He was a coward.

Shane clenched his teeth so tightly his jaw ached as he navigated another slick curve in the road. Nadia’s tense, withdrawn silence was nothing less than torment and nothing less than he deserved.

He knew he had to explain, but where the hell could he begin? You see, I pissed you off on purpose because I don’t trust myself. And it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the dead woman whose shirt you’re wearing. That would end well. He’d be lucky if she didn’t knock him out cold and roll him into the nearest ditch.

The sky had been blue for much of the morning, but now it looked gray and overcast. Next to him, Nadia shivered. “Is there another storm coming?”

“Maybe.” Definitely, but the last thing he wanted was to scare the hell out of her if they didn’t manage to get to shelter.

A nod and she turned to look out the window. “I’ll make do.”

More than anything, she sounded numb. Resigned to the hell that stretched out before her.

“Look,” he began. “Can we talk about last night?”

He heard her heartbeat jump. She gave no indication, simply continued to stare at the snow. “Of course, if you want.”

“I don’t think we have a choice.” They couldn’t have it hanging over their heads. He couldn’t have it, even though it was entirely his fault.

“We had a misunderstanding,” she said, voice stiff. “We wanted different things. I’m not sure there’s anything either of us can say to change that.”

“I took the easy way out,” he confessed. “That shit I pulled last night wasn’t about you, but it was easier to let you think it was. So I did, and I’m sorry.”

“It occurred to me.” She slanted a look at him, piercing and angry. “It even occurred to me that you might have thought you were protecting me, though I’d prefer your disregard to misplaced condescension.”

He swallowed every argument or rationalization that rose. “Understood.”

“Is it?” Her hands came to rest on her knees, and he’d spent enough time with her to know that if her mittens hadn’t prevented it, she would have laced her fingers together until her knuckles turned white. “Do you understand the depth of the insult when a man decides he deserves to choose the form your pain takes?”

Don’t, Shane. Don’t— “What makes you think it was about your pain at all?”

She paused. Tilted her head. “You did.”

“Well, it wasn’t.”

“All right.” The momentary spark fizzled, turning her voice numb again. “I’m sorry to have caused you pain. It won’t happen again.”

He didn’t have time to argue, not if he was going to keep them alive, especially in uncertain weather. He needed his focus, needed—

He caught a flash of something, right angles through the steady snow. A sign of some sort, still standing, though the letters had long since worn away. “I think there might be a stopover cabin up ahead.”

Nadia perked up a little. “Do you think it will have a bathtub?”

“Some do. Standing showers, at least.”

Her wistful sigh filled the truck’s cab. “Do you think…”

The truck lurched, and Shane gritted his teeth as he carefully righted it. “Do I think?”

“It’s not important.”

The drive was gravel, not quite as slick as the cracked and damaged blacktop of the winding road. “Spit it out, Nadia.”

“I’d thought we could stay an extra night here.” Her fingers curled around the seat. “But getting to the border as quickly as possible should be our priority. It was a passing thought.”

He glanced at the sky again and shook his head. “We may not be able to leave before then.”

“I see.” She kept her voice calm, but she couldn’t hide her fear. He heard it in the pounding of her heart, could almost smell it, acrid and sharp, in the cab of the truck.

He spoke without thinking. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know.” No hesitation, no quaver or change in tone that would indicate a lie. “I think I’ll always be afraid of the storms. Cowardly for a warrior, I suppose.”

The cabin came into view, a squat, square structure with a heavy-looking door and no windows. It looked solid, provided it was empty. There were no vehicles or tracks, but the snow was fresh and still accumulating. Hard to tell, especially if someone had pulled around back or into the surrounding forest to hide their presence.

Shane tugged at his door handle. “It’ll be fine.”

Nadia didn’t respond. She pushed open her door and slid out into the drive. Snow came to her knees and continued to fall from the sky in fat flakes that gathered on the hand she held aloft. Surrounded by cold and ice, which usually left her shivering, she looked strangely pensive. “It feels different here.”

“Different how?” He hurried to walk in front of her. At least he could break a path to the door and keep her from floundering around.

