Master of the Abyss

Chapter Thirteen

“Oh please,” Kallie whispered, to Andrew, to God, to whoever might help. She could barely see through the tears in her eyes but couldn’t miss the widening red spilling down Virgil’s neck. If the monster pressed harder, he’d hit the artery and…

He muttered something about demons and slaves. A sacrifice.

But he wanted her, not Virgil. “Andrew, take me.”

Andrew’s head jerked up. He stared around him, horror filling his face as if he saw something other than the clearing. His gaze finally came to her. “Demon, don’t speak to me. Demons don’t die. Cling to life.”

“I don’t.” She took a step closer. “There’s nothing for me here. No one. You can kill me, and they’ll be sad for a minute and then move on.”

“Your lover won’t.” His fist clenched, and the knife moved an infinitesimal amount.

Her heart hammered frantically. “He left me.” Andrew’s muscles slackened as Kallie edged closer. “He won’t care-I wasn’t who he wanted.” The hurt of that must have entered her voice, for the knife moved, a half inch…an inch…from Virgil’s throat. “I don’t belong anywhere.” Just two steps out of Andrew’s reach, she dropped to her knees.

“Dammit, Kallie,” Logan shouted, panic in his voice. She glanced at him. Too far away to help her, but when the monster attacked, Logan could save Virgil. Fair trade, her mind and heart said, though her hands shook, everything inside her shook, every nerve screamed, Run!

Doubt showed in Andrew’s face. He glanced at Virgil, then at her.

Almost, almost. Bowing her head was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

She saw the knife drop into the dirt, and jerked her eyes up as, in one move, he grabbed the club. As the weapon swung up, Kallie lifted her arms to cover her head, even knowing her bones would break like dry twigs.

Something hit Andrew from the side, knocking him away. She felt the wind, the swish as the heavy branch whipped past her face. The shock-she was still braced for pain-stunned her. I’m alive?

She stared at the struggling men and panicked. Nooo, not Jake. Her Jake against that monster? She scrambled to her feet, snatched up the knife, and-Logan grabbed her, dragging her across the clearing and away from the fighting. He locked his arm around her when she tried to get free.

“Let me go!” She fought him, yelled at him. Logan’s hold didn’t loosen.

She saw the club come up and swing down brutally, and she moaned, cringing in anticipation of seeing-Jake dodged, but the weapon hit his shoulder in a glancing blow. Jake stumbled back, and Andrew swung, and again Jake dodged. He stepped in quickly and punched Andrew hard in the face.

Andrew staggered and recovered too quickly, forcing Jake to evade the backswing.

“Fuck, Jake’s screwed. Secrist is madman strong.” Logan charged across the clearing as Andrew swung again.

“No no no.” Kallie threw her knife.

It hit Andrew in the back, too small to do any good, but Andrew screamed as if it had impaled him. His arms spread wide.

Jake stepped in and kicked, his boot hitting the monster’s bloody leg. Andrew shrieked and stumbled forward.

Jake ripped the heavy branch away. Holding it in two hands, he spun around like a discus thrower. One turn and then the club smashed into the monster’s head with a crunching sound that Kallie would never, ever forget.

Andrew catapulted back with the complete flaccidness of the dead, even before he hit the ground.

Chest heaving, Jake stood over him. Logan stepped beside him and set his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Kallie stared at Jake. Alive. Blood streaked his face, gleaming wet and dark in the silvered light. His shirt gaped open from a long rip across the shoulder. When he moved, he limped. But he was all right. Thank you, thank you, God.

After one last reassuring look, she dropped to her knees beside Virgil. Relief flooded through her as he groaned and struggled to a sitting position. He held one hand across his ribs. “What the hell did he hit me with?”

“Something Goliath might carry,” she said, laughing-she thought she was laughing, but tears blurred her vision. “You asshole, he might have killed you.” She ripped a sleeve from her shirt and pressed the fabric against his neck. But the cut had almost stopped bleeding.

Virgil touched his forehead and winced. “Good thing he didn’t get in a solid hit.” Then he grabbed her shoulder and shook her hard. “I heard you. What the hell were you thinking? He-” He choked and muffled the rest of his increasingly foul curses.

He was definitely alive. Her vision blurred again as she smiled at him. A second later, she felt a soft touch on her head and looked up, but Jake had already moved away. He walked over to where his brother knelt in the grass.

Logan glanced up. “Considering your lack of grace, that was a nice job of getting up close and behind him.”

