On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(32)
Author: Gena Showalter

He hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten in his truck. There was no radio to block the silence, only the humming of the pavement under his tires and her too-fast breathing.

Viviana didn’t know what to say. "Thank you" seemed a bit inadequate. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if she should thank him at all. For all she knew, he’d sent those things after her so he could save her and impress her enough to let him have the gadget he wanted.

"Shouldn’t we go back? Call the police? Or animal control?"

"No."

"Where are you taking me?"

"South."

"South where?"

"I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I just wanted to keep moving so the truck would warm up. You were shaking."

She still was, though she wasn’t nearly as cold now as she had been, thanks to his leather jacket and the delicious heat that was pouring out of the truck’s vents. She pulled off her cotton gloves and held her hands close to the dash to warm them.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked.

She looked at him to see if it was some kind of joke. He wasn’t smiling. "Are you serious? We nearly died and you want to eat?"

He lifted one thick shoulder in a shrug. "We’re still alive. Gotta keep our strength up."

"I’d rather talk about what happened back there."

Guilt flattened his mouth. "That was my fault."

"You brought those things with you?"

He spared her a quick, appalled glance. "Hell, no. I’d never do that. But I think it’s my fault they found you."

"Care to explain that?"

He shook his head. "It’s a long story, but the short version is too shocking to blurt out."

"I’m tough, Mr. Etan. I think I can take it."

"Neal," he said. "Call me Neal. And tough or not, I’m not sure you need another shock so soon after being attacked by sgath."

"How about you let me judge whether or not I’m able to handle more. I assure you my constitution is not so delicate as you might think."

He grunted his disagreement as he pulled into a fast-food restaurant and parked. "If it’s like the rest of you, it is."

Indignation was swiftly burning away all traces of the fear she’d felt earlier. "I think I should get out here and call a cab. Thank you for saving me. you’ll understand if I prefer never to see you again." That last part was a bit of a lie. She’d enjoy seeing him as often as possible. He was the epitome of the term eye candy, but that didn’t mean she would indulge.

She unfastened her seat belt and reached for the door handle.

Neal moved so fast she didn’t even have time to yelp. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back across the leather seat until she was practically in his lap. She felt the hardness of his body behind her, the heat of his big hands sinking through her skirt.

When he spoke, she could feel his breath brush past the top of her ear. "If you leave me, you probably won’t live to see sunrise."

Her insides began to quiver, and she wasn’t sure if it was his extreme prediction or the feel of his hands on her that caused the odd reaction. That resonant vibration was back, streaming through her, pooling in her belly, and expanding to fill up all the empty spaces.

"Don’t be ridiculous," she said, her voice shaking as much as her body.

"I’m not. Those sgath found you once; they can do it again."

"You said that was your fault. If I’m not with you, it won’t happen again."

"Wrong."

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she felt his mouth make the briefest, fluttering contact with her ear. She shivered, though she wasn’t sure if it was his touch that made it happen, or merely the thought of him touching her that did it.

Either way, she wasn’t going to sit here and be manhandled. "Let me go."

Slowly, he released her hips, dragging his fingers over her wool skirt so slowly it was almost a caress. "Please don’t try to run," he told her, the warning ringing clearly in his tone. "I can’t let that happen."

Viviana scooted back across the seat as far as she could go. She faced him, determined to watch those too-fast hands of his. "Why not?"

"I nee—" He cut off whatever he’d been going to say and started again. "We still have the matter of the gadget to settle. I can’t go home without it. My friend’s life is at stake."

She gave him a steady stare. "So is yours if you grab me again like that."

A small smile played about his bold mouth, giving her the sudden urge to reach out and see if his lips were as soft as they looked or as hard as the rest of him. "Fair enough."

She straightened her skirt and smoothed her hands over her hair to make sure her bun hadn’t come undone in all the excitement. "Let’s start with this friend of yours. How is it you think my artifact will help?"

"It’s some kind of healing device. My friend is suffering from a progressive kind of paralysis.

Without this gadget, he’ll die. I won’t let that happen."

"Stop it with the thinly veiled threats, will you? If I lived through those horrible creatures, I can certainly live through whatever you have to offer."

"Don’t forget I was the one who killed them."

Which reminded her . . . "Your sword. Where did it go?"

He patted his side. "It’s here. You just can’t see it."

Viviana snorted. Her mother would have frowned in censure at the noise, which brought about a wave of grief and loneliness. She missed Mother so much—even her annoying parts.

Viviana closed her eyes and suffered through the unwanted emotions. Her heart had been through a workout tonight, and she couldn’t find the strength to keep everything in check like normal.

"Hey. What’s wrong?" asked Neal gently a moment before his hand settled on hers.

An effervescent tingling wove its way through her arm and into her chest. It expanded into a plume of warmth that drove away all thoughts of grief and sadness. For a single, shining moment, Viviana felt safe and happy. Like she belonged.

She’d spent her entire life standing outside, looking in. She’d never been like other children. As an orphan, she’d begun life as an outcast—an infant no one wanted. Her mother had adopted her before any of Viviana’s memories had begun to form, but it hadn’t seemed to save her from the knowledge that she was different.

Mother said she was special, but Viviana knew that was simply a euphemism for someone who didn’t fit in.

"I’m fine," she managed to say.

"You don’t look fine. You look like you just found out someone killed your kitten."