When he looked back, she was still standing there, her hand up, her eyes slightly unfocused. He said her name, and she started and brushed the snowflakes from her hand. “Odd. It feels odd.”

The hair on the back of his neck lifted. “Odd like dangerous?”

“No.” She reached his side and actually smiled. “No, it feels…welcoming.”

They could be near a spring or some other pocket of energy that would fuel her magic. “That’s good, right?”

“If we’re going to be trapped here—” she shrugged, “—it won’t be as dangerous for me if the earth isn’t quite as draining.”

Only one way to answer that. “Come on.”

The door had been chained and padlocked, and Shane rattled it with a curse. “We’ll have to break this.”

Nadia stripped off her mittens and touched the padlock with her fingertips. “Old-fashioned,” she murmured, then closed her eyes.

With a whispered syllable, her hand began to glow. She dug her teeth into her lower lip, concentration furrowing her brow. Underneath his feet, the world seemed to stir, power rising with an almost tangible sleepiness. It circled, brushing over him, and focused on Nadia as if the earth itself was welcoming her.

The chain holding the door shut crumbled, and the padlock hit the ground with a thump. Nadia jerked her hand back and frowned. “I suppose that works.”

He stared at the sundered metal. “Did you even mean to do that?”

“I meant to weaken the lock.” An admission, one she didn’t sound entirely pleased to make. “The earth is awake. It doesn’t feel malicious, just…eager.”

It didn’t feel that way to him. Normally, he would have been glad not to battle the awakening beast, but their circumstances made it impossible not to worry about the seemingly dead earth beneath him. “I don’t feel anything.”

“And I feel too much.” She pushed the door open. “I wonder if something happened here that changed the flow of magic. There are rituals that can be performed, or sometimes, in periods of great upheaval, a witch can bind herself to the earth.”

The front room was filled with equipment of some kind, covered with dusty sheets of plastic. Shane peeled back one edge to expose a cart with a computer terminal and a microscope. “Not a cabin, after all.”

“No.” The fear was back, her heart pounding, her breathing too fast. She lifted another piece of plastic and uncovered a pair of smooth silver collars. “Not a cabin.”

A research station, maybe just like the one she’d run from, except this one was dead. Quiet. “There’s no one here, Nadia. No one but you and me.”

“And the ghosts.” She reached out, her fingers hovering over the collar, but she seemed reluctant to touch it. “Maybe that’s what I feel in the earth. It wants to protect me.”

He cupped her elbow in his hand. “The bulk of the facility must be underground. We need to look for access and find the control center. Maybe we can get some power in here.” It would be better than the pitch-dark that would descend when they closed the front door behind them.

“I can—” The light formed before she got her hand up, a cheerful glowing ball a foot across. The power seemed to dance, flickering in yellows and reds, like firelight across her skin.

She pursed her lips, clearly bemused. “It’s like a puppy that’s trying to please me. I’ve never felt anything quite like it.”

Definitely not magic the human scientists would have courted, even if they’d been able. “Maybe that’s why they left. Hard to control test subjects who have that kind of magic at their beck and call.”

Nadia began to explore the room, the ball of light bobbing behind her as she moved. “It’s a trade-off. In the north, we’re easy to control, but we don’t last long. Building here, on a pocket of power, might have seemed like a solution, but I’d wager the first witches they brought here banded together and attuned themselves to the earth.”

With potentially disastrous results—at least for the scientists. “Good for them.”

The second door revealed a set of stairs leading down. Nadia stepped away and glanced at him. “Did you want to look for whatever is necessary to turn on the power? I’m not sure I’d recognize it even if I found it.”

She obviously didn’t want to descend into the darkness, so Shane pulled his LED flashlight from his pocket. “I’ll find it. Will you be okay staying up here?”

“I’ll be fine. I can bring in some supplies, before the weather turns worse.”

He tensed at the thought of her outside alone, but he nodded. “Better to hurry. If I don’t find something in ten minutes, I’ll come back up, and we’ll make do.”

“Thank you, Shane.” Her smile looked ragged around the edges. “If this is like the place where they kept me…the cells are underground. I’d prefer to stay upstairs, if I can.”

“Sure.” The normally bright flashlight barely seemed to penetrate the darkness as he descended the stairs.