“He wasn’t paying attention to anything except his sacrifice.” Jake shot Kallie a furious look that made her wince, then bent down. “How is he?”

A whine. Kallie’s heart clenched as Thor struggled to his feet. The yelps she’d heard…

Logan ran his hands over the dog’s body. “Gonna be sore, but doesn’t feel like anything’s busted.” His voice roughened with anger. “Why the hell didn’t you shoot the bastard, Masterson? You drop your weapon or something?”

“Or something. He threw your damned dog at me. That’s a fucking heavy dog, Hunt. He knocked me on my ass.” Virg snorted in disgust. “I should have shot through it. Couldn’t.”

Silence. Logan’s hand paused on the dog’s fur, and then he sighed. “It’s hard to fault you for that. Thanks for not killing him.”

“No problem.” Virg looked over toward Andrew’s body, and his mouth thinned. “Worked out. Good job there, Jake.”

Jake grunted acknowledgement-why do men do that?-and glanced at Kallie. “I had help. Nice throw.”

She stared at him and couldn’t think of a thing to answer, not with the memory of the club swinging for him.

Jake knelt beside the dog. “Stupid beast. Learn to dodge better.” His arms around the whining dog belied the cold words. The wagging tale said Thor knew better than Kallie did how a man expressed his love.

Hell, her eyes had blurred again. Had she gotten struck on the head?

With a few more curses and still holding the ribs on his left side, Virgil struggled to his feet. “It’s going to hurt like hell to laugh for a few days,” he muttered. “You tell any jokes, little bit, and I’m going to thump you.”

Yeah, he was all right. The surge of relief made her dizzy. “So, cuz, what did the prostitute say to the priest?”

He barked a laugh and groaned, then pushed her over with his foot.

Right onto her aching hip. Her yelp of pain sounded like Thor’s.

Not a second later, Jake shoved her cousin to one side. “Bastard, she’s hurt,” he growled and knelt beside her. “Let’s see the damage, sugar.”

With those words, the same words he’d used in the ClaimJumper so long, long ago, her defenses shredded, and a sob ripped out of her.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, and she knew-no matter how many other civilizations thrived out there among the stars-his embrace was the safest, warmest place in the universe.

Dammit. Jake had tried to stay away and let Virgil care for her. She trusted her cousin. Not Jake. Not anymore. He’d have to regain her trust somehow, but right now she didn’t need any more emotional upsets.

He really had tried to stay away. But now, as she clung to him, he knew he’d break Virgil’s face before he let her go.

“Is she…? Kallie, I didn’t mean…” Virgil bent and touched her shoulder. “Come here, little bit. Let me check you-”

“She’s mine,” Jake snapped, then amended, “I mean, she’ll be all right.”

A corner of Virgil’s mouth turned up. “Got it.” He straightened, hunted and found his pistol in the grass, then walked over to check Secrist’s body.

Jake returned his attention to what was important in his world. “Shhh,” he murmured, her sobs hitting him harder than the cudgel had. He gathered her closer, so tiny and so brave. She’d terrified him, walking out of the forest to plant herself in front of a murderer twice her size. His little Toto, growling and never backing down. How could a man feel so much pride and fear all at once?

“Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured and rested his cheek on top of her head.

She cried a little longer, and then-all too soon, in his opinion-shut down her tears. Macho sprite. But she couldn’t stop the shivers racking her fragile bones.

Virgil had kept an eye on Kallie, and when she sat up and wiped her face, he walked back across the clearing. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her cry before,” he muttered to Jake, his face strained with more than pain.

Jake understood completely. She needed to cry, but each sob had stabbed through him like a knife.

Virgil offered Jake a hand. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll send a team up for the body.”

The narrow trail demanded they walk single file, and silence reigned on the way down the mountain, except for the occasional curse when the bad footing jarred an injury. In an emotionless fog, Kallie marked that Jake swore less than the others, probably because of her presence. Virgil groaned more. Logan was the only uninjured one, she thought, until she realized he limped as badly as Jake.

“Logan, how’d you get hurt?” she asked, her voice startling her.

Logan glanced back at her and huffed a laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, my brother has the grace of a hippopotamus on drugs. He tripped over a log right in front of me, and I piled into him. Wrenched my knee. Then we had to untangle, find the flashlights, and locate the trail again. It’s why we didn’t all get there together.”

