Page 27 of Cash

“There. A few minutes for the serum to make its way through your system, and we’ll get started.” There was color in her cheeks for the first time in a week.

“You’re excited by this, aren’t you?”

She shrugged with a rueful smile. “This is as close as I ever come to real excitement in my work, I guess. Finding out if I was on the right track all along. Knowing that I was right—when things actually work out, of course. It’s sort of like that scene in Frankenstein. You know what I mean. When the monster first comes to life.”

“Of course. It’s alive, it’s alive.”

“Right,” she smiled. “I can see how old Frankenstein got so caught up in his work and lost his mind a little. When you work, and you work, and there’s a single goal on the horizon, you tend to shut out everything else. It’s all-consuming. You might even lose your grip on what’s happening in your life, or the world at large. Your work is all that matters. You have to prove to yourself that you’re smart enough or capable enough to reach your goals.”

“What are your goals?”

“My goals?” Her eyes took an unfocused quality as she stared off into space, just above my head.

She was miles away from me by now, I knew. I wished I knew where she went—it seemed like she needed help. She wasn’t happy, there, at any rate. Her eyes went watery for a moment, until she blinked hard.

When she opened them again, she looked more herself. “My goals include watching you shift into whatever it is you shift into. I want to watch you shift with those shackles on.”

The dragon wasn’t satisfied. He claimed she was lying. Wanted me to tell her so. Would that I could. The dragon didn’t understand nuance, subtlety. Wanting to be sure not to hurt somebody who was on my side.

If she walked out and refused to come back, we’d be at square one—and there would be no guarantee of her keeping her mouth shut about us, either. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. An old adage, and a true one. We’d live in concern over her for the rest of our days.

I let it pass. She would never open up to me. Perhaps it was better she didn’t—once we were apart, I wouldn’t have to think about her anymore. Wouldn’t ask myself questions. Was she well, was she feeling like her old self again, was she happy. Did her troubles ever end, or had they only gotten worse. The less I knew about those troubles, the easier it would be to forget about her.

Now I was the one who was lying; the dragon grumbled inside my head.

I had never met a woman who worked her way into my soul the way Carissa had without so much as lifting a finger—but I knew my dragon would make life hell for me. He would remind me of the way she smelled, the way her pulse had quickened when she saw me shirtless and sweating. The way she’d grown flustered and averted her eyes. He knew she wanted me, and I knew we both wanted her. And she was going to slip through my fingers like sand, no matter how I tried to close them against her escape.

She cleared her throat, and the wall dropped between us again. “All right. I think we’ve given you enough time. Let’s see what you can do.”

It occurred to me that I should’ve taken off my clothes before attempting a shift. The image of how she would react to seeing me in front of her, completely naked, brought up a grin I tried hard to disguise.

“You’re ready?” I asked.

“Ready for anything.” Which was why she clasped her hands together and chewed her bottom lip until I was sure her teeth would break the skin.

She thought she could handle whatever she found because she was vaguely acquainted with a shifter in Florida. It was quaint.

I closed my eyes and allowed the shift to come over me. Yet instead of the usual feeling of relief, as the caged beast inside me released itself and stretched its legs—and wings—after a long imprisonment, there was resistance. Like trying to break out of a jar or bottle with thick glass, pushing and straining and struggling against it so I could breathe again, fly again, be again.

The dragon roared, and a cry of frustration escaped my lips and filled the room.

It was too much. I gave up, shoulders falling, beads of sweat lining my brow. “No go.” When my eyes opened, I found her staring raptly at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“It’s a start. Only a start. You know I’ll keep working on this.”

“I know you will. You’re Dr. Frankenstein, right? A little setback isn’t enough to discourage you.” I held out my wrists, the heavy shackles all the heavier because of what they represented.

She came to me with the key held out in one hand and a sad smile on her beautiful face.

“Wow. Dr. Frankenstein. I guess I’ve been called worse.”

We both chuckled as she unlocked the iron cuffs, then set them aside.

I didn’t think before I did it. If I had, I wouldn’t have moved. It might have been the dragon guiding me, still at the forefront of my consciousness, a little closer to the surface than normal. I reached for her, closing my hand around her wrist like the shackles had just been around mine.

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