“Would you like a coffee, Jared?” Pausing by the murky looking coffee pot that perched on a scuffed counter in the corner, I lifted an eyebrow, underlining my question.

A grunt, his dark head still angled toward his knees, sneakers kicking back and forth, back and forth, making a swush swush sound against the threadbare carpet.

I bit back a sigh. Eyebrow game wasted once again. Chuckling, I poured myself a cup and doctored it with cream and sugar, if only to make it palatable. “Unfortunately, I don’t speak grunt. Help me out here, I’m obviously ignorant and not hip to the latest street lingo.”

Another grunt, but the tips of his ears had heated to a bright pink. “Nobody says hip anymore.”

“Exactly. That’s me, a grown up and uncool.” Tapping my nails against the coffee pot, so it made a satisfying dink, I repeated my question.

Another grunt.

I groaned, loud and long. “I’m not asking you to give me your life story, only whether you’d like a cup of coffee.”

“I’m seven.” It was said in a way that very clearly asked me what the hell I was doing offering a child coffee. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be giving me caffeine.” Brown eyes flashed up for a second, before dipping back down under his overgrown hair.

“Seriously? You look at least sixteen.” Sarcasm was my friend, but I tucked away that scrap of information. That had sounded like an adult’s influence, maybe a neighbor? It definitely hadn’t been his mother, that’s for sure. “Okay, no coffee.”

“I’ll take a soda.” His voice was small and begrudging.

“No caffeine, right?” Digging something fizzy and orange out of the mini-fridge, that was tucked under the counter, I crossed the room and held it out. “Will this do?” I knew better than to ask if he liked it. This was my fourth session with Jared and so far, I was getting nowhere fast.

His hand shot out and seized the soda, curling the can into his body with a brief bob of his head. “S’thanks.”

And someone had taught him manners, even if they looked like they’d been dragged out of his mouth kicking and screaming.

Taking a seat opposite him, I took a sip of coffee. Only sheer willpower and an iron tight hold on my lips kept the foul liquid inside my mouth. Forcing myself to swallow it, I couldn’t hold back the shudder.

A strange sound almost had me dumping the rest of the liquid that was masquerading as coffee in my lap.

Jared was laughing at me, the sound high and light, as if the kid didn’t have a world of heartbreak resting on his tiny shoulders. He cut it off with a click of his tongue. “The look on your face makes me glad I picked the soda.”

“Good choice.” Retrieving a can for myself, I washed my mouth out with fizzy, sugary lemon. “I’ve got to ask—” waving a hand in his direction, I shrugged, “it’s in the rule books, and I didn’t write them. How are you settling in here at Oakshaw?”

“You mean, do I like it?” A sneer curled his lip.

“No. This place sucks ass.” My unvoiced obviously hung in the air. Group homes made the best of a bad situation, but they weren’t a real home. And I should know. Even after a year of working as a caseworker full-time, my memories still collided every now and then, the past sneaking up on me and dragging me back to that little frightened girl whose world had ended in a shopping mall.

I’d been three to Jared’s seven, but age didn’t matter. When your family didn’t want you, the whole world sucked.

A grunt, then, “No one’s beating on me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good to hear.” I kept my voice light and easy, even though my heart was breaking for him, that his idea of okay was measured by fists and violence. Jared had been removed from his home by the courts, his parents washing their hands of him without a backward glance. More money for them to shoot into their veins, not that they’d ever spent anything on the kid. Even now, he was still skin and bones, his big brown eyes sunk against jutting cheekbones. “How’s school going?”

“It exists. I go.”

Better than a grunt. I thought my next statement through carefully, searching for triggers before putting it to voice, “School can be an escape from a reality that sucks.”

Not exactly Social Work 101, and probably breaking all the rules in the book, but the kid needed a bit of empathy, and that I could give. It was why I’d chosen this line of work, because—unlike all the people who’d grilled and poked and prodded me as a child—I did understand.

His expression was guarded. “You said sucks twice.”

“Ah, but I didn’t say life sucked ass. Life is what you decide to make of it.”

The sneer was back. “Like you’d know anything about that,” he mumbled under his breath.

Leaning forward, I caught his eye. “You’re right. I have a nice apartment, food in the fridge, and I can pay my bills. My life is pretty great at the moment.” I didn’t mention the fact that I was pretty sure I was slowly losing my marbles, with the dreams that felt so real, I woke with an ache that had burrowed into my bones, hammering inside my chest, the brain fog that surrounded me more and more sucking away my grip on reality. And then there was that weird … thing I could do, that I couldn’t explain.

He rocketed to his feet, tiny fists clenched at his sides, back ramrod stiff. “You’re a crappy caseworker.”

“Why?”

“Because … because…” he spluttered, sucking his cheeks in and taking a deep breath. “You’re supposed to make me feel better about myself.”