“Well, bro, if you hadn’t been trying to run up my ass, you’d have had time to stop.” As he’d done all the way down, Jake turned to help her over a log, and she took comfort from each time his warm hand closed over her cold one.

A few minutes later, a couple of deputies rushing up the trail barreled into Virgil, and after some discussion, turned around and accompanied the group back down.

By the time they reached the edge of the forest, Kallie felt as if she had five pounds of mud dragging down each boot. Jake put his arm around her, and she gratefully sagged against him.

They stepped out into a world of flashing lights and noise. A short distance away, two officers blocked Wyatt and Morgan from the trail, and her cousins sounded ready to explode.

Thor gave a sharp bark, attracting everyone’s attention, and within a second, far too many people converged on them. To Kallie’s relief, Virgil pulled his brothers and the cops off to one side, leaving her with Jake and Logan.

Logan stopped in the center of the gravel yard, and Thor waited beside him, tail drooping in exhaustion. “You heading back now, Jake?”

Stay here. Please. Kallie took a breath and released it slowly, then tried to move away. He should go. Don’t start this all over again.

Jake tightened his arm around her. “Thanks, but no. I have a few problems to deal with here.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to her, and after a moment, he glanced at Jake. “Understood. Call if you need anything.”

“Thanks, bro.” Jake’s voice softened. “Seriously.”

Logan lifted a hand. “Part of the brotherly job description.” He touched her hair gently. “Night, sugar.”

“Good night, Logan,” Kallie managed. “Thank you.”

She bent to stroke Thor’s soft fur and whisper, “Thank you, Thor.” He licked her cheek. Logan stopped to speak to Virgil briefly; then he and Thor climbed into his vehicle.

As the sound of Logan’s truck faded, Virgil left the police and walked over. “You’re free to go, Jake, but you’ll need to come in to the station tomorrow to give a statement.”

“I appreciate the reprieve, but I’m not leaving yet. I’ll help Kallie shower, and then-”

Kallie’s mouth dropped open even as Virg’s brows lowered, and he said, “Not going to happen.”

“Which one of you men will help her?” Jake glanced down at her. “I’ve seen her naked before, you know.”

Kallie stiffened. “Jake, dammit.”

Red stained Virgil’s face, and he ran his hand through his hair. “Hell. Fine.”

“Afterward, I’d appreciate if you could get everyone into the living room.”

“For what, exactly?” Virg asked sarcastically.

“We’re going to discuss some misguided perceptions and sacrificial lambs.”

Kallie had lost track of the conversation as she tried to keep her legs from buckling.

Virgil said slowly, “I didn’t like that either. But”-he glanced over at the other cops-“later?”

“Right now. At this time, we might be able to get through. Maybe. Not later.”

“What are you two talking about?” Kallie asked, locking her knees.

Virgil didn’t answer. He studied her for a second. “I can take some time if I make a quick report to the chief. I’ll leave clean clothes for you outside Kallie’s door, and we’ll see you downstairs.”

“Good.” When Jake turned Kallie toward the house, she stumbled. With a huff of laughter, he scooped her into his arms. “You’re exhausted, sprite. Where’s your room?”

You have to let him go. “I can get there myself.”

“Nope.”

As Jake hauled her across the yard, she saw Virgil intercept Wyatt and Morgan before they could get to her.

Despite his limp, Jake carried her all the way up the stairs. After setting her on her feet, he flipped on the lights in her bedroom and looked around.

She sighed. She’d left her new red underwear on the dark blue carpet, flannel shirts tossed over the desk chair, a stack of books beside the bed. In one corner, a table held her carving tools and projects…and shavings circled the area like snow. Martha Stewart would cringe. “Sorry about the mess.”

“As long as the bed fits us both, I’m happy.”

The thought of not being alone… She leaned her forehead against his chest. “Thank you. For staying.”

He shook his head. “No thanks needed, but we definitely have some talking to do. For now, let’s clean up.”

“I shower alone.” She caught the amusement in his eyes and glared at him.

“Uh-uh, little sub,” he murmured. He pulled her against him, careful but firm. “Are you allowed to glare at your dom?”

My dom? A curl of warmth eased the cold inside her. “You’re not my dom.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he brushed his lips across hers. “Shower, sprite,” he whispered.

In her bathroom, he looked around slowly. “Nice.”

