Charming the Beast (Purgatory 3)

“According to his tests, you’re a werewolf.”

She flinched. “Then why don’t I change?”

“The full moon hasn’t been up since you rose.”

Rose…what a nice way of saying came back from the dead.

“Let’s see what happens then.”

“And my scent?”

“Vampires can’t detect it and neither can humans. Eric didn’t even realize what was happening with you, not until I had to throw those other wolves against the wall.”

She had to let go of her death grip on the bedcovers. “What does it mean?”

“Probably something very bad.”

Fabulous. “That’s the story of my life.” She turned away from him. Closed her eyes. “Stay on your side of the bed, wolf, understand?”

“I hear you.”

She tried to slow her breathing. Tried to pretend that Connor wasn’t right beside her. Tried to pretend that she wasn’t afraid of sleep.

“I hope the fire doesn’t come,” Chloe whispered.

“What?”

But she didn’t speak again.

Chapter Three

Chloe was asleep. Her breathing was deep and even and she was on top of him.

Every muscle in Connor’s body was tight with tension. He’d been staying on his side of the bed, playing by the rules she’d thrown out, but, ten minutes into her little sleep routine, and Chloe had slid closer to him. Before he could do more than realize he was in trouble, she’d been on him. Her arms were draped around him and her head was snuggled over his heart.

Maybe he should have pushed her back to her side of the bed. If she woke up and saw them that way, Chloe would freak. But she wasn’t awake right then, and she felt….good… against him. Warm and soft.

He hadn’t exactly had a lot of softness in his life.

Not with his jerk of a father. A man who’d believed in giving as much pain as possible. A man who’d murdered Connor’s mother, who’d made his life hell for so many years.

Until that old bastard was killed in Purgatory. Right before Ian would have killed Connor, his father had been taken out.

His hand lifted. He…stroked Chloe’s hair. For the first time in his life, he almost felt a sense of peace slide through him. It was wrong. He shouldn’t be feeling peaceful, not with danger all around, not with Chloe so close but—

I think Chloe is the one giving me peace.

That didn’t make a bit of sense to him.

Still, he stroked her hair. He—

“Help me…” Her whisper. Low. Pain-filled. “It…hurts…”

“Chloe?”

“F-fire…stop the fire…” Then she shuddered against him.

His arms curled tighter around her. “Chloe, wake up.”

But she wasn’t waking.

He slid her to the side, settling her on the pillow there. He could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. She was crying in her sleep, whimpering as if she were being attacked.

This shit wasn’t happening.

He leaned over her. “Chloe!” Connor snapped out her name. “Wake up, now!”

She didn’t.

His fingers curled around her shoulders. “Chloe, wake up.” Her tears were cutting into him. He hated to see them sliding down her cheeks. “You’re having a bad dream.” He shook her once, gently. “Wake up, baby, wake—”

Her eyes flew open. She stared up at him, and then she screamed.

He was pretty sure that his ear drums nearly burst, but he managed to smile down at her. “Glad you’re back with me.”

“Get off me!” Chloe shoved against him.

Connor moved back, but he didn’t go far. He watched her, wary now.

Her hands were trembling as she touched her cheeks. She swiped away the tears. “I told you not to come on my side of the bed,” Chloe muttered. “Did you listen? No…”

“Tell me about the dream.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “What dream?”

Seriously? “The dream that had you crying. The dream about fire, Chloe.”

She jumped from the bed. Paced to the window. Stood in front of the blinds. “I wasn’t dreaming about fire.” She tucked her hair behind her left ear.

His eyes narrowed. He’d been watching Chloe carefully over the last few days. She’d just given him one of her “tells”—when she lied, she tucked her hair behind her left ear.

He rose, but stayed near the bed. “You said ‘fire’ and you asked for help.”

She didn’t look at him. She lifted the blinds. Stared out into the night. “You’re mistaken. I didn’t—”

He could hear the whistle of the bullet coming. Rushing through the air. Coming so fast—and heading right for Chloe. Using his enhanced speed, he rushed toward her, he grabbed Chloe—

The bullet cut across his arm.

He pushed Chloe to the floor and covered her with his body. Her breath sawed out as she trembled beneath him.

“What in the hell just happened?” Chloe asked, her voice hushed.

“Someone took a shot at you.” Only…that hadn’t been a silver bullet. Not a wooden one, either. He knew how both of those bullets felt.

“But no one knows I’m here!”

“Correction, no one knew…then you went for a drive into town.” And they must have been followed back. Sonofabitch. Connor had tried to be so careful.

I wasn’t careful enough.

“Connor, I’m scared.”

Those words pierced right into him. He lifted his head, just a bit, certainly not enough to present a target to whoever was out there shooting at them. Connor stared into Chloe’s eyes. “Don’t be. No one is going to hurt you.” Not on his watch.

Because they’d have to go through him in order to get her.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted something gleaming on the wooden floor. He reached over and his fingers curled around the object—not a bullet, not a regular one anyway. It was… “A tranq,” he muttered. “Hell, they’re trying to take you in alive.”

He could practically feel her fear filling the room.

“We have to get out of here, Chloe,” Connor told her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to be easy. “We’re sitting ducks in this cabin. I’m not going to wait for them to close in on us.”

“I thought this place was supposed to be safe! It’s a safe house!”

And it should have been safe. The place was isolated, so he should have heard the approach of any unwelcome guests. He hadn’t, though. So that means paranormals are outside. And since those paranormals were hunting Chloe…werewolves.