Darkness Becomes Her Read Online Free

address square cut away. A To Do list had several bullet-point items scribbled all over it.
    In the small living area, a sewing kit sat by the recliner, lid open to reveal spools of thread and a red heart-shaped pincushion. Juxtaposing the domestic ambience, a stack of well-read love novels on the end table sported covers with couples in provocative poses. So she liked the steamy stuff, eh?
    Even further from the norm, a gymnast’s mat filled a corner, a punching bag hanging above it. Several DVDs on karate were stacked by the television. Bars and a fine steel mesh reinforced the windows.
    Ah, now he was getting somewhere. Someone had drawn a cross on the wall, four lines and a small circle in the middle. He looked around more closely. At the bottom of the stack of novels he found a hard-bound notebook, ragged with use. Sketches of demonic beings filled the pages, each identified as creatures like werewolves and shapeshifters. Many had X’s through them. He took pictures of a few pages with his cell phone, then one of the cross.
    He took a few steps into the only bedroom. Not a lot of personal effects here either. A framed picture, fuzzy blanket, a small stuffed penguin on the made bed that looked like it had seen years in the clutches of a child. The sight of it stabbed him in the chest for some reason. He saw no other signs of a child living here, so it had to be hers. He took a picture of that, too.
    A key slid into the lock at the front door. Lachlan stepped out of view, watching as she dashed into the kitchen and grabbed some papers on the counter. The vision flashed through his mind again, this woman standing over his brother’s body, and he reacted. He crossed the few feet, catching her eye with the movement, but he already had his arms around her waist before she could get in a kick. She pitched all her weight forward, throwing him off balance enough that she wriggled free. She spun, with a roundhouse kick to his side. Pain exploded, making him grunt. He regained his balance, finding her bouncing on her feet, fists raised, ready to attack.
    Both fear and anger blazed in eyes a rich blend of green and chocolate. No sign of that sweetness now. A ruse, as he’d expected. She jabbed, and when he backed up, kicked. He grabbed her foot and sent her stumbling backward. She twisted, slamming sideways into him using karate moves she no doubt practiced on that mat. She was strong, and it hurt. It also felt good in a strange way.
    He grabbed her arms, clamping them against her sides. She swiveled, shoving him against the wall and, with that split second of freedom, made to run toward the door. He grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back, intending to pin her against him. She twisted her ankle and pushed his foot enough to send him to the floor, her along with him. They crashed, both taking the brunt of the fall. His arms locked around her.
    They ended up with her on top, her back plastered to his front. As she struggled to free herself, her ass ground against his pelvis. Of all damned things, the movement shot heat through him. This was a fight, not sex. But he was thinking about sex, which was crazy.
    She brought her elbow down, but he blocked before she could dig the point into his side. He was too breathless to talk, too focused on winning. She shoved her hip sideways and kicked his leg, shooting pain up the length of it. This time she was able to roll to the side and gain her footing, jumping to her feet. He was right behind her and grabbed her again.
    He shoved her against the wall, hearing her breath whoosh out of her. Didn’t matter; she made to ram her knee into his groin. She was a fighter, and a practiced one at that. She hadn’t hesitated to fight him. He used his body to hold her to the wall, grabbing her flailing arms and anchoring them at her head level. Their heavy breathing was synchronized, and with each breath, their bodies pressed tighter together. Her breasts, soft and round, nipples hardened, sent heat