sta

ring. I pulled the Defender over and killed the engine. The sudden silence was

dry pine needles. Leaning against the side of my truck, I pulled a small pair

out, a wide, triumphant grin on his face. He le

p to its axles in black, stinking mud. White smoke billowed from under its crumpled hood. The fro

d open with a groan of tortured metal. Keaton emerged

reen algae and dripping with foul-smelling ooze. A gash on his forehead bled f

th a furious roar. He stood there, ankle-deep in the swampy water, and slammed his fist again

g sight. This pathetic, mud-caked creature was a far cry from the polish

g out loud. "Best hunt I've been to in yea

It was a cough. Not a small, polite cough, but a deep, wracking,

ed himself against the car, his face a deathly shade of white. He brought a handkerchief to hi

n, his breath coming in

n it, I told you this was a bad idea." He rushed to Charles's s

. "Just... the cold air," he rasped,

ine. He looked like h

way, my eyes narrowed, studying him. The performance was flawless. The

ess state, was still sharper than a human's. And his heart was not fluttering like a dying bird's. It was beati

s fak

ogetic smile. It was a masterful piece of acting, but I could see somethi

y Defender and pulled out a sealed bottle of spr

y voice neutral.

rately slow and shaky. As he took it from me, h

d, my heart skipped a beat, and for a dizzying second, the world tilted on its axis. A stran

ned, tucking it behind my back to hide its

I saw a flicker of dark, possessive satisfaction in

murmured, his vo

of a helicopter's rotor blades grew loud

ow was

Julian a curt nod.

reeling. That touch. That feeling. It was so

tions. Especially not a distraction as complicated