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layers of clothes off, letting them fall in a stinking pile at her feet. As she looked down, she was touched and a little embarrassed that Garret had taken the time to bandage her foot. Next she adjusted the faucets until the water was just right. Unable to help it, she groaned as the first spray hit her. Grabbing the shower gel, she lathered a thick layer both onto her hair and her body. It smelt distinctly male. Like him. She had to suppress another moan at the thought. Once rinsed, she began again by reapplying another layer. The problem was, as she watched the filth pour down the drain, it felt as if she was washing away the last few months. That if she scrubbed hard enough, maybe the thing would go too.  It was a dangerous thought because instinctively she knew that she would never be rid of it. It was as much a part of her as her own heart now. Its tendrils ran deep anchoring right into her soul. To sever such an intimate connection was to die.
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    So much for her needing to feel safe. Needing to sleep in his room. So much for locking the damned door. Forget locking, the least she could have done was close the door. Thank God for frosted glass.
    He’d been in the process of reaching for his gun, the one he’d stashed under his pillow, when he heard the shower. Garrett had never realized how perfectly lined up the bedroom and the bathroom were. How easy it was to look straight into the shower. How small his apartment really was. The frosted glass did plenty to obscure his view. It didn’t do nearly enough though. He could still make out each feminine curve from the flare of her hip to the curve of her deceptively full breasts. With difficulty, he looked away, took his weapon and stood. Garrett meant to get dressed and as far away as his small apartment would allow him to when the shower stopped and Bee stepped out. Their eyes locked. His blood thickened, heated, searing a path through his body. Every part of him awakened. Especially one part in particular.
    Bee didn’t react in a way he expected. There were no squeals or reaching for a towel to cover herself. She just stood there wet and glistening. Her nipples puckered into hard jutting points. Growing harder under his scrutiny. He couldn’t help but look. Those hard nubs were dark against her fair skin. And the thatch of midnight curls at the apex of her thighs. Au natural never looked so good. Ah hell, he could feel himself harden, lengthen a whole lot more. How could his mouth feel so damned dry yet so ready to drool all at once?
    Her eyes dropped half-mast and her raspberry stained lips opened as she released a rugged breath. He knew in that instant that if he were to go to her, she would let him. Garrett could have her sprawled on his bed in seconds. Could have her crying his name as he pumped into her if he so wished. Despite his vision, he was sorely tempted. But Bee…Brice was a hybrid no matter how much he wished to believe otherwise.
    What was her game? Hybrids were not interested in sex only blood, death. But isn’t that what his vision had predicted? Was she tempting him so that he would let his guard down so she could kill him?
    “Get dressed,” it came out sounding gruffer than he’d intended. “Help yourself to whatever you need.” She took a step towards him, but he put up his hand stopping her. Thank God.
    A shadow slipped across her face. A pained, hurt look. It affected him more than it should have, made him want to apologize but damn it she was a hybrid. He a Demon Chaser. An apology was not going to happen. “Don’t.” Stay there . “Get dressed.” The words were strained, a little choked, as he turned scrubbing a hand over his face.
    This was ridiculous. They hadn’t said more than two words to one another. He wasn’t the kind of guy that had sex indiscriminately. One that was ruled by his dick. He’d seen first-hand the kind of damage a man like that could do.  Could still hear his mother crying herself to sleep waiting for