This couldn’t be where he meant to hide. It just couldn’t.

Adele pressed her lips together as he led her up a narrow staircase. The faded red carpet covering the steps was thin and filthy. She guessed the floor hadn’t been professionally cleaned in a decade…and that was being generous.

Adele pressed closer to Bron’s side as another resident turned the corner at the top and stumbled past them. The stench of stale alcohol drifted down the stairs with him. She scrunched up her nose and silently prayed that Bron knew what the hell he was doing.

And maybe he did. After all, no one was staring at them like they had been outside her apartment. In fact, no one even looked their way. As if the people who lived here made a point of not paying attention to anyone’s business but their own. Even she could see where that could come in handy.

Bron led her down a hallway, stopping in front of a door halfway down. He fished a key out of his pocket and opened the door. She hesitated, some deep part of her still not wanting to admit all this was really happening, but a moment later, a couple of heated shouts rose up from the lobby below and Adele rushed inside.

The room was small. Tiny really, but it felt a hell of a lot smaller the second Bron followed her.

She turned around to keep from looking at his naked chest. She was better off checking out the room instead.

Not that there was all that much to look at.

This couldn’t be his home. It just couldn’t be. The space was beyond Spartan, with a rickety bed against one wall, a simple wooden chair against the other, and no more than three feet of empty space between them. There was a closet, a tiny window cut into the wall, a small counter with a sink…and that was all.

This place didn’t feel like a hotel room as much as a prison cell. She went over to the chair and sat down. There was nowhere else to go. She folded her hands in her lap and focused on her breathing.

In…two…three, she counted. Out…two…three.

“Are you hurt?” Bron asked as he moved around the room.

She shook her head, keeping her gaze on her hands. “No.”

“The Redcap didn’t injure you?” He sounded surprised. She guessed goblin assassins weren’t known for their merciful ways.

“I think, at first, he was more curious about how I could hold the phoenix without burning.”

“Understandable,” he said.

“But that faded pretty quick,” she said. “If you hadn’t hit him when you did…”

Her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to say the words out loud. Hell, she didn’t even want to think them.

Bron stopped moving. The room became quiet.

“You froze again back in your apartment,” he said before the silence became too heavy.

“Again?”

“Like you did in the alley,” he said. “And outside the police station.”

She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that. It’s clear you’re not.”

A lump suddenly appeared in her throat. She pressed her hands together tighter.

“I say I’m fine because it’s what I want to be,” she admitted.

“Then what are you?”

He took a step closer, but she kept her eyes straight ahead. It was far easier to look at the wall in front of her than up at him.

“It’s complicated,” she said.

“Explain it to me anyway.”

She swallowed hard. All right then. She’d try. That was the least she owed him.

“I’ve been diagnosed with a few conditions,” she said. “Generalized anxiety and panic disorder are the major ones. Every few years I tend to go through periods of clinical depression.”

She could see him shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t understand.”

Of course he didn’t. Somehow she doubted they had psychiatrists and the DSM-5 where he came from. She had to find a way to make what happened in her head simple and clear.

“I can’t stop being afraid,” she said.

“Of what?”

“Of everything.”

“Like a prey animal?” he tried. His tone was genuinely curious without a trace of judgment. “You freeze when a predator comes too close.”

It wasn’t the world’s most flattering comparison, but she figured it was apt enough.

“You could say that,” she said. “Of course, before the Redcap I’ve never had any experience with actual predators.”

Bron narrowed his eyes. “Then how did you know this about yourself?”

Adele lifted her chin. She’d been fighting the stigma of mental health problems most of her life, but this moment was harder than most.

“Because having anxiety means that my brain can’t tell the difference between real danger and everyday situations. I see everything as a threat.”

“Everything?” He was quiet for a moment as he took in the full meaning of her words. “How do you live?”

“I take care of myself. I go to my doctor. I take my medicine and exercise.” A wry smile lifted her lips. “Most days it makes a big difference. But to be honest, some days the scary thoughts roll right over me and it’s all I can do to just get up and keep going.”

“But you do.” It wasn’t a question.

Adele looked up at him. His green eyes didn’t show an ounce of pity, but showed something close instead. Understanding?

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You go out in the world. You live your life. You persevere despite the constant fear,” he said. “That’s the definition of courage.”

A blush heated her face again, except for once this one wasn’t caused by embarrassment or shame.

“That’s not a word anyone uses to describe me,” she said.

His gaze stayed steady on hers. “I don’t care about anyone else. It’s the one I’m using.”

