When Alex woke up, the first thing she felt was a throbbing pain in her left cheek. She rolled onto her side, and her leg immediately warned her to be careful. With a grunt, she buried herself under the covers. That was when she realized she was in his bed. Which, in itself, wasn't unusual… except she had no memory of getting there.
In fact, thinking back to the previous night, her memories stopped shortly after returning home. She threw off the covers and inspected the bandage on her thigh. She didn't remember being stitched up. A dreadful thought crossed her mind: she had fainted. There was no other explanation for the mental blackout. She shuddered. She had fainted… and in front of a man, no less.
She looked around the room, but there was no sign of the man in question.
With a martial step—as much as her injured leg would allow—she made her way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Half her face was swollen and tinged with blue. She wondered how she would be able to go to work that evening. She had always been careful to dodge blows to the face, but the night before… the thought still made her seethe with anger. She'd been distracted like a rookie.
She wouldn't be much help to Mike with her leg in that condition anyway, she thought as she bent her knee slightly and felt the stitches pull. She leaned against the sink and shook her head. She would have to miss a few days of work at the club. Better let them know.
She limped back into the living room.
"You shouldn't be walking around."
She froze at the sound of Michael's voice and looked up. Her expression darkened.
"You lost a lot of blood last night," he continued, walking toward her.
Alex lifted her chin. "I'm fine now."
He nodded. "But I don't think you should be testing your limits." He stopped a few steps away. "If you take a seat, I'll bring breakfast. I made eggs and toast."
Alex ate in silence, not lifting her gaze from her plate. She felt terribly uncomfortable. No one had ever seen her hurt or vulnerable. She felt exposed, strangely exposed. This stranger had gotten closer to her than anyone else had in the last twenty years.
"Thank you for last night," she said, finally looking up.
Michael met her eyes—gray that day—and read all the turmoil hidden behind those few words. He felt guilty for what he had done to her, for having somehow betrayed her trust, even if he had only tried to help. He shrugged.
"You don't have to thank me," he said. "I still owe you."
"No debts."
They finished eating, and while Michael went into the kitchen, Alex approached the window. Her home suddenly felt small and stifling. Michael's presence had become unexpectedly cumbersome—annoying, even. She drew back the curtains and let a shy ray of sunlight warm her face.
A movement caught her eye, and when she looked down, she saw the black dog from the previous night sniffing at the pavement across the street.
"You won't find anything to feed you in this neighborhood," she murmured.
"Did you say something?"
Alex turned. "Just talking to myself. There's a stray that's been hanging around since last night. I was suggesting he try another part of town before some kid turns him into a fur coat."
Michael moved the curtain aside and glanced down. He stepped back quickly before the animal could lift its head. It wasn't a dog. It was a wolf—a werewolf, to be precise. They were looking for him.
"It's only been here since yesterday?" he asked.
Alex nodded.
He had to leave. Immediately. But without being seen. Then his gaze fell on Alex. He had to protect her.
She was watching him with questioning eyes. "Everything okay?"
Michael nodded. "I have to go," he said then.
A sense of relief washed over Alex, though it was tinged with a slight ache in her chest. "Okay," she murmured.
Meanwhile, Michael's mind was racing. He had to get to the station. From there, he would take the train to BlackHill. Someone would pick him up once he reached the village.
One problem remained: Alex. He couldn't take her with him, but he didn't want to leave her behind either. He cursed himself for dragging her into this—even though he still didn't know exactly what "this" was.
"Here."
Alex's voice brought him back to the present. He looked down at her outstretched hands.
"Clothes, a phone, and some money," she said, handing them over.
He looked at her with surprise and gratitude. She had thought of everything.
"Thank you," he said. "I'll pay you back."
She shook her head and smiled. "No debts."
He nodded and went into the bathroom to get ready. He looked out the window—but the wolf was gone. Either it had gone to get reinforcements… or it had given up the search.
Whatever the case, it was time to call Christopher.
He turned the phone Alex had given him in his hands, then dialed a number.
"Hey Chris, it's Mick."