“My little girl goin’ on a quest,” Dad had said when I’d told him. He’d also had a big grin of pride and approval on his face and he’d given me a tender cuff up the side of my head. “Good for you, Lilah. ’Bout time you took off and found what you needed to fill that hole in your gut.”

Dad understood.

Dad always understood.

I didn’t.

And now I understood it less.

My mind came back into the room when the guy walked toward me carrying some material in his hand. When he did, I couldn’t believe I’d let my mind wander.

I watched him warily as he moved.

He was tall. Tall and lean. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, his legs long.

He had bulk, but it was spare. Regardless, even if I hadn’t experienced what I’d experienced not thirty minutes ago, one look at him and you knew he had power. That scar. The way he held himself. The economical way he moved. He was not a guy who went to the gym to hone his body because he was into fitness or wanted attention. He was a guy who, if he went to the gym rather than drinking raw eggs and doing one-armed pushups on the asphalt of the alley where he’d parked his bike, he did it as a statement that no one should mess with him, because if they did, he’d fuck them up.

He had that scar and it was nasty.

But I’d put money down that the other guy got worse.

“Shower,” he grunted as he tossed the material on the bed beside me and I continued to stare at him. “You reek of them.”

“I…uh” was the only thing I could get out, seeing as there was no way in hell I was going to shower in this weird basement room with a guy in attendance who I did not know, who also terrified me.

And this was saying something, considering I was covered in blood and I’d never wanted a shower more in my life.

“Now,” he growled.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

He didn’t reply.

It was then I saw his eyes, and in the light of the room I could make out the colors.

One was a startling light blue. The other was a deep, rich brown.

I’d never seen eyes like that. Not in my life.

They were enthralling.

“What are you?” I asked, still in a whisper, this one breathless.

“Shower,” he repeated.

I blinked, pulled myself together, and leaned a bit back. Even though he wasn’t close, just standing beside the bed, that was close enough. “I want you to let me go.”

“Case you hadn’t noticed, not safe for you out there.”

Uh.

What?