The lower floor opened into a wide hall lined with doors, each with a plain black sign engraved with white letters. Atmospheric Science. Environmental Monitoring. Energy Analysis.

He made his way down the hall, each step falling with an odd thud and squeak on the slick tile. Finally, near the end, he found a door labeled with red letters instead.

Maintenance.

Shane turned the wheel to disengage the rotating lock, grunting when the neglected mechanism groaned and squealed. The door shuddered and swung open, revealing a cavernous room with pipes and rusted catwalks and a thousand looming shadows.

“This place is creepy as fuck,” he muttered, mostly to break the silence as he picked his way through the maze of equipment. He was familiar enough with machinery to recognize some of it—evaporators and boilers, mostly—but some was utterly beyond his experience.

Oh well. If he couldn’t get the power running, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. They had food and water, and the building provided excellent shelter. They could easily ride out the storm, especially with Nadia’s magic.

He’d expected to feel uncomfortable in the face of her increased power, but instead all he felt was relief. It seemed perfect—this place where she could draw strength from the earth without that same power sapping his humanity.

The diffuse, eerily blue beam of his light flashed past a control panel along the back wall, and Shane laughed. Solar controls, not so different from the ones at his home. As long as the cells were still operable and connected, he could have them up and running in minutes.

Perfect.

***

With power came the opportunity for hot water. The research station had several bedrooms and a set of barracks-style rooms filled with cots. Each had a bathroom, and Shane hadn’t seemed insulted by her urgent need to claim one of them for her own.

Of course, hot water didn’t simply appear. She twisted the knob and flinched away from the icy spray. Science, not magic, which meant she had to wait for the water to heat. It was tempting to trace the pipes to their source and speed the process along with a spell or two, but the power all but sparking at her fingertips made it clear she had a more pressing concern.

Leaving the water running, she spread a towel on the tile floor and settled in a comfortable position, legs crossed, hands resting on her knees. It took only a few moments to drop into a half trance, one that left her open to the flow of magic but protected from its power—or so she thought.

Something slammed into her hard enough to make her sway. Wild energy, so strong it was almost sentient. It spun around her, brushing over her bare skin and teasing at the ends of her hair.

Eager, like she’d told Shane, but worried too.

Now she understood why. Witches had been brutalized here. No doubt some of them had died. At least one of them had spilled blood and begged the earth for help, and his or her death would have sealed the bond. Nothing so formal as a spell, but with blood and death, intent carried more weight than ritual.

“I’m here,” she whispered, turning her palms upright. “I’m here, but of my own will.”

danger-monster-run-safe

Not words, not quite, though they tickled at her ears as if she could hear them. How many witches had died here? How many had taken their last breaths and left parts of themselves behind?

Enough to make the earth as frantic as a child concerned with a favorite toy. The image almost made her smile as she shook her head. “I am safe. The monsters are gone.”

hurt-tired-power

Her skin prickled as magic washed over her, so much, so fast that she was surprised her hair wasn’t standing on end. Weakness vanished. Exhaustion disappeared. Energy and life pulsed inside her, more than she’d had before her kidnapping, more than she’d ever felt except during the rowdiest summer solstice celebrations.

So much and the earth still pushed, trying to feed her more, until her nerves were overloaded and light sparked from her fingers as the power sought an outlet. Nadia slapped her hands together and whispered the words to the light spell just to give the excess magic somewhere to go.

A dozen spheres appeared, floating around the bathroom and bathing it in a rainbow of color that reflected in the mirrors in a dizzying array. The water had begun to run hot, and steam softened the glow until it felt like a wild jungle with flickering lights. A fantasyland so beautiful she almost wanted to share it with Shane.

Nadia laughed, and her pleasure seemed to dim the earth’s anxiousness. Leaning forward, she pressed both hands to the cool tile. “Thank you. I’m safe, I’m healthy and I have the power I need to find my way home. You don’t need to help me anymore unless I ask for help. Rest easy.”

happy-safe-love

“I’m safe,” she repeated, and the earth seemed so pleased that it didn’t realize she hadn’t said she was happy or loved.