“The guys remodeled it when I was fourteen.” She’d lived with them for only six months and had expected them to send her away at any time. But when her history class had gone on a three-day field trip, she’d returned to find it like this. Pale blue floral wallpaper, dark blue countertop, amazing lighting. A walk-in shower with delicate flowers decorating the tile. An oversize tub. A very feminine bathroom-they’d done it just for her. Like she was going to stay. When the four big men had beamed at her, she’d almost cried.

Over the years, she’d changed very little. In this one place, she could believe she was a woman, not one of the boys.

“It suits you, sweetheart,” Jake said and efficiently divested her of her dirty, bloody clothing.

He opened the smoky glass shower door and turned on the water. Steam rose in the cool air. Jake stripped and stepped into the shower with her, never letting go of her arm.

As the spray hit her, she sighed. So warm.

Jake washed her carefully, his big hands gentle on her scrapes and sore spots. He growled at the undoubtedly huge bruise in the center of her back. She remembered the feel of Andrew’s boot, his weight on her, and cringed.

“Shhh, Kalinda, it’s over.” He moved on, washing thoroughly, not turning it into anything sexual, then washed her hair. Afterward he scrubbed himself down, and the fragrance of her herbal soap mingled with his masculine scent.

He dried her as carefully as he’d washed her.

“I can do it myself,” she protested. “I live here, so I should be taking care of you.” She tried to take the towel.

“Not this time. Your turn will come.”

Ignoring her protests, he tucked her into her heavy terrycloth bathrobe and ran a finger down her cheek. “It pleases me to care for you, sprite. I came too close to losing you.” His eyes darkened, and he pulled her into his arms, squeezing the breath from her. “God, that was too close.”

When he released her, she clung for a moment, then pushed away and stood on her own. If only she didn’t feel so damn tired. And shaky. I need to call Rebecca and request some big-girl panties.

Jake retrieved the black sweatpants and T-shirt that Virgil had left at her door and dressed quickly. Ignoring her objections, he scooped her up again to carry her downstairs.

She seemed to weigh nothing in his embrace and felt almost fragile. Precious. Every time he remembered how she’d knelt and offered herself to save Virgil, his anger flared, and he wanted to kill the bastard again.

The living room was empty, the silence broken only by the faint noise of people in the kitchen and the ticking of a mantel clock. After glancing around, he chose an oversize chair and then settled Kallie on his lap so she could lean against his chest.

Morgan must have heard them. He crossed the room to yell out the front door for his brother, and a minute later, Virgil came in, filthy and exhausted.

From the kitchen, Wyatt brought mugs of hot chocolate. Jake took one and set it on the adjacent table, then accepted the other and sipped to check the temperature. Just right and liberally laced with Baileys Irish Cream.

“Here you go, sprite,” he said, letting her curl her fingers around the mug but keeping a grip when her hands trembled. She closed her eyes as she sipped, and her long eyelashes made a dark smudge against her pale cheeks. His heart contracted. He wanted to take her upstairs and simply hold her.

But he was also her dom, whether she’d accepted it or not. Much like intense BDSM scenes, painful, frightening events could uncover tears in the soul. Somewhere, something in her past had convinced her that she didn’t belong anywhere-that no one loved her-although anyone seeing her family knew different.

Tomorrow he and her cousins might tell her how they felt, but her heart would be guarded again. Tonight, perhaps, they had a chance of getting through. Perhaps.

He felt like he was setting out poorly equipped for a mission. To try to mend such a long-held belief? He had half a mind to wait and push her into seeing a counselor. Yet was there ever a wrong time to hear you were loved?

Virgil had chosen the couch, Morgan a chair. Muttering under his breath, Wyatt dropped into another chair and scowled at Jake. He obviously didn’t like seeing Kallie in Jake’s arms or the way he’d assumed control. “Listen, Hunt, this-”

“Shut. Up.” Jake shot him an even look. “Up on the mountain, Kallie told Secrist it wouldn’t matter if she died, that she’d never belonged anywhere.” He took her cocoa and set it on the adjacent table.

Wyatt’s mouth opened. Then his brows drew together. He exchanged a dismayed look with Morgan. “But-”

This time Wyatt stopped when Jake frowned.

Jake looked down at Kallie. Exhausted, fading in and out, although light tremors still shook her body. Her exhaustion had caught up. “Sprite.”

She opened her eyes slowly, her gaze not quite focused. “Uh-huh?”

“Tell me where you went after you left your stepfather.”

“Now? But-”

“Don’t think; just tell me.” To better evaluate her responses, he slid his hand between the buttons of her robe. With his palm on her upper abdomen and fingertips between her small breasts, he could feel her relaxed stomach muscles and slow heartbeat.

