He snorted. “No kidding.”

She leaned even closer, sliding her hands up his shoulders.

Her nearness affected him, making him want to pull her closer.

Idiot.

He caught her wrists. “Don’t play with me, Kate.”

“You’re still bleeding.”

“I’ll live.”

She rolled her eyes skyward, then leaned forward, her hands still trapped by his. Her breath eased against his throat, full of power, cool and hot at the same time.

He shivered before he could help it. Her full weight was on his hands. If he let go, she’d be against his chest, practically in his lap.

He pushed her back. “Stop.”

She drew back, but only enough to stare into his eyes. “You have a lot of enemies.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that. She was right.

“Sounds exhausting,” she said softly.

“You have no idea.”

“I don’t think I’m an enemy,” she whispered.

God, he was so tired of fighting with people. He let go of her wrists. “Do what you want.”

Her hands found his shoulders again, and she leaned forward. When her breath touched his skin, he closed his eyes. Power flared in the air to find the blood on his neck. He shivered.

Her voice was low, husky. “My mother used to say that the hardest part of being a Fifth was fighting the urge to help your enemies.”

“My father used to say the same thing.” Then he opened his eyes. “Is that why you’re helping me now?”

“No.” Her thumb stroked along his neck, and it didn’t even sting. “I think that’s why you’re helping the Merricks.”

“They’re really helping me.”

“Really? Did they follow you through the fire to stop Calla?”

He froze. No. They hadn’t. Gabriel had pulled him out of the fire—but Hunter had gone to face Calla alone.

“Are they helping you,” said Kate, “or are they keeping an enemy close?”

He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about this already. Hadn’t Gabriel used those exact words the other night? Hadn’t Nick demanded to see his text messages? Michael had asked him to help with his landscaping jobs. Was he being nice—or was he making sure he knew where Hunter was?

When Hunter and Gabriel had been fighting Calla’s fires, Michael had done the same thing to Gabriel, dragging him all over town under the pretense of being brotherly.

Michael had talked about leaving town—in a week. Leaving Hunter here with nothing but a mess they’d all been part of.

“There are still more Elementals in town, aren’t there?” said Kate.

“Yeah.”

“You’re in a good position to help us find them.”

“Sure.” Hunter made no attempt to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I’d love to help the guy who shot me.”

“He thought you were working with the girl who started the fires.”

“Why the hell would he think that?”

“Because you were negotiating with her.”

Hunter glared at her. “I wasn’t negotiating. I was trying to get her to stop—”

“I know. I know.” She paused. “And he knows. Now.”

Hunter sighed and glanced away. That familiar guilt was trapping him. Did he owe the Merricks anything? Was he betraying them by even being here? All this indecision was almost painful.

Then he realized: did it matter? They’d be gone in a week.

He stared back at Kate, at the crystal blue of her eyes, which were just now beseeching him.

“How am I supposed to keep you a secret?” he asked, his voice rough.

Then, just like last night, she was in his lap before he was ready, her fingers in his hair, her lips warm against his. It was like she had power in this, like the feel of her lips and her skin and her breath could control him. His hands grabbed her hips, finding an inch of skin between her jeans and the tank top.

Every Elemental in town could attack him right this instant and he wouldn’t care.

Everything about her kiss was so Kate, aggressive and gentle at the same time, like an attack you didn’t know to defend yourself from until it was too late.

Power surged in the air around them, and now, alone, no secrets between them, he did nothing to hold it back. His hand slid up her side, and she didn’t protest. He kissed his way down her jaw, along her neck, aware that the temperature in the woods had turned downright tropical. She smelled like something tropical, too, mangoes or papayas or something sweet and edible.

Suddenly, she was pulling at his T-shirt, and he drew back to help her.

But then her cell phone chimed.

Twice.

It hit him like a bucket of cold water.

He was already trying to disentangle himself from her—but now she grabbed his shoulders. “Stop,” she whispered. “Stop. I told you—he’s not my boyfriend.”

Yeah, maybe not. But that didn’t mean this was . . . real.

Idiot, his subconscious was yelling. You’re an idiot.

Kate leaned in again, touching her forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first morning I saw you.”

“All part of the plan, right?”

She flung herself off him. “You think all my text messages were part of some plan?” She kicked him in the leg. “You ass**le . You think I can’t separate what I’m doing here from what I think about you?”

He glared up at her. “I don’t know, Kate. Maybe I can’t keep up.”

“Jesus, don’t you trust anybody?”

“No, and I’m pretty sure you don’t, either.”

She stared back at him, her chest rising and falling as rapidly as his. She didn’t say anything, and that said it all right there.

“What do your text messages say?” Hunter demanded. “Is he checking up on how things are coming along with me?”

“He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Sure.”

