“We’re not—”

She untucked her towel and let it fall, and I choked on the rest of my sentence. I had to focus on each breath after that to make sure I hadn’t forgotten the entire respiratory process, but that didn’t help, because every breath smelled like Abby. The rest of the room slid out of focus until I saw nothing but the curls tumbling down her back, ending just above the narrowest part of her waist. Even her lower back was freckled, but below that, her skin was smooth and pale, leading toward taut, rounded muscle.

Look at something else. Anything else.

I glanced around the room, desperate for something to latch onto. Something to talk about other than how her very well-toned backside tapered to slim, powerful thighs that could probably squeeze…

No, no, no. There was no hiding how badly I wanted her, and if she looked, she’d see.

My gaze landed on the computer printout I’d found on the desk, forgotten with my first glance at Abby in her towel, still wet from the shower. The gruesome image was jarring, but it did the trick.

“Where did you get this?” I held up the page.

She turned as she pulled her nightshirt over her head, then froze when her gaze landed on the paper. Her eyes widened and the hem of her shirt fell past her navel. “I should have shredded it,” she whispered.

Staring up at me from the page was a picture of Abby’s head mounted on a wooden plaque sloppily nailed to a paneled wall. Cartoonish blood dripped from her severed neck in the image, and her human eyes had been digitally overlain with cheesy cat pupils. She’d been smiling in the original photo, and the grinning severed head was well beyond disturbing.

“I printed it at Hargrove’s house before they packed up his computer.” Abby stepped into that green underwear and crossed the room toward me slowly, each step deliberate, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to be any closer to the gruesome image but was too stubborn to give in to fear. And she was afraid. Terror danced in the coppers and browns of her eyes, but the line of her jaw had been chiseled by determination.

She was so strong. I’d never met anyone who’d been through as much as Abby had and had come through it with half as much resilience and determination.

“Why?” I frowned down at the page, then studied her face again, convinced I’d see more there than she would say aloud. “Why would you even want to print this, much less keep it?”

She glanced at the floor, obviously struggling to put into words an idea that probably hadn’t even been clear when she’d first thought it. “I need to remember why I’m doing this. I can’t afford to forget what will happen if I get sloppy or careless. If they catch me.”

She’d needed to keep the threat fresh in her mind, because the passage of time breeds complacency. Given enough distance from them, we start to forget how badly pain hurts and how scary fear feels, and when that happens, we lose our edge. I could understand that.

But… “You’re not in this alone.”

“I know. That’s the problem. They’ve already killed several toms, including one of your enforcers.”

Leo. We’d found his head stuffed and mounted on the wall of the cabin the hunters had lured Abby to with her human roommate as bait.

“After they get me, they’ll go after someone else. If they can’t get me, they’ll go after someone else. We can’t let that happen. I can’t let that happen.”

Did she think killing the first three hunters made their entire sick club her responsibility? “Abby, you can’t hold yourself at fault for what the hunters do. This is my territory. I’m responsible for killing them and catching the stray, and I will never let any of them near you.”

“I know you won’t.” She stared up at me, and her eyes were swimming with an overwhelming mix of fear, trust, and determination.

I pulled her into a hug. The printout floated to the floor, face down. “They’d have to go through all of us to get to you. Luke and Isaac included.”

“I know.” She laid her head on my chest. Moisture soaked through my shirt from her damp curls, and suddenly I was humiliatingly aware that she was still pressed against me. Half naked. “But I need to remember that I’m capable of defending myself. You need to remember that too.” The warmth from her breath made my heart beat harder.

“I’ve never forgotten.” I inhaled the clean scent of her hair and my arms tightened around her, pressed flat to her warm lower back. “I saw what you did to those hunters. That’s why I offered you this job in the first place.”

“Bullshit.” She pulled away to frown up at me, and I felt the sudden distance as if the earth had split between us. “You offered me a job because you didn’t think I’d take it.”

“That’s not—” But I bit off the lie, determined not to insult her with it. “Okay, that’s true, but I meant the offer as a compliment. I wanted you to know that I saw what you were capable of, and that I respect the skill. You’re this fierce little ball of fur and claws, and I pity any idiot who goes up against you.”

Her frown deepened. “That makes me sound about as vicious as a hissing kitten. I’m not a child, Jace. That was the point of keeping the stupid printout.” She knelt to pick it up, and her forehead furrowed when her gaze focused on the image. “Sick bastards…”

“Hey.” I pulled the paper from her grasp. “I’m not going to leave your side until we’ve buried the last of them in at least a dozen shredded pieces.”

“You’re going to stay with me every minute?”

“Every single”—agonizingly platonic—“second.” My tongue suddenly felt thick and clumsy. “I swear I will be with you every second of every day, until everyone in the world who wishes you harm is dead and buried. And I know you’re not a child.” She’d made that very clear. But it didn’t matter, because Abby was Brian’s fiancée, and I could not take another man’s fiancée.

Even if she clearly wanted to be taken.

I had alliances in place, people dependent upon me, and responsibilities to uphold, and just because Abby obviously didn’t understand the consequences of what she was asking for didn’t mean I could ignore them.

“Do you know?” She bit her bottom lip, and I couldn’t have looked away if a tornado had ripped through the cabin at that very moment. “Prove it.”