The sincerity in his eyes was almost unbearable. Not to mention drop dead sexy. Adele looked away before her gaze turned into another full-on stare. She unclasped her hands and looked around the small room. Of course, that didn’t take long. There wasn’t much to hold her attention.

The situation didn’t get any better when Bron sat on the bed across from her…so close she could reach out and trace her fingers over the hard ridges of his abs if she wanted.

And, dear God, she wanted.

It was all Adele could do to keep her eyes off his exposed body lounging against the mattress.

Seriously, she needed to get a grip. Her emotions were all over the place, jumping from fear, to shame, to plain ol’ lust just in a matter of minutes. She needed to get her mind on to something else quick.

“So, this is your place?” she asked.

“Not officially.”

Her brows bunched together above her nose. “What does that mean?”

“When we were first exiled from the Realm, we were scatted across the Earth,” he said. “A couple of months ago, James Hook brought us to San Francisco and purchased lodging.”

“So, you have a real apartment?” she asked.

He nodded. “I live off Clay, near the cafe.”

“Then what’s this?”

“Think of it as a hunting blind,” he said.

Adele swallowed down hard. “Except I’m guessing you don’t hunt pigeons out the window.”

“No. I haven’t had any reason to use this place or any of the others at all, until now.”

“Others?” she asked. “You mean you’ve rented more than one hovel?”

“Not all of them are rented rooms. I’ve scouted a few secluded areas scattered across the city for making camp, as well as a few other locations,” he said. “We’ll move back and forth between them while the Redcap is on our trail.”

“We’re staying in the city?” she asked. “Why? Shouldn’t we get out of here? Go someplace far away? Someplace where he couldn’t track us?”

Bron shook his head. “There’s no such place. The moment we leave this area, we’re alone. We wouldn’t be able to go to Merlin or any of the other exiles for help. Oberon’s magicians would find us in a matter of seconds.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” she said. “I guess you expected something like this to happen.”

“Not exactly like this.” A hint of a smile showed on his face as he looked her in the eye. “I thought I’d be the one hunting, not the one seeking refuge in the wilderness.”

She let out a little laugh. “You consider this place a refuge?”

“Of course,” he said. “It has everything we need.”

“Except a way to escape.”

“Not true,” Bron said. “There are two options—out that window, an easy ten-foot drop to an open alley, or a metal ladder that leads to the roof.”

Adele blinked. “And what are we supposed to do if we’re forced to go up there?”

“This building’s roof is less than a five-foot jump to two other rooftops,” he answered. “Both with multiple ways down to the street.”

Impressive. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“I have,” he said. “It’s okay, Adele. You’re safe.”

She understood his words, but she couldn’t make herself believe. Not completely. All she could remember was the sound of her door splintering apart. The Redcap had kicked through it so easily, like it had been made of cardboard instead of solid wood.

Bron had been right. All her locks, all the bolts, they’d been useless. Now the only place that she’d ever felt truly safe was gone. Destroyed in a matter of seconds.

No matter what he said, she couldn’t believe that this tiny room, with its thin walls and sketchy neighbors, was any safer.

“That’s the same thing your friend Merlin said.” She shifted in the chair. “He promised that magic stone would protect us, but the Redcap found us anyway.”

Bron’s mouth pressed into a hard line. He lifted his chin. She got the feeling that she’d somehow insulted him.

“I am not Merlin. I’ve never made a promise I couldn’t keep. Not to you. Not to anyone,” he said with an intensity in his voice that bordered on frightening. “And I can promise you this, I will never lie to you, Adele. I will never fill you with false hope. I will only tell you the truth, because I know you can handle it. So, when I say that for the moment you are safe, you can trust that I mean it.”

Adele couldn’t help but straighten up in her seat. She believed him. Really believed him. Why shouldn’t she? He’d been straight with her from the very beginning, even when lies would have been easier. He’d saved her life multiple times. Hell, he’d just taken one hell of a beating for her.

Oh God.

Adele lowered her gaze and took a look at Bron’s body—a real look—for the first time since running from her apartment. Red marks and abrasions peppered both sides of his body. Dark bruises were already pushing their way up to the surface. There were even a few scrapes and cuts. Nothing major, nothing pouring out blood, but he clearly needed some attention.

She flew from the chair.

“I am so sorry,” she said. “I’m such an ass. A total jerk. You should have told me to shut up.”

His brows pulled together. “What are you talking about?”

“I was so worried about myself I didn’t stop to see if you were hurt.”

