until she caught the bottom of the railing, her hands gripping the base of the twisted iron tightly. Chill dampness leached into her bones and fed the dark cold already settling in the pit of her stomach.
She could only hope that her jailer wasn’t currently in a room with a view of the hydrangea bush. Her legs swung free, her feet instinctively groping for a foothold that wasn’t there. She hung in place for a slow count of five, then bit her lip, closed her eyes and let go.
A brief yet seemingly interminable amount of time passed and then she dropped into the bush. Heavy branches and bunches of lilac-colored flowers broke her fall, but the air rushed out of her lungs on impact. Wincing at the noise she’d made with her fall, she waited to see if there would be an outcry, if someone in the house had heard the commotion and was even now racing out to recapture her.
But there was nothing, so she took a breath and did a quick mental inventory. Nothing broken, thank God. Sore, bruised undoubtedly, but she was ready to run. She peered up and around the thick dark leaves and was relieved to see that the bush surrounding her backed against a wall of the house. No windows. So no way for Torin to have seen her fall.
Now all she had to do was escape before he discovered she was gone.
Scrambling, Shea fought her way free of the heavy plant, then staggered to her feet. Instantly, she headed for the darkest shadows on the lawn. She knew there was a high wall around the property, but she’d already noticed the sturdy, ancient trees lining the perimeter. Surely one of them would be close enough to the wall that if she was lucky, she could use it to vault herself to freedom.
Freedom.
That one word was like a talisman. She had to stay free, not just of Torin but of the agencies chasing her. Free of the civilians who would no doubt be on guard for her. She had to find a way to hide deeply enough that the world would, eventually, forget about her.
Shea clung to the shadows, keeping low, half expecting to hear a shout at any moment. To feel strong arms covered in