"And what did Emma say to that?"
"She didn't argue."
Letty arched her white eyebrows. "Well, isn't that something?" she murmured. "I thought for sure Emma would have said she'd handle any threat on her own."
"I bit him," Emma said quietly, her gaze locked with her aunt's. "He's dangerous—and going to get worse."
"Then it seems to me that, before things get worse, you've got some explaining to do." Letty straightened up. "Maybe you can get started on that while I pack."
Emma sighed, and watched Nathan step aside to let her aunt pass into the hallway. Of course Letty was right. But knowing was easier than doing. Knowing was always easier than doing.
But that was why she'd come back, wasn't it? There were things to do, and to explain.
She just hadn't realized she'd be starting this early.
"You might as well change now, too," Nathan said, his deference going as easily as it had come. His fear had passed, too. And his anger. In their place was speculation. His eyes narrowed as he assessed her from head to toe. "I'll need your clothes as evidence. It's unlikely that you'll be getting them back."
"That's fine." Emma hooked her fingers beneath the hem of the blood-stained sweater, and paused. "You're going to watch?"
"I will if you take them off here where I can see you."
In answer, she pulled the sweater over her head. He'd been teasing her, she knew. But now his smile froze in place as Emma took off her t-shirt and threw it on top of her sweater. Then she began to shimmy out of her jeans.
She heard his approach, the racing of his heartbeat. His hands flattened on the table on either side of her hips, closing her in with his wide shoulders and tall frame. "Stop it, Emma."
The growl rumbling up from her chest stole her response. She kicked the jeans free of her feet, and stood in front of him in her bra and panties.
Nathan's face darkened; his breathing deepened. "We got along before, pretending we could just be friends. I can't do that now, not after that phone call, not after hearing you scream and not knowing—" He bit off his words. His throat worked and he leaned in, forcing her back against the table. "So you should think a little before stripping off in front of me."
Off balance, she grabbed onto his biceps to steady herself. "I've thought more than a little. I've been thinking about you for five years."
"Not hard enough, obviously." He backed out of her grip. "Because for five years, you've been up in Seattle."
She crossed her arms over the scratchy lace of her bra. "You haven't exactly been burning up the highway between here and there."
He stared at her for a long moment before he turned toward the door, shaking his head. "You always ask the one question I don't have an answer to."
"I didn't ask anything."
"Yes, you did. Which suitcase do you need?"
She blinked. "The small one."
She listened to the heavy tread of his footsteps on the front porch, then to the snow crunching beneath his boots as he walked to the truck.
Winter in Pine Bluffs. Emma knew the summers better. When she was sixteen, her mother had sent her to stay with Letty over summer vacation, arguing that time away from the city would do her good. Emma had chosen to come the next six years. Nathan had only been part of the reason, because her mother had been right—time in Pine Bluffs had done her good. She loved the forests with their thick mats of pine needles over red earth, loved the town with its three stoplights and not a single chain restaurant.
So she'd visited, first in high school and then throughout college, fully intending to make it a permanent move after she'd earned her degree. But she'd changed her plans, that last summer.
Apparently Nathan had been thinking of that summer too, and the hike they'd taken around the lake, the tension simmering between them. "Your leg didn't scar," he said, setting her case on the table.
Automatically, Emma glanced down at her right calf. Smooth skin stretched over muscle that, five years ago, had been mangled, bleeding. "It turned me into a werewolf. So I heal faster now."
His short burst of laughter was exactly what she'd expected. No, she couldn't tell him straight out. She'd have to prepare him, so that he could more easily accept the unbelievable. After dropping Aunt Letty and Emma at his house, Nathan would have to return the highway and help Osborne go over the scene at the Jeep. It would be a simple thing to follow him in wolf form and offer help...and then hope he didn't shoot her, as he had the werewolf who'd attacked her.
A lead bullet between the eyes killed a werewolf just as easily as it did a man; unfortunately, death hadn't changed him back to his human form. If it had, she might have known what was happening to her. She might have known where the cravings came from, and why she'd woken up naked in the woods just outside Nathan's bedroom window.
But she'd probably have been just as frightened, and run just as fast.
"Your Jeep was packed full," he said, and she could feel his gaze on her as she unzipped her suitcase. "Are you staying a while?"
"Forever, probably."
"Why now?"
She stepped into her jeans. "Aunt Letty's getting older, there's an opening for a science teacher at the high school, and I need a place to run."
His eyebrows drew together. "Are you in trouble?"
"Not a place to run to. A place to run. The city isn't good for that."
His frown remained, but he only nodded. Emma pulled on a sweater as Letty came back into the kitchen, bundled in her coat and knitted cap. Daisy, the yellow Labrador who'd been Letty's companion for as long as Emma could remember, had ventured downstairs and now sat at Letty's heel. The dog's body was taut, shaking. That was another reason Emma had left. But she'd since learned that, with time, a dog would get over its instinctive fear of her. It just took a lot of dog biscuits.
Letty's steely gaze landed on Emma's face. Emma shook her head.
An aging aunt, a job, a place to run. All true. And Nathan was another reason—but she couldn't tell him that until after she showed him the rest.
The snow let up just before dawn. Nathan walked the highway shoulder, sweeping his flashlight over the ground, hoping for even a foot of tire track that hadn't been filled in. Emma had helped narrow down the type of vehicle, but a matching tread would go further in court.
Two hundred yards from her Jeep, he gave up. Turning back, he saw Osborne standing beside the deputy vehicle, lifting his hand. Nathan waved him on. There was nothing left here. He'd have the Jeep towed into town, and the snow and the plows would erase the rest.
Then he'd spend a good portion of the morning bucking through the logging roads that turned off the main highway between here and Pine Bluffs, searching for the route Emma's attacker had used. Cold, boring work, which would give him too much time to spend in his head. This meant he'd probably spend a good portion of the morning obsessing over Emma.
And wishing that he was with her in his old bedroom, in that old double bed heaped high with blankets, instead of trudging through the freezing backwoods.
He glanced into her Jeep as he passed it. An inch of white snow covered the driver's seat, and the black powder from the fingerprinting kit dusted the door handles.
Not much hope there, either. Emma had been certain her assailant had been wearing leather gloves.
Yet she'd still managed to bite through the gloves hard enough that his blood had splashed all over her. Terror lent her strength.