Firefox

His fox calmed, even if his demon side, his father’s side, tried to hang on to the hurts and the uncertainties. When he’d calmed himself, he let the lightning wrap around him and through him again and pull him back into his human form. He scratched one of his ears before letting his fox-self rest a while, and pulled on his clothing.

There was no point in indulging himself any longer. He had to find Chloe again, and figure out what kept making her cry.

He sat cross-legged on the rumpled motel bed and closed his eyes to focus on his heart and the heart of his goddess. He reached out for her, and despite her unwillingness to accept him so far, he could feel her. Crying again, such pain around her, so much suffering that he was desperate to alleviate.

Sparrow willed his mind to find her, and there she was. He opened his arms, his heart and mind, and he was no longer in the motel room but on a stool in a white, gleaming kitchen, a bowl of oranges on the counter in front of him. He smiled, pleased with himself, and began peeling one for his goddess.

Chapter 5

The cab pulled up outside her house, so she tipped the driver and hurried inside, intending to rush straight to the bathroom to drop to her knees in front of the toilet, worshipping the porcelain god. She hated the similarity to the way she started every day for more than a month so many years ago and the way the memories made her feel, but it couldn’t be helped.

The scent of oranges hit her after she’d taken three steps, followed by a bump that sounded like one of her kitchen cabinets closing. She almost turned and ran outside, but a voice carried from the kitchen. A familiar voice.

“Gaia, you’re here.” Another bump. “If I’d known you didn’t have coffee, I’d have taken the time to get some.”

Chloe gasped and walked down the hall to see the guy from the bar opening and closing her cabinets as if looking for something. Her stomach churned. She hadn’t woken up at the motel after all. She was still sleeping off the bourbon and about to embark on a freaky-ass dream.

How the hell …

No other explanation fit. She’d left him sleeping and caught a cab to come home. He couldn’t have beat her there—it wasn’t possible.

She was probably about to wake up and barely make it to the bathroom, given the way her stomach felt in this dream.

“Gaia, you didn’t look so good.” The man rushed to her, brow drawn down in concern.

Chloe took a couple of steps back and put her hand up. “Shhh. If I’m going to have a drunk dream, can it be a quiet one?”

“Drunk dream?”

She turned toward the bathroom. Was she really going to vomit in her dream? Yes, she thought she was.

“You don’t look well.”

“I’m not.” She made it to the toilet, but didn’t drop to her knees. That was too close to how she’d spent weeks of morning sickness so long ago, and too painful. She stood, her head hanging, waiting for the inevitable purge. Her head throbbed like an all-drum band was having a parade inside her skull.

“Please allow me to help you. ”

She ignored him.

It was a dream, so rudeness could be forgiven, right? When he stepped close behind her and wrapped his arms around her, she decided not to fight it for the same reason. None of it was real, so what did it hurt?

Her stomach knotted, she leaned more, tried to bend at the waist so she didn’t miss, but the guy’s hand pressed against her stomach, and another touched her forehead. She couldn’t bend, in fact she straightened against him and—

Chloe shouted.

It punched out of her as something zapped through her, a jolt like the world’s worst static electricity shock but throughout her whole body. She jerked free of him and spun, nearly toppling backward to sit on the toilet. He grabbed her and kept her from falling.

“What did you do to me?” she demanded, her fingers and toes still tingling.

“I helped,” he said softly, almost sadly. He let go of her.

“You shocked me…you…” Chloe swallowed, her stomach no longer threatening to erupt. Her brain had stopped throbbing, and the light didn’t hurt her eyes anymore.

Her hangover was gone.

Yeah, this was definitely a dream. The distasteful thought came that maybe she threw up while asleep and that explained why she felt so much better.

“Come, let’s find some coffee,” he said. “It’s one of the few beverages here I enjoy.” He took her hand in an attempt to lead her from the bathroom, but she pulled it away. When he left the bathroom, she followed and opened the drawer where she kept the coffee. His face lit up as he set up the pot to brew.