“I went to live with Aunt Penny.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Every muscle under his hand tensed, and the hurt that gathered in her eyes tore at his heart. She shrugged. “She sent me to Teresa-got tired of me, I guess.”

“What? No,” Morgan said loudly enough to make her startle. Her cousin jumped to his feet. “No, that’s not true.” Moving closer, he stared at her. “Jesus, Kallie, didn’t anyone tell you? She was terrified Charles would hurt you.”

Kallie blinked and frowned up at Morgan, unable to understand what he meant. “Charles never hurt…” Well, maybe her big cousin had slapped her once because she’d spilled her milk. “But why?”

“He’s bipolar. Hell, right after you left, he beat up a kid at school so bad the kid went to the hospital. Penny said he’d just…lose it sometimes.”

Bipolar? Kallie tried to think, but her thoughts tangled as if caught in underbrush. Charlie was bipolar? He’d been a teenager. Maybe he’d gotten a little…weird. Lost his temper. Threw things, usually at her. “I thought he didn’t like me. I was so clumsy.”

“No,” Wyatt burst out.

Morgan shot him a silencing glare, then took her hand. “Kallie, he cried when you left. He’d refused to admit anything was wrong, and so had Penny. But then he hit you…” His lips pressed together. “Yeah, well, he got a psych doctor who figured out what was wrong and put him on medication. Aunt Penny bawled for-hell, forever-at losing you. But she had to work and couldn’t trust Charlie to watch you after school. Not when he was so messed up.”

Oh. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. Aunt Penny hadn’t wanted her to go? Charlie had cried because she’d left? In her head, the murky picture of her aunt with a cold, hard face and her angry cousin lightened and changed until tears filled their eyes. Sadness. Oh.

Morgan squeezed her hand. “Let me tell you-”

“Later,” Jake said, silencing her cousin. “She’ll want more later. Right now, I want to hear about-”

“Who the hell do you think you are, Hunt?” Wyatt snapped, not Virgil, who she’d thought would object first. “And get your hands off her.”

Kallie suddenly realized Jake had his hand flattened on her stomach, his fingers between her breasts. She shook her head at him.

He didn’t move. His eyes never left hers, intent, so very blue. “I’m the man who fought a killer for her.”

Her mind replayed the way he’d come out of nowhere to slam into Andrew-he could have died. She started to shake again. He shifted, holding her closer, with his hand still warm on her bare skin. She tried to push at it.

“Uh-uh, sprite,” he said softly, and she gave up, too lost in the warmth of his gaze to argue.

“So,” he said, his voice as easy as if they’d simply gotten together for a beer at the ClaimJumper. “After Penny, who’d you live with?”

Why did he keep asking about her past? She frowned, trying to understand why he was-

His chin rose, and his eyes hardened. His voice deepened, “You will answer me. Now.”

Wyatt made an angry sound even as her words spilled out. “I went to Aunt Teresa and Uncle Pete.”

“Good place?” he asked, his fingers rubbing her cheek for a moment before dropping back down to lie as warm as a blanket on her chest.

She remembered the sound of children laughing, bickering, Aunt T singing as she cooked. Pete coming home from work, roaring, “Who has a kiss for an old man?” Her lips curved for a second. “Yes. I loved it there.”

“So what happened? Why didn’t you stay?”

The hurt slammed into her like a car wreck. She tried to sit up, and the hand on her chest held her down, keeping her still. She shoved at it again. “I don’t-”

“Go on, sprite. Tell me.”

“They moved.” She pressed her lips together as she remembered how Teresa had put her on the plane. Hugged her. Just a vacation, she’d thought. “They sent me here and didn’t want me back in the new place.”

“That would hurt,” Jake said softly. “How come?”

The comforting tone in his voice did her in, and her eyes filled. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I did wrong. Nobody ever lo-” But no, Aunt Penny had loved her. Morgan said so. She’d cried. Kallie blinked, confused.

And Wyatt exploded. “Son of a fucking bitch. Didn’t Pa ever talk to you?” He stomped over-her grumbly cousin-and glared down at her. “Pete lost his job, dammit.” He inhaled slowly, and the anger faded from his face. “Cuz, he got laid off, and they had four kids and you. They couldn’t pay the mortgage and had to move in with his sister. Two families in a one-bedroom apartment. On food stamps. Pa tried to give them money, but you know Uncle Pete, a real hard-ass about being a man.”

