The Forbidden Life of Alex Moore(9)

“But you’re not human? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”
He’d been looking ahead, scanning the gloom-filled trail. Now he turned his beautiful, unusual eyes on Lilly. They made her feel unsettled inside, like a leaf caught in a riptide.
He walked with shoulders raised against the cold, his arms tight against his body. He looked like the man next door. He looked like the man you’d never get close enough to know, no matter how hard you tried. A gust blew his dark hair across his forehead and tugged at the fleece of his jacket, but he didn’t look away. Lilly couldn’t.
“Yes,” he said. “That’s what I’m saying.”
His voice was tight. She’d forced a confession he hadn’t wanted to make. And yet, beneath his ire, she heard regret that settled around them like the silent snow. All Lilly knew about him was that he carried a big knife, had eyes like pennies in the bottom of a well, and he didn’t think he was human. No common ground existed between them. Yet in that moment, she felt as if they shared more than a bloody patch of snow and unanswerable questions.
Whoever he was, he didn’t intend to hurt her, but he didn’t belong here. Like the hellhounds she couldn’t see, Alex was from a different place. One forbidden to humans. One Lilly knew must be fraught with danger. A smart woman would take her dogs and run, and Lilly had always considered herself smarter than most.
But when Alex said, “We need to move faster,” Lilly didn’t counter with “Why don’t we go our separate ways?”
Instead, she picked up her pace.
    







 
    Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance by Jennifer Ashley, Alyssa Day, Felicity Heaton, Erin Kellison, Laurie London, Erin Quinn, Bonnie Vanak and Caris Roane
    
 


 
CHAPTER 3
They were near the bottom of the trail. In her mind, Lilly could see the bend up ahead and the sharp slope that led down to the road. She’d left her Range Rover—Amy’s Range Rover, (Lilly drove an economical Prius when she wasn’t carpooling with five dogs)—tucked up behind the giant boulder that marked the turn-off to the cabin.
The shadows had grown impossibly long and the sun hovered until the last moment before it fell behind the western ridges. Grainy dusk rushed out from the horizon and dropped into the canyons and gullies. The trees became dark giants and the cold, an enemy.
Anxiously, Lilly watched the snow coming down faster now. Thick and steady, it blustered around them, making her cheeks sting. Her feet were frozen, her skin numb. She was glad they’d reach the SUV soon, but she still didn’t know what she’d do when they got there.
Alex’s limp had grown more pronounced as they walked and his shoulder brushed against hers. Through the layers of coats and cold, she felt a spark that raced over her flesh and settled somewhere low and deep. How did he do that? Was it some otherworldly superpower?
The ground sloped sharply to the road below and Alex lost his balance. Lilly reached out to steady him, putting his arm over her shoulder and her hand around his waist. Even through the fleece coat, she could feel the steel bands of hard muscle. She might provide a bit of balance, but if he went down, she was going with him.
“How bad are you hurt, Alex?”
“I’m not hurt.”
“Then why are you limping?”
He immediately shifted away from her and stumbled to his knees. She reached to help him up and found the sleeves of his coat stiff and tacky with blood. How much had he lost? She took his face between her hands, the feel of his skin a shock to her system. His cheeks were icy.
“Alex, look at me.”
He raised his eyes and focused on her face, but it seemed an effort.
“Where’d you learn to shoot a rifle like that?” he asked, slurring the words.
“YouTube. Alex, where else are you hurt? Your leg and…”
“Arm. Shoulder. Fucker took a chunk out of my ribs.”
Lilly cursed softly, looking around as if for an answer. In the distance, a wolf obliged with a long, mournful serenade. At least she thought it was a wolf. It sounded far away, but what if she was wrong?
“We need to get inside,” Alex said, the words thick and slow. “Shelter.”
“You think?”
She moved behind him and heaved, helping him to his feet and then ducking under his arm again to get a grip on him. The dogs raced ahead as she and Alex navigated the steep slope to the dirt road and her vehicle, parked just where she’d left it. Thank God.
His bulk, gravity, balance—it all seemed to be working against them. Stubbornly, he tried to shrug off her support.