Nor will the Breed—
Chelsea came awake instantly, her eyes flaring open, an overwhelming sense of panic causing her to roll off the bed and drop soundlessly to the carpeted floor.
The black silk shirt Cullen had worn earlier still lay crumpled on the floor next to the nightstand and her pack. Pulling the compact automatic weapon from the side pocket of the pack, she laid it beside her and hurriedly pulled the shirt on, quickly buttoning it. Thankfully it was a short-sleeved shirt and she didn’t have to take time to roll the sleeves up. She grabbed the wrinkled sweatpants that lay half under the bed and jerked them on quickly, her gaze moving around the darkness, searching for whatever had brought her awake.
The automatic, icy containment of all emotions, especially fear or panic, kept her heartbeat regular, or kind of regular, allowing her to hear every sound rather than her racing heartbeat.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to hear.
The house was quiet. And dark.
The soft glow of the kitchen night-light was absent, the partially open bedroom door showing nothing but darkness beyond. And she knew Cullen would have never turned that light out.
He wasn’t in the bed with her either. She peeked over the edge of the mattress, just to be certain, and there was definitely no Cullen.
The knowledge that whatever woke her was dangerous crawled over her flesh. That sensation assured her that danger was in the house with her.
Holding her weapon carefully at the side of her thigh, she crept silently to the partially open door and let her gaze slide to what she could see of the hall.
Where was Cullen? Why wasn’t he in the bed with her?
He wouldn’t have left her alone and gone anywhere without her. He was too protective, too possessive.
So where was he?
Staying completely silent and allowing her gaze to adjust to the darkness, Chelsea lowered herself closer to the floor before sliding through the narrow opening between the door and the frame. Any movement of the door would alert an intruder that she was awake, and she wanted to make certain she saw them first.
Once in the hall, she remained low to the floor, watching the darkness carefully.
There were no odd shadows or shapes that she could glimpse, nothing to indicate why the lights were out or what had brought her so quickly awake.
She could only see part of the kitchen and living room, and she debated the best way to slide from the hallway. The living room door was closer, but something kept drawing her gaze to the kitchen. A sensation or overwhelming impulse.
Moving her gaze around the darkness again, she noticed that everything looked normal. If there was danger, and she was certain there was, then it was just out of sight. But which way?
Rather than moving, she stayed completely still and waited.
Watched.
Part of her training for the Breed Underground had been just this. Remaining still and silent, unmoving while she tried to outwait her trainers.
In this case she wasn’t trying to outwait anyone as nice as her trainers.
She could feel the tension slowly gathering inside her, an assurance that whoever was out there was waiting as well.
Where are you, Cullen?
The ice around her emotions threatened to crack when she couldn’t sense him, couldn’t feel him. Whatever she felt in that moment sent a chill up her spine, and panic threatened to break through the ice.
She felt maddened violence unchained. What the hell could that be?
Where was Cullen?
Even as that thought passed through her, the suddenness of the attack, when it came, shocked her.
The blow to her head wasn’t enough to knock her out. Instead she was thrown to the floor, her weapon falling from her hand as she fought to remain conscious.
A second later, harsh fingers gripped the hair at the back of her neck, dragging