A Little Night Muse(12)

                She flinched. When she pulled away, the edges of the veils                     separated, revealing bloody streaks.

                The water, the spark, everything faded as he took her arm                     again. “Miss, are you hurt? Where did this blood come from?” Fuck, now that he                     thought about it, where had she come from? His head                     seemed all hazy, but he forced himself to concentrate.

                Without touching her again, Josh used the mass of his body to                     steer her out of the kitchen mess. In the adjoining living room, an overstuffed                     leather couch faced the valley view. Bunco’s hoof prints had melted into dark                     circles in the snow, the only sign of life. No tire marks, no ski tracks, no                     sweep of helicopter blades pushing up snow. How had she gotten here?

                He herded her toward the couch. “Sit.”

                She did and when he took a half step back, she looked up at                     him, green eyes sparkling. Tears? God, he hoped not.

                Though she had recoiled from his touch before, she reached out                     and flattened her palm on his groin, just off center from the stamped bronze of                     his belt buckle. It was his turn to jump. “What—?”

                The intensity of her gaze pinned him as effectively as her                     hand. “Where is the Hunter?”

                Distracted again—hoo boy, was he distracted—by her hand so                     close to his fly, he shook his head and tried to pretend she wasn’t touching                     him. “Vaile and Imogene said they were going...somewhere. For...awhile.”                     Everything seemed vague lately. His body was reacting to the woman’s innocent                     touch as if he’d been alone forever...

                “What do you know of the Hunter?” Though her hand trembled, her                     tone held an irresistible insistence.

                But he reacted more to the fear she tried to hide—and the                     bloody bandages wrapped under the sleeve of her flimsy dress—than the demand in                     her voice. “Vaile is a good guy,” Josh said gently. “If you need a safe place to                     stay, he’ll give it to you.”

                She shook her head, and the smooth darkness of her hair slid                     forward over her shoulders. “There is only one place for me, and I can’t go                     back.”