“I’m all right,” he said.

She cocked her fists on her hips and shot him her sternest look. “You just swore you weren’t going to lie.”

“I’m not lying,” he said, obviously unimpressed with her glaring skills. “These injuries aren’t even worth mentioning. They’re nothing.”

“Well, then you and I have very different definitions of nothing.”

She didn’t bother arguing. She just turned and went to the closet, shuffling around inside for a first aid kit, a box of bandages, a bottle of antiseptic…anything.

No luck.

She pulled down a washcloth and towel instead. Looked like she’d have to make these work.

When she turned around, Bron was staring at her with his brows pulled down hard.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like,” she said. “I’m going to patch you up.”

She did her best to ignore his gaze burning a hole in her back as she walked over to the counter. She opened the cupboard, found a clean bowl and filled it with warm water.

“They’re scratches,” he said. “I’ll see to them soon enough.”

She tightened her jaw and turned around. “Before or after you get an infection in this nasty place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

“That’s right, you will,” she told him. “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

She put the bowl on the floor next to his feet and kneeled by his side. She dipped the washcloth into the bowl. Bron reached out and stilled her hand before she could wring it out.

She looked up into his narrowed eyes. Open confusion showed on his face. “You don’t have to worry about me, Adele. I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” she said, smiling up at him. “But you don’t have to.”

* * *

“Sorry,” Adele said, pushing his hand away. “This might sting a little.”

Bron tensed as she brought the edge of the damp washcloth up to his side, but not because he actually expected any kind of real pain. No, it was the sight of Adele kneeling before him, her bright red hair falling over her shoulders, her hands small and trembling as she reached out to touch him.

She shook, but not in fear.

After studying her for one full day he had no trouble believing that she was ruled by anxiety. It answered so many of his questions. But even though she claimed to be afraid of almost everything in this world, there was one thing he knew for a fact didn’t scare her.

Him.

He made her tremble with another emotion entirely. One that was just as primal, but a hell of a lot more enjoyable.

And he obviously felt the same way toward her. Even now, his blood heated at just the promise of her touch…even though all she was going to do was clean a few scratches.

He still couldn’t figure out why she was doing this. She didn’t need an excuse to touch him, if that’s what she wanted. He’d made it clear last night he wouldn’t turn her away.

Something was different about her touch. Something careful. Something gentle. There was nothing hungry about the way she swept the cloth across his skin. Instead, she went slowly, making sure not to press too hard, trying not to cause him any more pain.

Because she wasn’t acting on lust. She actually cared about him.

Bron sucked in a breath at the realization.

Adele bit into her lip and looked up at him apologetically with her big blue eyes. “Sorry, I’m doing my best not to hurt you.”

“I know,” he said. “You’re doing fine.”

She dipped her head. “I’m afraid some of these scratches are going to leave scars.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “They’ll blend right in with all the rest.”

The corners of her mouth pulled down. “You do have a lot of them.”

Strange. He’d never had a woman complain about them before. “You think they’re ugly?”

“It’s not that,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t like what they mean. Some of these look like you were hurt pretty bad.”

Bron shrugged. “Hunting is a dangerous job.”

She glanced up at him. “Have you ever considered doing something else?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m a hunter. It’s who I am.”

“Okay, it’s your job,” she said, rinsing the blood off the washcloth. “But that’s different than who you are.”

“We don’t make such distinctions in the Realm.”

“Really?” she asked, shooting him a skeptical look as she slid around to work on his other side. “Then tell me, if you’re nothing more than a killer, why did you risk your life to save mine?”

“Simple,” he said. “It’s my duty to make sure the Redcap doesn’t recapture the phoenix.”

“Of course. Your duty,” Adele said with a tight nod. “Makes perfect sense. Except…”

“Except what?”

“Except I hadn’t grabbed the phoenix yet when you first defended me in the alley,” she said. “And you had no idea the crystal was in my pocket when you followed me to the police station.”

“No, but my instincts told me he’d come looking for you, and that would be my best opportunity to take him down.”

“Ah,” she said, leaning in to get a closer look at one of his deeper cuts. “So, you’ve only been helping me for purely selfish reasons.”

Of course he was. What other kinds of reasons were there?

“I’ve only done what’s necessary,” he said.

“Like giving me the coat off your back,” she said, shooting him a sly smile.

“Careful, Adele.” His tone hardened. “You’d be foolish to mistake me for a hero.”

“Don’t worry. I can’t imagine anyone that naïve.”

