When he was finally reduced to little more than a twitch, Lyssa crawled up his side and flopped across his body. She felt slick and hot, and wonderful. Especially when he made a low groaning sound that traveled from his chest into hers.
“Oh, my God,” he said.
Lyssa began to laugh, and Eddie rolled over on his side, making her do the same. He hooked his leg over her hip and slid his strong arm under her arm across her back, hitching her hard against him.
“Twenty-four/seven,” he said, looking into her eyes.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. “What?”
Eddie kissed her, slow and gentle.
“Twenty-four/seven,” he murmured against her mouth. “I would stick with you. I would look over my shoulder with you. Every day, for the rest of my life.”
Her breath caught. “Wow. I really was good.”
He laughed and buried her against him. Lyssa melted into his embrace, savoring his heat and strength, and his soft, rumbling voice.
“Rest,” he said. “I’ll make sure nothing happens.”
Well,” she mumbled, suddenly shy. “If you’re the something that happens, that’s okay.”
He laughed again, more quietly, and pulled the sleeping bag over their bodies. She knew he didn’t feel the cold, and neither did she, but it felt like a cocoon, a nest, a real bed. . and she liked that.
Twenty-four/seven, she thought, closing her eyes and listening to his heartbeat.
I could love that.
For once, Lyssa did not dream. She didn’t even know she slept until she opened her eyes, and found herself in an entirely different position than the one she’d started in.
She lay on her back, sleeping bag partially tugged down. Eddie was on his side beside her, propped up on his elbow. At first she thought he had been watching her sleep, but his other hand was stroking her right arm. Just his fingertips, light and easy, tracing circles against her crimson scales.
Lyssa’s first instinct was to pull away, but his gaze was thoughtful and soft, and she forced herself to remain still.
“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said.
“I’m not sure you did,” she replied. “What are you. . thinking?”
He pressed his palm flat against her muscled forearm, and the contrast between human skin and her scales was stark. “I was wondering how this happened.”
She was distracted a moment by the round burn scars on the back of his hand. “I’ve never had an easy time shape-shifting. For some, it’s as simple as breathing. But. . stress. . at the moment of a shift can. . make some aspects permanent.”
Eddie went quiet. “Did this happen when your parents died?”
“Yes,” she whispered, and looked away from him. “I was trying to fight.”
He kissed her shoulder. “At least you tried.”
Something in his voice made her turn back to face him. He was looking at his scarred hand.
Round, dime-sized scars. Dark, slightly ridged on the edges. At least five of them, but some were bunched close together, so it was hard to be certain.
Sorrow filled her, and horror. “Why would anyone do that to you?”
Eddie stilled. . and then slowly, carefully, pulled away from her. Lyssa watched him, recognizing the sudden flatness of his gaze, the tightness of his mouth. How many times had she given him the same look when he asked her questions she didn’t want to answer?
He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. Lyssa, after a moment, relaxed on her side, cushioning her head on her arm as she watched his jaw flex and his eyes go dark with memory.
“When my mother called. . do you remember that man I mentioned?” Eddie held up his hand. “He did this.”
“No one stopped him?”
“No one knew. I would bandage up my hand and say I hurt it at school. He made me promise not to tell. He said he would. . hurt my mother and sister.”
Lyssa let out her breath. “Does this have to do with the man you killed?”
A grim, bitter smile touched his mouth. “Shoe’s on the other foot now. Next time you don’t want to answer my questions, I’ll remember this moment.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve never talked about this.”
“It hurts too much.”
“Don’t forget the shame.” Lyssa saw the glitter of unshed tears in his eyes. “I could have. . done things so differently, if I’d just been braver.”
Lyssa’s heart broke for him — and for herself. “I understand.”
He turned his head, finally looking at her — grief in his eyes, such terrible pain. “I know you do.”
Chapter Seventeen
“My dad died when I was ten,” Eddie said, feeling hollow when he said those words. “He was a really good guy, but cancer got him. He was a little older than my mom. I guess, in his late forties, or early fifties. She adored him, but. . a couple years after that, she got lonely. She started going out with some guys from the bank where she worked. And then she met Matthew Swint.”
Lyssa shifted closer, and Eddie wrapped his arm around her, taking comfort in her presence. He couldn’t believe he had told her this much already, but it felt okay. For the first time, safe. He could say the words without his throat locking up. He wanted to say them.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life telling you my secrets, he thought, but instead of being filled with fear or unease, all he felt was relief.
“Matthew was big, like my dad, and a little older. I guess there were some other physical similarities. He was a good mechanic. He owned a garage north of San Francisco. I liked going there at first. He taught me about cars, which. . came in handy later.”
Eddie covered his eyes with his other hand. “He began molesting my sister about three months after my mom started dating him.”
Lyssa sucked in her breath but said nothing. For which he was very grateful.
“She didn’t tell anyone,” he said, his voice finally breaking. “Maybe for the same reason I didn’t tell anyone about the cigarette burns, or the. . the humiliations. I don’t know. We never got a chance to talk about that.”
“Your mother. .” she said.
All he could do was shake his head, as grief knotted his throat. Tears burned, too many to hold in. He shut his eyes and felt them break free, rolling hot down the sides of his face.
Lyssa made a soft sound, and her lips brushed his skin. Kissing away his tears.
It was too much. Too gentle. Too tender. Eddie turned over on his side, away from her — curling into a tight ball as despair shuddered through him. Lyssa immediately pressed against his back, her arms sliding under his, over his chest. Between them, heat, fire. . soothing away the worst of the tremors.
He found her hand, and held it tightly. “She never noticed. I really don’t think she had a clue. She was at work so much, and she. . trusted him.”
“But there must have been signs with the two of you.”
“I don’t know.” Eddie bowed his head even more. “My mom and I have never discussed it.”
Another scar. Another resentment. Unfair, maybe, because he could have pushed the issue and opened up. . but then, so could she. And both he and his mother had always danced around her failure to protect them. And his failure, as well, to protect Daphne.
Lyssa kissed his shoulder. “Did your sister tell you?”
“No. I walked in on. .” He stopped, as memories burned through him, so offensive and terrible that he remembered, too, why he never talked about this.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, feeling ill. “I can’t. .”
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
He dragged down a deep breath. “I loved my sister, but knowing that I knew what was happening. . humiliated her. She couldn’t look me in the eye after that. And I. . promised myself that I wouldn’t let it happen again. But before I could come up with a plan, Matthew. . strangled her to death. I found him and his brother trying to hide her body.”