“Why should I bother?”

“Because it’s your job!” This was a shout, a scream, a cry for help if I’d ever heard one. It was also the first time he’d ever shown any real emotion. To anyone.

“My job is to show you a way to survive, to thrive, to kick life in the ass and take what you want, but I can’t do that if you don’t believe that you’re worth it.”

He blinked, still shaking, almost swaying on his feet. “Worth it? I’m a junkie’s kid. An accident that she would have terminated if she hadn’t been high and forgotten. I’m nobody.”

I stayed seated, even though I longed to jump up and give him a huge hug. To try and take away the pain. “No, that’s her. You’re Jared and you can decide what you want to do with your life. You’re not defined by your past, it doesn’t control you or own you. You can let go and become anyone you want to be.”

“How?”

Kaboom. Breakthrough.

* * *

Tucking the phone against my shoulder with my cheek, I balanced my purse on my knee and rummaged around inside. My fingers grazed cool metal. Bingo! Obviously my door keys were wedged right at the bottom, sharing space with what felt like an abandoned fuzz-covered toffee and enough receipts to wallpaper my tiny apartment.

“Come on, Blue, it’ll be fuuuun!” Jess’s voice in my ear had me grinning, her wheedling reaching almost epic proportions. Even for her.

Unlocking my door, I finally made it inside, dropping the keys, along with my purse and scarf on the kitchen counter, before collapsing onto the couch. “I wish I could…” I replied, leaving it hanging and hoping she’d get the hint. Toeing off my low heels, I spun around and achieved full on lazy mode, staring up at the ceiling while my best friend in the entire world continued to try and convince me that a night out on the town was a good idea.

“There’ll be alcohol…”

“I have a bottle of wine in the fridge.” Plucking my glasses off my nose, I defogged them on my shirt and popped them back on my nose.

“There’ll be dancing…”

“You’re saying this like it’s a good thing, why? Remember who you’re trying to ambush.”

“Huh. Okay.” I could almost hear her trying to backtrack, then, “But I think you look cute when you dance.”

“Try to dance,” I amended with a snigger, remembering the last little outing she’d dragged me on. I’d given some poor guy a black eye and I couldn’t even remember doing it.

“You’re energetic. It’s cute,” she insisted, sounding suitably enraged on my behalf, even though I was the one judging myself.

I wiggled my feet, admiring the way my big toe poked out of the hole in my tights. “Face it, I’m a klutz.”

“An enthusiastic klutz.” That was Jess, my constant defender and supporter, ever since we were little girls.

“Love you, Jessy.” I made a kissy noise.

Through the receiver, I heard her bedsprings squeak and imagined her rolling over to stare at her ceiling, a giggle escaping before she sucked in a deep breath.

I braced myself.

“There’ll be boys there…”

I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. She never gave up. The man from last night’s dream flashed to mind. Okay, and the night before, and the one before that. He’d been a reoccurring feature in my dream world for the last couple of weeks and yep, I wouldn’t say no to a man like that. Ridiculously masculine, his huge body was all hard muscles and hot, lickable skin. Dark, close-cropped hair, broad mouth with a sexy cupid’s bow. Intense brown eyes, flecked with gold and framed with thick eyebrows that intensified the whole rugged appeal he had going on. Oh, and the stubble. Scratchy in all the right ways. I shivered, my hand drifting to my lips, almost as if I could feel the phantom press of his mouth against mine.

And there I went again, sinking into fantasy land. He wasn’t real. No man was ever that perfect. See? I’d conjured the perfect man, yet another reminder that he wasn’t real and I was losing my mind.

But he sure was lickable, and if I was going to lick any man, it would be that one. Nial. I stuck my tongue out at the phone. “I’m not looking for a man.”

She snorted. “Of course you are.” Translation: we are.

Ah, now we were getting to it. “Things not going too well with Calvin?”

She made a rude noise, punctuating it with a drawn out sigh. “Calvin who?”

“Ah, right. He wasn’t good enough for you anyway.”

“Of course he wasn’t.”

Torn between the thought of an early night and my best friend in need, I pushed away the urge to be selfish and made the offer, “You want to talk about it?”

“Nope. I’m over him.” And I believed her. Jess wasn’t the type of girl to give a man a second chance, or thought. She had strict criteria when it came to dating, and if they failed one of her little tests, they were kaput. Dumped. Gone for good.

“About tonight,” I began, but she cut me off.

“Don’t worry about it, I have an essay due on Monday anyway. Probably could do with some study time.” She sounded reluctant, but I knew that’s because she had what she liked to call ‘an allergic reaction to anything un-fun’.

“Meet you tomorrow for coffee and cake?”

“Now you’re speaking my language!” She sounded a bit more cheerful so I was calling it a win.

