Master of the Abyss

shrank his body to the size of a field mouse, gave him a tail and ears, and watched him scamper away. “Your balls were only mouse-sized too, you cowardly asshole,” she muttered when he returned, cudgel held high. She turned him into a mouse over and over. Then she took the sounds of her screams, of yelps, of his roar and lowered the volume until the noise of violence disappeared under the happy tumbling of the creek.

She stepped back from the horrifying sight of Virgil, helpless on the ground, and with jaw set, she substituted his laugh and groan when she’d told him that joke. Virgil’s laugh could lighten any sadness, and a second later, she grinned. If he gave her any trouble before his ribs healed, she could start telling jokes.

Finally she came to the terror of Jake fighting the monster. She let fear drip like water from her fingers to the stubbly grass, and pulled Jake’s protectiveness around her like a warm blanket.

She walked her clearing slowly, changing pain into pride. She’d done well. Her family was alive; Jake was alive. No more women would be killed.

Time passed. The moon rose until it floated high in the sky, outshining the stars. The creek’s happy gurgling made her smile once again, and the pines blessed her with a motherly shushing sound. Distant barks came from coyotes running in the moonlight. And she knew the rustling in the underbrush meant a tiny shrew, not a monster.

She was shaking again…but whole. And her sanctuary belonged to her. She opened her arms, wishing for a way to embrace a place, to somehow return the comfort it had given her over the years. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Turning, she realized she was still alone despite the passage of time. Had he gone back down the trail? Had he left her-as she’d asked? The sense of abandonment stabbed through her, and then she shook her head and laughed. Not Jake, Mr. Overprotective himself. The certainty stabilized the ground under her feet as if she’d moved from a rolling boat onto solid land. “Jake? Where are you?”

“Here.” His voice came from up the slope. A minute or two later, he appeared, walking down the tiny path. He must have gone back up the trail to leave her alone but stayed close enough to return if she needed him. Balancing her requests against his own needs.

“Thank you,” she said as he walked up to her.

The moonlight showed how his gaze took her in, studying her face, her hands, her shoulders. He smiled slowly. “You look better.”

“I am.”

“As long as we’re here, I want to talk to you without your cousins hovering over you.”

She took a step back. Friends. Nothing more. She started to shake her head.

“Can’t you trust me enough for that?”

A memory of the first time he’d asked for her trust stole into her mind: “Can you trust me in here, surrounded by other people, to restrain you, spank you, and give you pleasure?” Her cheeks heated, and from the way his eyebrow raised, he knew exactly what she’d thought. She straightened her shoulders. “Only to talk. I’m not going to start anything up again with you.”

“Clear enough.” He pulled a bottle of water from the side pocket of the backpack. “Drink, sprite.”

The thought of never hearing his nickname for her again hurt. She took a couple of sips and handed the bottle back, watching him drink, the sight of his strong throat as he swallowed disconcertingly sexy. He unstrapped the sleeping bag from the bottom of the pack and flipped it open.

“Sit.”

She dropped down and crossed her legs. Jake followed, and as she turned to look at him, she realized he’d positioned himself so the moonlight illuminated their faces. He not only wanted to talk but also see her reactions.

Why in the world had she agreed to stay? It would only hurt more. Already she felt her strength failing. I can’t do this again: needing him, wanting him, losing him. No no no. “I changed my mind. I’m going to go back down now.” She pushed up to her knees, then started to stand.

“No, you’re not. Not unless you use your safe word.” He grasped her wrist and gave her a level stare.

“Damn you, this isn’t some game. I don’t want to stay here.” She tugged, and yet she couldn’t…couldn’t use her safe word and bring an end to everything.

He cupped her chin, keeping her from moving. “Look at me, Kallie.”

Tears filled her eyes without warning, and his face softened. “Oh, sugar, don’t do that. You’ll break my heart.” He stroked his thumb over the curve of her jaw.

“Why do you keep doing this?” She met his eyes. “I still…” She smothered the rest-still love you-and took a gulp of air. “I know you don’t want anything serious. But I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m damned sorry for the hurt I caused you, sprite. I was an idiot-and the coward you called me. When you said you loved me, it scared me spitless.” His grim eyes trapped her gaze. “I just couldn’t be responsible for another woman’s happiness.”

“I know,” she whispered. It didn’t help.

He brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “You see…I’d not only screwed up and had been so careless of Mimi that she had no hope, but somehow I hadn’t realized she wanted to die. I’m a dom. To know I could miss that-I couldn’t risk taking another submissive.”

She curled her fingers around his strong hand. So strong, yet he’d been hurt so badly that her heart ached for him. His protectiveness was one of the things she loved about him-here was the reverse side. “You know you didn’t miss anything, don’t you? She didn’t commit suicide. Andrew killed her.”

“I know. Now.” His face turned to stone, and rage flashed, turning his eyes to ice. “I shouldn’t have killed him so quickly.” He inhaled and exhaled in a long, controlled breath, and his gaze softened as he looked at her. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to scare you.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have, but his anger made her feel safe. He was a warrior like Virgil, and the world held too few of them. She raised her chin. “You don’t frighten me, Hunt.”

He snorted a laugh. “You think I’d know that by now.” He rubbed his knuckles gently against her cheek and paused, his eyes on hers. “Kallie, even before I learned how Mimi died, I was already on my way to your house. For you.”

The ground underneath her seemed to tilt. No. I don’t want this. She’d needed his love so badly before, but not anymore. Too risky. Too much pain. “No.”

“Oh yes. You were right; I ran…and I hurt you. I’m sorry, sprite.” He looked so unhappy that he’d caused her pain; her heart broke for him. “Can you forgive me for being such a coward?”

He hadn’t wanted to hurt her-she didn’t want to hurt him now. “Of course I forgive you,” she said before thinking it through.

Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm, his lips soft, his breath warm against her skin. “Thank you.”

“Right. Well.”

He didn’t release her hand but used it to pull her closer. “Now the past is out of the way, we can move on…” After brushing his lips over hers, he deepened the kiss.

She could have kissed him all night, but eventually his words registered, and she slapped her palm on his wide chest and pushed him back. “Wait. Move on? To what?”

His lips quirked. “To the fact that I love you,” he said, his rumbling voice only a murmur but very certain. When her mouth dropped open, he smiled and took her face between his hands, holding her gaze with his as he repeated, “I love you, Kalinda Masterson.”

Hellfire, he never did anything halfway, did he? Love? The sweeping wonder died under the onslaught of fear. She couldn’t risk this, couldn’t stand to lose someone again. Her lip quivered, and he ran his thumb over it soothingly.

“No. I don’t want you.” She kept her hand on his chest to push him away, felt the contoured muscles, the warm skin, and wanted to stroke instead. The crisp hair scattered over his chest-she’d