“Heroes come in all shapes and sizes, thank you very much,” she said.

A loud thump and a howl sounded. From the way the bed shook and the grumble that followed, she guessed Harrison had hit his head on the frame.

He slithered out before she could apologize for taking him by surprise. His movements were quick and agile, allowing her only a brief glimpse of the undulating muscles of his back before he was standing again.

Standing and glowering.

“Your dog refuses to come out,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at the bed. “I’ve tried everything to coax her out—everything except table scraps, so don’t look at me like that.”

“Look at you like what?”

“Like that,” he repeated. He also didn’t elaborate, so she had no idea how she was supposed to interpret his remark. Was she furrowing her brow? Blinking too much?

With a sigh, he added, “She’s too damn small. I can’t get hold of her.”

“Maybe that’s because she doesn’t want to be held,” Sophie said tartly. “What happened to set her off?”

His grim expression turned even grimmer. “Fire.”

“What? Where?” She spun, wondering if she’d somehow missed blazing flames. It was only then that she noted the room they were in was distinctly and unmistakably feminine. In addition to the ruffled bed skirt, there was a mirrored vanity in one corner covered with perfume bottles that had long ago been tipped on their sides. The room was also dusty in a way that was normally reserved for haunted houses. Like the faded wallpaper in the hallway, there was something ancient and untouched about it.

“In the living room,” Harrison said. “It was cold this morning, so I started a fire in the grate. She took one look at the crackling flames, howled, and ran off.”

“Oh. Um.” Sophie gulped. “That’s not good.”

“No,” he agreed grimly. “I think we can safely say it’s not good. Didn’t you test her first or anything?”

Test her? As in, throw a puppy into a flaming pit and see how she’d react? “Of course I didn’t,” she said. “I mean, I tested her nose, of course, and gauged her reaction to high-stress situations, but I thought we’d introduce her to your actual lifestyle gently. Carefully.”

“Gently?” he echoed. “Do you have any idea what it is I do for a living?”