Page 32 of Protected By Her Mate

I sit back, contemplating him. “Because of what happened to your father?”

He thinks about it, then shrugs. “Partially, but also because she is who she is. Mom likes to do things alone and sometimes it gets her in trouble.”

Perhaps human offspring are wiser than they look. “She doesn’t seem to mind working with me,” I point out.

“Yeah,” he says, like I’ve made his point. “It’s weird. She’s been a loner since dad died, but she doesn’t mind working with you.” His eyes sweep my frame and he adds, “I don’t blame her. Working with a shifter is pretty dope.”

I relax, realizing the seven-year-old inquisition has ended. “Do you think it would be alright if I stayed the night?” I ask him seriously. “I don’t want your mom to be alone if she wakes up.”

“She has me,” he says quickly, frowning again.

“I know, but you have school tomorrow.” He starts to shake his head, so I continue, “School is just as important as a job. Your mom wouldn’t want you going in tired and unfed. I’ll stay with you tonight to make sure you guys are set for tomorrow. Would that be okay?”

He seems to think about it, then nods. “I guess so, but you’ll have to sleep on the couch.”

I had assumed as much. “Thank you, Luke.”

He stares at me openly and I wonder what he’s thinking. I don’t have long to find out. “Do you know how to work an air fryer?” he asks, and at my puzzled expression, adds, “Mom was going to make dino chicken nuggets and fries for supper.”

Chapter 13

Torched

CHARLIE

Iknow I’m dreaming, which means in theory I’m safe, but I can’t surface from the nightmare trapping me in its grip. I’m in a parking garage at night, trying to find my truck. I can hear someone behind me but when I turn around there’s no one there, just grey concrete walls, oil-stained parking stalls and a handful of vehicles.

I search and search my bottomless purse for my keys, but I can’t find them. As I walk, the lights flicker on and off. Dread builds up inside choking the breath from me.

“There’s no one here,” I whisper.

But I’m wrong. Catherine Grant is here somewhere.

I know it with every fiber of my being. Maybe if I can find her, I can save her.

Just ahead of me I see my truck, the chrome bumper shining in the flickering light.

I rush to the window, looking inside.

A hand slaps the window and I gasp, jumping back. Then a woman’s face appears. She’s alive! Her dark hair is shiny, her face animated as her lips move, her eyes dart around, her hand claws at her throat.

I step closer, gripping the door handle. “I’ll get you out of there!”

No matter how hard I yank I can’t get the door open.

As I watch, the woman’s face goes from healthy and pink to pale and grey, her vivid blue eyes clouding over. Her hair lays across her skull in lifeless streaks. Her lips are still moving.

Finally, the door handle gives and I’m able to yank it open. This time as Catherine falls, I grab hold of her, helping her to the ground.

She grips my shoulders in claw-like fingers, desperately pulling me to her. I tilt my head to hers so I can hear her desperate whisper.

“They made an example of me.”

“Who?” Our faces are inches apart. Instead of fear, I feel pity. I want to know who did this to her so I can make them pay.

“You know who.”

I finally surface from my dream, grabbing my throat and gasping.

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