Page 12 of Fanged Embrace

I wavered, gripping the metal bar with white-knuckled intensity.

“Laurie,” River spoke softly, a hush over the roar in my ears, “you’re safe here. I swear it.” Her bright eyes in that dim light looked honest. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

She waved a hand behind her and the other two fell back. The swirling shadows receded.

My breath came in ragged gulps. Every muscle in my body screamed to take off running, to kick and bite and scratch, but some deeper weariness rooted me in place. Slowly, painstakingly, my shaking arms lowered.

The makeshift weapon slipped from my grip, clattering to the floor. The sound reverberated, loud in the sudden stillness. My head felt light and airy, and I felt myself sway on my feet.

River let out a careful breath. Then slowly—ever so slowly—in tiny, careful increments, she crossed the last bit of space between us and rested her hands on my shoulders. Her warmth radiated through my jacket, and I flinched at the contact. But I didn’t lash out. I was caught up in her gaze, paralyzed by those ochre eyes.

“That’s good,” she murmured. “You’re all good.” Her voice stayed quiet, soothing.

Before I could register what was happening, she was guiding me to the floor, sinking down with me like we were both too tired to stand. I felt her arms circling me and couldn’t find it in me to fight. I melted all at once, overcome with fatigue that went right down to my bones.

My chest felt tight, my lungs starved for air, and I gasped out a sob into her shoulder as I buried my face in the crook of her neck. I shook uncontrollably, battered by adrenaline andbad memories I couldn’t fight—and this woman I barely knew rocked me gently in her arms.

The slight motion was cathartic, like I was floating in space, not crumpled on the dusty floor of a desecrated Ikea.

“Breathe,” she whispered, breath soft against my ear. “You’re safe. I promise.”

I wanted to deny it, to scream and wail thatnothingwas safe, but I couldn’t find my voice. I was overwhelmed, I was exhausted—and she was solid and sturdy and sure.

And no one had ever held me like that before.

7

River

Laurie was still trembling, her breath hitching in short, panicked gasps, but at least she was no longer swinging a metal bar at our heads.Progress, I guess?I kept my arms around her, rocking slightly, viscerally aware of the invisible thunderstorm that clung to her body like Dylan’s shadows.

She had calmed down, to some extent. Her fingers curled tightly into my jacket, knuckles whitening with the intensity of her grip, but she wasn’t pulling away. I chose to take that as a good sign.

Dylan and Amara stood a few feet off, watching with the identical expressions of two people who had no idea what the hell just happened.

“Uh…” Dylan began when I caught her eye over the top of Laurie’s head. “Do you know her?”

I shrugged, wary of spooking Laurie, and hissed out, “Kinda? It’s a long story.”

That didn’t help their confusion, but I wasn’t about to pause for a group discussion. Laurie’s panic had quieted into atrembling hush, but I could feel the tension buzzing under her skin. Getting her this far had felt like dismantling a bomb—cut one wrong wire and she would explode.

Amara cocked her head, watching me sway what was obviously a very stressed-out human being in my arms. “And she just… happened to be here?”

“That’s the part I’m still figuring out,” I muttered, still focused on soothing Laurie’s erratic breathing.

Laurie, for her part, seemed too exhausted to contribute any meaningful answers. Her whole body sagged in my grip, the fight drained out of her. She was jelly in my arms and her eyes were glassy, unfocused, staring at some point beyond me. I lifted a hand to stroke back her hair, and she choked out a sob at the slight touch.

I sighed, shifting my hold on her so her head lay flush against my chest. “We need to get moving,” I murmured. “Security’s bound to have heard all that commotion.”

Dylan folded her arms, clicked her tongue. “We’re not taking her with us?—”

“We can’t leave her here!” I raised my voice and then winced, glancing down at Laurie. But she barely registered the outburst. She was a vacant, dead weight in my arms. Something was… not quite right with her, though I’d known that from the moment I met her.

Dylan was still eyeing Laurie with suspicion, painted lips pulled into a scowl. “We can’t just?—”

“She’s coming with us.” I cut her off, already adjusting my grip on the teary-eyed woman in my arms and hauling myself to my feet.

I lifted Laurie, and my breath throttled in my throat when I registered just how light she was. Once I’d noticed that, I noticed a lot more: under her jacket and layers of padding, she was little more than skin and bone.