Kallie stared up at him as he shoved his hands through his hair. “They had a fight with Pa over the phone. They didn’t want to let you go, but it sounded like they were going to end up on the streets. Pa was yelling that he’d be damned if he’d let his niece starve.”

She hadn’t done anything wrong? It wasn’t me? Her lungs constricted until she couldn’t get any air. Wheezing, she grabbed Jake’s hand and heard him curse. He sat her up, an arm around her waist.

“Breathe, Kalinda. Pull it in. Slower.” His deep voice held her, made her listen, and there was air again, though her insides felt…wrong. Like her chest had filled with broken fragments and nothing lined up right inside.

She still gripped his hand so rigidly her knuckles hurt.

“No, don’t let go.” He kept her fingers in his, so strong. “Take another breath. Bad day-I’m not surprised you got a panic attack.” His easy laugh reassured her more than anything else could, and she sagged back against him. And looked up to see her terrified cousins crowding around her.

Wyatt broke first. “Jesus, fuck. Don’t-don’t ever scare me like that again.” He dropped to his knees and set his big hand on her leg. The muscles in his face were drawn. “Dammit, Kallie.”

“I didn’t…didn’t know.” She tried to smile. “I thought Teresa made Uncle Harvey take me. And you had to put up with me because he told you to.”

“No wonder you were such a mouse when you got here.” Virgil was on his knees now too, his face strained. “We wanted you, Kallie.”

Morgan’s laugh sounded more like a croak. “When Pete got a job, they tried to get you back, but you were ours.”

“Pa said not to tell you about how he and Teresa had stopped talking. He said you had such a soft heart that you’d feel bad having people fighting over you.” Virgil touched her cheek gently. “God, little bit, don’t you know how much we love you?”

In her chest, the splinters slowly merged, pulling together into a lumpy but complete whole. “I-I…” Her lips started to quiver.

“Hell, cuz,” Morgan said, his voice ragged, “the only fighting in our family has been because everyone wanted to keep you.”

“Teresa finally forgave Pa when you graduated, but…” Virgil’s brows drew together. “Is that why you never visited them on your vacations? You didn’t think they wanted you?”

She nodded, her throat too clogged to speak.

Wyatt choked out a laugh. “Well, stupid, I guess you’ve got a lot of visiting to do.”

They loved me. Everybody loved me. She couldn’t-couldn’t-A sob wrenched out of her, and she only had a second to see the horror crossing her cousins’ faces before Jake turned her, holding her like a baby to cry against his strong shoulder.

“There we go, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. Get it all out now, sugar.”

Her chest hurt with each horrible cry, one for each year she’d felt alone. Unloved. Abandoned.

Wanted. They’d wanted her. Teresa and Pete and Penny and Charlie. Harvey and Virgil and Morgan and Wyatt. All of them. As her tears slowed, she realized one of Jake’s big hands cradled her head against him; the other stroked her shoulders.

God, she loved him. She raised her head and bit the words back just in time. Hadn’t she learned anything?

The pang that shot through her hurt all the more because she felt whole.

After tucking Kallie into her bed, Jake had gone downstairs and talked to the brothers, suggesting counseling to help her integrate everything that had happened, from murder to family. He remembered how Logan had benefited from help, although they couldn’t perform miracles-especially with someone as mulishly stubborn as his brother.

Still shaken, the Mastersons agreed. While they were acting so agreeable, he considered pushing his claim to be part of Kallie’s life and decided he shouldn’t kick a man when he was down.

Not that they had time for a fight. The cops claimed Virgil, although before he left, he made an appointment for Jake and Logan to come in to the station for interviews. Outside the house, cops milled everywhere like a kicked-over ant heap. Ugly business, bringing a corpse down a trail at night, and Jake was pleased his sprite couldn’t see it.

But when he ran up to check on her before leaving, she was still awake. Still trembling. So he joined her on the bed, holding her and ignoring her protests.

As the minutes ticked by, he watched over her until her breathing slowed. Deepened. A warm, soft weight in his arms.

With a sigh of relief, Jake brushed a lock of hair from his little sub’s cheek. Not as pale. Her shaking had stopped. His hadn’t-he still felt as if his world hadn’t steadied yet. He’d loved women before, but not like this, never like this. Wanting nothing more than to protect her from everything that might harm her. Wanting to bury himself inside her and yet wanting only to have her sleeping in his arms.

He needed to hear her laugh though. Soon.