Her breathing was fast and rapid, her cheeks flushed.

Then she reached into her pocket, jerked out her phone, and tossed it at him. “Go ahead, see for yourself.”

He slid his finger across the screen, then glanced up. “Code?”

“Nine-six-seven-four.”

He hit the keys and her phone opened. He pushed the icon for text messages. Silver was in bold letters at the top.

When you say you’re going for a walk, I don’t expect you to disappear for two hours.

Do not make me come looking for you, Kathryn.

“Wow,” Hunter said. “He sounds charming.”

Kate grabbed the phone out of his hands. “He’s doing his job.” Then she slid her fingers along the screen, texting back.

After a moment, his own phone chimed, and Hunter grabbed it from his pocket.

She’d sent him a message.

I don’t want to be your enemy, Hunter.

While he was looking, another message appeared.

Silver was going to kill you last night. I stopped him.

He didn’t look at her, just texted back.

Why?

Because I understand you. And I think you understand me.

He sighed. Another message appeared.

I don’t want anyone to get hurt, either.

Before he could text back, she caught his hands between hers, cradling the phone. She looked up at him. “We can stop them, Hunter. We can. We can stop all of this from happening again.”

He blew out a breath. “How?”

“Find out who was working with her. We’ll take care of it and leave you alone.”

She was using him. It was obvious. He knew it, and she knew it.

But what would his father have wanted? For Hunter to hide with the Merricks?

“I don’t know who was working with her,” he said.

“Can you find out?”

He kept thinking about that kid who’d been with Calla in his house. Who was he?

They’d probably have pictures of the missing kids on the news. He could start there. Maybe it would lead to nothing—but maybe it would lead to a whole lot of something.

“I only have one lead,” he said. “It might not go anywhere.”

“But you’ll help?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s enough for now.” She kissed him on the cheek and then was gone.

Hunter didn’t check his other messages until he was in the jeep. He had a text from Gabriel.

All OK?

Hunter sat there and stared at the screen for the longest time. He thought of the gunshot, of Gabriel saving his life, of the arguments in the Merrick house, of the whispers about leaving, the quick action to shut up when they heard Hunter in the hallway. He thought of Calla. He thought of Kate, of Silver.

He thought of his father.

Then he typed back quickly.

Yep. Be back soon.

Then he clicked off the phone and started the engine.

Silver was waiting for her, sitting at the table, checking his weapons.

Kate deliberately took her time getting through the door, putting her sunglasses away, running lip gloss over her lips in front of the mirror in the front hall.

She gasped when Silver grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“Did he agree?” he said evenly.

“Let me go.”

“Answer me.”

“Yeah, he agreed. Now let me go, before I make you.”

Silver half smiled. “Now I’m curious. Make me.”

She didn’t hesitate—just swung a fist into his midsection.

He blocked, of course. She was ready for it, using his momentum to throw an elbow into his groin.

She wasn’t ready for his fist to smack into the side of her face. She wasn’t ready for the room to go sideways.

Thank god the front hallway was carpeted.

Silver left her there. “The problem, Kathryn, is that you assume people won’t want to hit that pretty face.”

No, the problem was that she’d assumed Silver wouldn’t hurt her. That he’d play, the way Hunter had at the carnival.

Stupid.

She tried to convince her joints to work. Her head was still spinning, and for an instant, she couldn’t figure out which stretch of drywall was supposed to be the ceiling.

Her cheek ached. “I could stab you in your sleep,” she said.

“You could try. I feel rather certain that you’d find a similar result.”

Tears were burning at her eyes, and she told them to go away. Silver could probably sense the water threatening to spill over her cheeks anyway.

Hunter was supposed to be her enemy, but she couldn’t ever imagine him doing that.

She thought of the way he’d warned his friend about those bullies at the carnival last night, the way Gabriel Merrick had gone storming across the fairgrounds to confront them.

Or how Nick Merrick had invited her to sit with him at lunch.

Silver had chastised her for letting those people off the Ferris wheel. The ends justify the means.

She needed to get off the floor. She fought for balance and remembered the confrontation with the Water Elemental that had led to her mother’s death.

Keep that memory fresh.

But there were other memories, later ones, that threatened to cloud her judgment.

She needed to remember the moment her mother had died, everything that had gone wrong that night.

The Merricks might not have been evil, but they weren’t all good, either. They couldn’t be. She’d spent her life hearing about the dangers of full Elementals.

She dropped into the chair at the table, where Silver had gone back to checking his weapons. She didn’t really want to be sitting here with him, but she wasn’t entirely sure she could manage the walk to her bedroom.

She gingerly moved her jaw and didn’t think it was broken.

Even if it were, she’d never in a million years ask Silver to use power to heal it for her.