Hanging up the phone, I let it drop onto my chest as the stress of the day evaporated. It was Saturday night and I had a whole twenty-four hours off before I had to face the world again. I didn’t count Jess, she was family. My only family. Now, was it acceptable for a woman in her twenties to go to bed at, I checked my watch, squinting, as if that might make a difference, uh, twenty past six? Probably not.

After grabbing a bowl of cereal—the food of kings. And students. And, in my case, overworked caseworkers with a savior complex—and with milk dripping down my chin, I settled in to enjoy a night with my book.

* * *

I laid the book down with a sigh. A world of sexy men who turn into wolves and bears? Sign me up, please! Accalia, one of my favorite authors, had outdone herself this time. Fanning myself, I slurped the last of my wine, scrunching my toes up in my oversize fluffy socks, which didn’t match my pajamas one bit, but what did I care? It wasn’t like any of those sexy shifter men were going to burst into my room and pin me to the couch. Nibble at my neck and growl in my ear. Use his large hands on my body until—

Spluttering, I tried to cough up the wine that had been sucked down the wrong hole, while an image of Nial danced before my eyes, of him pinning me to the couch, his eyes flashing amber and teeth decidedly sharp while he sliced my flannel pajamas away in one deadly stroke of his hand.

Ooooh, yeah. Maybe a bit too much wine for tonight. I frowned; I’d only had one glass.

Setting the glass down carefully, I nudged it away with my finger, removing temptation from easy reach. Next thing I knew, my dreams would be full of wolves chasing me and I would be the too-stupid-to-live heroine tripping over her own feet as she attempted to escape being devoured.

Nial could devour me…

Resisting the urge to slap myself up the side of the head for my one track mind, I settled for flicking on the TV, sleep still eluding me. Despite it now being way past ten and I wanted nothing more than to escape back to my dream world, where everything felt real and apparently I wasn’t a walking disaster zone.

Thinking about it, I’d been graceful there. Confident. Sure of myself and my irresistible womanly charms.

A snort escaped. Yup, way too much shifter romance for one night! Pulling a blanket off the back of the couch, I snuggled up, letting my eyes drift closed, the low buzz of the voices coming from the TV burbling away in the background.

A noise loud enough to startle shocked me off the couch, and I scrambled up from the floor, where I had fallen. A clunk? A bang? Whatever it had been, it had come from over by the window. I grabbed my glasses and put them on. Tiptoeing over, I inched the drapes back with a finger, peering out into the dimly lit street below. A streetlamp lit the sidewalk across from my apartment block, its neighbor still flickering on and off in jagged fits and starts, as it had been for two days now.

Nothing.

There was nothing there. Nobody on the street. No poor bird lying stunned and dazed from flying into a window.

Shaking off the sense of unease, I let the drape fall back, shutting out the night sky. But something prickled at the edge of my senses, the same kind of irrational fear that had me checking under my bed every night for monsters who might try to grab my ankles, or triple checking my door locks with an obsession that, no matter how many times I tried to convince myself was sensible for a woman living on her own in the city, I knew was a little over the top.

The feeling of being watched. Followed. Something out there looking for me. It swallowed me up sometimes, the fear digging its claws into me and convincing me that I wasn’t going crazy. That if I turned around fast enough, I’d see it. See him. And it had grown stronger the last couple of days.

There’s nothing there. Squeezing my hands into fists, I refused to go check the door, knowing full well that I’d triple checked the locks—twice—before settling down for the evening. Whirling around, I dragged the drapes back, forcing myself to look.

See? Nothing—

A man stood in the shadow of the flickering light, his face flashing in and out of the darkness. From this distance he was hardly more than a silhouette, a large man dressed in black, his pale skin catching the light and providing little detail.

I couldn’t even tell if he was looking at me.

He could be meeting someone. Watching another window. Waiting for his dog to come back. Star gazing, for all I knew.

But I knew. My hand crept to my chest, fist pressing between my breasts as I tried to calm my thundering heartbeat.

I knew. He was watching me.

A huge spider dropped down in front of my face.

I’d jumped back before I’d realized it, the drapes falling shut.

The spider’s outside, silly. And I was overreacting. Spiders were harmless, most of them anyway. The fear was irrational and something I thought I’d long grown out of, building up an immunity that came from living in group homes with girls who thought it was hilarious to put one of those creepy eight legged things in your bed, or drop one in your hair.

Safe in my apartment, surrounded by the sounds of the TV, with a front door that was most definitely locked tight, and enough light to reveal any lurking monsters, I shook off the strange feeling. “You’re imagining things.” My voice was loud and a little too high pitched for my liking.

Counting to three, I forced myself to peel back the drapes.

The man was gone. The spider was gone. The street was empty.

So, why was my heart still racing?