“Good,” he said. “Besides, you wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked, stilling her hand long enough to look up at him. “Oh God, you’re not. Come on, Bron. You have to know none of this is your fault.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “If I’d been paying more attention I would have known that you would have followed me out into the alley.”

She let out a laugh. “How could you have known that?”

“Because I know the effect I have on women.”

Her mouth fell open. She blinked in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I only meant your attraction to me isn’t unusual.”

“I am not attracted to you,” she shot back, her tone suddenly defensive.

“Yes, you are.”

“You’re delusional,” she said, shifting uncomfortably at his side. “Not every woman you meet is lusting after your body, you know.”

“That’s true.” Now it was his turn to smile. “Not every woman. Just most…and most definitely you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She shook her head hard, breaking eye contact with him. She ducked her head and went back to work on his wounds, but not fast enough for him to miss the hot red blush searing her cheeks.

“I’m not,” he said. “What I am is observant. I have to be.”

“Because of your job as an assassin?”

“Hunting isn’t mindless killing, Adele,” he said, gazing at the top of her head. “I have skills I’ve been honing since before your fairy tales were born. I know how to track, how to watch from the shadows, how to read the intentions my targets try to hide. I know what every emotion looks like, every involuntary reflex a soul could make. I know how to read every single one.”

Adele froze. She let out a shaky breath. Her hand started to tremble again.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” she said, her voice cracking just a little at the end. “But you’ve read me all wrong.”

He dropped his voice. “Have I?”

He crooked his finger under her chin and lifted her head. She didn’t fight or turn away. His blood heated and desire pooled low in his belly at the sight of her on her knees, and her bright sapphire eyes.

“Your pupils dilate when you look at me, Adele,” he said. “Your breath becomes shallow. Your pulse quickens.”

Her tongue snaked out and wet her lower lip. Bron’s gaze snapped to the sensual sight. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and taste the sweetness of her mouth.

No, that wasn’t true. What he wanted more than anything was the thrill of victory when she finally admitted her own desires and begged him to kiss her…to show her every sweet moment of pleasure he could grant her.

And she was so close to that point. He could see it in her eyes. Closer than she’d ever been before.

The flush moved from her cheeks to her chest, disappearing under the collar of her shirt. And this time that blush had nothing to do with embarrassment.

She sucked in a shaky breath and opened her mouth.

“T-Those could be signs of fear,” she said.

All right. Maybe she wasn’t there just yet.

“Could be,” he said, not willing to give up. “But then there’s that flush that lights up your skin.”

He raised a hand and traced his knuckles down the curve of her cheek. Her skin felt soft. So soft. And that was just her face. He couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of her felt like—her belly, her breasts, the juncture of her thighs.

“And the way your lips part when you look at mine,” he continued. “And the way you push back your hair, exposing your neck. And—”

“Okay,” she said, suddenly wrenching her head away. “I get it. You’re very good at reading people.”

“So, you admit that you want me.”

Her lips pressed together. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

His brows pulled together. He didn’t understand. She’d been close to pure arousal just a moment ago, but now another emotion altogether lit up her eyes.

“Desire is nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, trying to reassure her.

“Oh, I’m not ashamed,” she said, turning her attention back to his chest. “I’m angry. After that little speech, I figured you’d be able to tell the difference.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I know exactly what you meant to do.” She cast him a disapproving look. “But just because you can do your little parlor trick, doesn’t mean you have any right to. My feelings are my own, Bron. They’re mine to share, mine to keep private, mine to do whatever the hell I want with.”

He cocked a brow. “Adele—”

“Nope. You’ve talked enough. It’s my turn now,” she said, wiping the cloth across his belly and cleaning off the last of the blood and sweat. Even though her tone was harsh, her touch stayed gentle. “I get it. You’re a good-looking guy. You’re rugged, and muscular, and apparently used to people acting like animals around you…but that’s not me.”

“We’re all animals, Adele.”

“Maybe where you come from,” she said. “But here, we’ve done a pretty good job domesticating ourselves. We put locks on our doors, we cherish our personal space, and some of us need a better reason than hormones to jump into bed with every hot guy we see.”

She slammed the cloth down in the bowl, sending a wave of water cresting over the side. Then she propped her hands on her knees and lifted herself up off the floor. She moved to the closet, throwing the door open so forcefully the hinges groaned. She yanked a piece of clothing down from a hanger. She crumpled it into a ball before tossing it at the center of his chest.

“And for the love of God, put on a damned shirt.”