Because it’s inanimate power, Nadia, not a person. This time she laughed at her whimsy as she rose and stepped into the blissful heat of the shower. No, the earth wasn’t sentient, even if magic had given it a sort of consciousness. It couldn’t tell she ached with longing. That every step toward the freeze line gave her body strength and put another cut on her heart.

Shane was the most hopeless man she’d ever cared for, and those feelings made her sister’s choice appear rational in comparison. Nadia had heard of just one witch who’d mated a werewolf, and that had been an act of magic so forbidden that her choice was spoken of only in whispers. Horror stories and cautionary tales—the woman who had bound herself to a wolf and shared in his madness, proof of a deranged mind in a culture that valued civilization above everything else.

Even that was hopeless. The spell—if it existed—wouldn’t temper the monster inside. Shane would have to be willing to trust her with his darkness, trust her to be strong enough to face his wolf. He’d have to trust himself, and that seemed the most insurmountable obstacle of all.

The water washed away the dirt of hard travel, but it couldn’t ease her anxieties. Still, Nadia stayed in the shower until she’d found the courage to face him again, to pretend she didn’t bleed every time he turned away. The bag he’d packed for her included a comb, which had no doubt belonged to the woman he couldn’t bring himself to discuss.

It felt awkward, using her things. Wearing her clothing. For the first time, she wondered if any attraction he felt was to a dream or a memory, if opening his eyes to see her face shattered his desire. It made donning the pink flannel sweatpants and the silk-screened top even less desirable.

Instead she found a fluffy towel that covered her from breast to knee—and tried to pretend it wasn’t a test. Look at me. See me.

If he turned away, her heart might break.

She found Shane kneeling in the room he’d cleared, his head down and his hands fisted on his thighs. His shoulders heaved with his deep, even breaths, but every exhalation was edged with a rumble, almost a growl.

Something was wrong. Worry prickled up her spine. “Shane?”

The growl deepened, and his eyes flashed yellow as he looked up. “The earth’s awake.”

“I know. I—” She’d released the earth from its bondage, told it to rest. She hadn’t even considered what that would do to Shane. With the writhing power beneath them no longer focused solely on her, she’d thrown him into his worst nightmare.

“I can hear you.” He stood, his movements graceful and sure enough to make it clear he could have moved much faster—if he’d wanted. “Your heart. It’s pounding.”

He’d sense her fear and assume she was afraid of him instead of for him. “The earth touched me as well. I’m worried for you. Worried that I unleashed something that will hurt you.”

“Hurt? No.” His nostrils flared, and he stepped closer. “I’m not hurt.”

She held her ground. Not to avoid hurting him, but because she knew a predator when she saw one. Weakness invited attack. Flight would encourage a chase. She wouldn’t allow herself to consider the sensual possibilities of being caught, not when he’d scent her arousal.

So she studied him. Tried to find the man she knew under the beast. “What do you need, Shane?”

He ignored the question and ran the back of his hand over the towel she was wearing. “Where did you get this?”

It was such an unexpected question, she didn’t know what to do besides tell him the truth. “There was a stack of them in the bathroom cupboard.”

His jaw tightened. “Take it off.”

Nudity didn’t bother her. Neither did the promise of dirty, carnal sex that lingered in his gaze. Not so much desire, but proof any intimacy would be edged with danger, with wild hunger. She craved such a coupling—

But he didn’t, so she tightened her fingers on the towel. “I don’t think I should.”

He turned his hand, curled his fingers under the top edge. He was touching her skin, his knuckles grazing her breast, and the caress made it difficult to concentrate on his words. “It smells like another man.”

It smelled clean to her, but as acute as his senses were, perhaps one wash hadn’t been enough. There was no map, no guide to know which of his instincts she should avoid and which she could test.

The possessiveness in his gaze seemed too fierce a line to cross. Moving slowly, she eased her arms from her body. The edges of the towel slipped, leaving the middle caught in his grasp.

Shane dropped it to the floor and drew her closer. “Still smell it.” He bent his face to her skin, inhaled on a deep breath. “You should smell like me.”

