And if she didn’t go back… Well, there wouldn’t be a whole lot of her left to date.
She was still leaning against the wall, forehead resting on the smooth plaster, her back to him, and he traced a finger down the line of her spine, felt her skin shiver beneath his touch.
Had he deliberately turned her away so he wouldn’t look into her face as she came? Wouldn’t see her eyes do that spooky, scary demon thing? Now, he took a deep breath and turned her slowly. Her lashes flickered open, and she peered up at him, crimson whirls in the emerald green.
He swallowed the curse that rose up in his throat, kept his expression neutral, and kissed her briefly on the cheek. “Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll take you dancing?”
The crimson faded and some of his tension eased. A smile curved her lips, and she nodded, slipped out from beneath his arm, and almost skipped down the hall. She looked happy. Seriously happy. It almost broke his heart. Maybe if he told her everything, she would agree to go back with him, to sort this out…somehow.
When he heard the shower running, he headed into the living area and dug his cell phone out of his pocket, punching in a number. “Ash?”
“What is it?”
“Is it a bad sign if her eyes go all red?” No answer. “Ash?”
“Was she…excited at the time?”
“Maybe a little.”
“I thought werewolves didn’t do shifters.”
“Piss off.”
“We talked about this. You need to get her back here. And I mean now.”
“She won’t come.”
“Make her. And fast. Drug her if you have to. And whatever the fuck you do—don’t let her have a drink.”
He couldn’t imagine drugging her, and he hated the fact that he was keeping secrets from her. Important secrets. “What if I tell her the truth?”
“Are you crazy?”
Probably, but best not to share that with the demon—he already sounded pissed-off enough. He heard a sigh on the other end of the line.
“If she’s on the cusp, finding out she’s half demon is probably the one thing guaranteed to tip her over, and then who knows what will happen, but it’s unlikely to be pretty.”
That’s what he’d been afraid of. He rubbed a hand through his hair, but didn’t speak.
“Carl?” The demon’s tone was tense.
“Yeah?”
“So, when will we see you?”
At that moment, Shera appeared in the doorway, a scarlet slip dress skimming her curves, so beautiful his chest ached.
“Carl?” Now Ash’s tone held distinct worry. Carl could almost hear him gnashing his teeth.
“Sorry,” Carl muttered. “I have to go dancing.” And he ended the call before Ash could say anything further.
Things would work out. He’d make them work out. Somehow.
But right now, he had no clue how.
Chapter Seven
They teetered on the edge of a towering precipice. Four hundred feet beneath them, the Zambezi River surged through the narrow chasm. The water boiled and tumbled over the jagged rocks, rising like smoke in the distance where the falls thundered into the gorge below.
And if they did somehow survive the fall, then there were hordes of hungry crocodiles waiting to snap them up.
“Crazy” didn’t do it justice.
Every protective instinct he possessed rose to the surface. Inside, his wolf whined and clawed.
Shera pressed up against him, her back to his front, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, bound by ropes and a harness, their ankles tied tightly together.
“You ready?” A voice said from behind them, holding a hint of impatience.
Hell, no.
He’d never be ready.
The crewmember had explained what to do—which essentially boiled down to—leap off a fucking high bridge into a monster-infested river. What the man hadn’t explained was what would happen if Carl lost control and shifted during the jump. He’d slip straight out of the harness and…
He swallowed and told his wolf to fuck off.
Shera twisted around slightly so she could look into his face. “You don’t have to do this,” she said. Her gaze held no fear and no sympathy. In fact he detected a glint of amusement in her eyes. “I can do it alone.”
Never going to happen.
“Let’s go.”
Carl gritted his teeth and took a stumbling step closer to the edge, staring straight ahead so he wouldn’t have to look down. Shera spread her arms and his own tightened around her.
Then he leaped into space. “Fuuuuck!”
Shera screamed, but the sound was filled with joy and life and excitement, and for the first time since he’d stepped onto the bridge he was glad he’d done this.
Then he was falling, head first, down into the gorge. A howl stuck in his throat, but at least his wolf had decided he didn’t want to come out and was cowering somewhere deep inside.
Hot air rushed past them, the water coming closer and closer. He wanted to close his eyes but somehow they wouldn’t obey. Then the rope snapped taut. And they were going up again, rising, while careening wildly from side to side.