It was pathetic—how eagerly her body heated under his touch. She was as needy as the earth had been, clinging to any contact, clutching at a connection. Her nipples hardened under the rough scratch of his T-shirt. Warmth flooded her, pooling between her legs. She’d be slick soon enough, wet and all but whimpering for him.

He growled again and lifted her clear off her feet, against his body. He was hard, well muscled—the kind that came from hard work—and she wrapped her legs around his narrow hips before she remembered she had to slow him down. She had to be the one who said no.

She parted her lips, but all that escaped was a gasp as Shane crashed them into the wall. His erection ground between her legs, coarse fabric sliding against too-sensitive skin. If she rocked, just a little, she might be able to center that glorious friction on her clit—

Shane growled and bit her throat.

Magic screamed through her. Her body pulsed. She clutched at his back, digging her nails into his bunching shoulders as she shuddered under the tumbling sensations. Pain, pleasure, bone-deep satisfaction that echoed in him as he marked her, claimed her, owned her.

His fingers tangled in her hair, jerked her head back, and his mouth descended on hers in a rough kiss. The edge of his teeth bit into her skin, hard enough to bring blood.

Too hard. Not for her—the edge of pain made the pleasure of his tongue that much sharper—but the gentle lover who’d touched her with reverence would surely shy away from it. Even with lust fogging her brain, it didn’t seem right. To take him into her body, to let him slake their lust, all the while knowing he’d hate himself for every bruise, for every mark.

A violation of the worst kind, if it was in her power to stop him. So she tried, gradually at first, sliding her fingers into his hair as she inched her lips from his. “Shane, we shouldn’t—”

He edged his thumb into her mouth and ground against her again, this time prompting a shudder from her that left a feral grin curving his lips.

She wanted to bite him. She wanted to give in, to be craved and desired, ravished and claimed. It was touch, so necessary to life that she’d been withering without it, and Shane watched her like the world began and ended with her pleasure.

It was the promise of comfort in an otherwise dreary life, and it wasn’t hers to take. Not at his expense.

The energy sparking between them gave her the answer. She closed her eyes and reached for the earth that was so eager to obey her. I’m in danger. Give the power back to me. All of it back to me—take it away from him.

He stared at her, his brows drawn together in a frown, and the clouds cleared from his gaze. “Nadia—”

Relief. Regret. Both clamored for her attention, battling the rising magic that made her ears ring. Too much too fast, and beneath them, the earth chanted a frantic warning.

monster, monster, monster, monst—

Thunder rocked the research station. Lightning exploded. Nadia hit the floor on her knees and cried out at the jarring pain, unsure how a storm had formed inside four walls.

PROTECT

“No!” The denial shredded her throat as she fought her way to her feet. Not a storm. The earth, but she could only see in blurry, inverted colors, her eyes struggling to recover from the blinding flash of light. “I’m safe, I’m safe from him. He’s not the monster—”

Her vision cleared, and she found Shane slumped on the far side of the room. He’d knocked over a chair and upended a crate of supplies before he’d hit the wall. Glass must have shattered. She felt a shred slice the bottom of her foot and ignored it, staggering to his side. Sore knees protested the sudden drop to the floor, but she ignored that pain too as she turned him over and reached for his neck, desperately seeking a pulse.

It was there, fast but strong, but something hot left her fingers slicking over his skin. Blood. It dampened the hair at the back of his head, stained his shirt in quickly spreading blots of color.

She was a warrior, not a healer. The only spells she knew were meant to keep a partner alive so she could find real assistance. Maybe it would be sufficient, if a werewolf’s healing could finish the job.

It had to be. She closed her eyes and tried to find the words. The scent of blood filled the air. Sharp. Metallic. She could almost taste it—no, she could taste it, her blood, where his teeth had slashed her lip.

Focus, Nadia.

Simple words. No one had ever told her the original language, only that it was ancient. Not just before the quakes, but before men had built cities. The time of wild plains and stone temples and spears and songs. The time her people wanted to bring back.

Focus.

She whispered the incantation and felt magic stir. Shyly, offering the hand of peace because she’d scolded it. Frightened it. With the earth’s help, she wrapped the only healing spell she knew around Shane, whispering the phrases over and over, until they became a chant.

A prayer.