Primal Heat 04 - Forever in Darkness

on her heels, while James was just kicking back in his
rainbow-spotted shirt making drinks like he always did.
    "Where have you been?" he
asked, shooting her a warm grin.
    "Dead," she answered, too
frantic to bother making up an answer. And why bother? He wouldn't believe her
anyway. Who would?
    "Yeah, you and me both."
James pulled the tap and filled a tall glass with an amber liquid. "You want
to fill in tonight?"
    "No, God, no." She hadn't
worked there in ages, since everything fell apart. "I need to talk to Flynn.
Is he here?"
    James gave her a friendly leer.
"You finally decide to put the guy out of his misery and sleep with
him?"
    Alice felt her cheeks heat up.
"Dammit, James, I don't have time for that. I need to find him. Where is
he?" Flynn was the one person who could help her. She hadn't talked to him
in months, not since that horrific night, but she didn't know where else to
turn.
    James's smile faded as he realized
she was serious. He swore, set the beer on the counter in front of a customer
and walked over to her. He leaned toward her, his scarred fingers gripping the
shiny wood. "Flynn has been a mess since that night," he said quietly.
"Don't track him down. He's too dangerous. Especially to you."
    Alice saw the truth in James's
eyes, and her heart sank. "But I need him. I don't have anywhere else to
turn."
    James shook his head. "Find
someone else to help," he said. "You don't want to unleash what's
inside of him. You really don't."
    Guilt rippled through Alice,
because she knew she was partially responsible for what Flynn had become. But
she had no choice. Without Flynn, she had no chance at all. "I have to
take the risk," she said. "He's my only chance." She'd held off
trying to find Flynn, knowing how dangerous it would be to connect with him
again, but this last round with death had made her realize she had no choice
but to act now.
    She'd rather have her death be at Flynn's
hands, knowing that she'd done everything she could to save her sister, than to
get run over by a bus and know she hadn't had the guts to track him down.
    James shook his head in regret.
"He'll be in later tonight," he finally said. "But you should
take that cute little ass of yours out that door and be gone by then."
    Fear rippled through Alice, but she
shook her head. "I can't."
    "Then good luck." James's
face was grim, and he leaned over and kissed her forehead. Alice closed her
eyes at the feel of his lips brushing against her skin, her throat tightening
at the expression of affection from the man she considered such a dear friend.
James turned away without another word, but she saw the tightness of his mouth
and knew he believed that this was the last time he would ever see her.
    And she knew he was probably right,
one way or another.
    Tears burned in her eyes as she
turned away from him, fighting against the swell of loneliness. Then she fisted
her hands and lifted her chin as she surveyed the room for Flynn. Dammit. She
would not fall apart now. She didn't have time. She had to focus on her sister—
    Her gaze settled on a man in the
corner of the bar. Adrenaline leapt through her and awareness pulsed low in her
belly at the sight of the stranger. He was tall, taller than most of the males
in the bar. His shoulders were wide, cut sharply with thick, strong muscle, but
his body was so lean he looked as if he hadn't eaten in months. He was all
muscle, no fat. He was looking in the other direction, giving her a clear view
of his profile. His jaw was tight, and there were sunken hollows deep in his
cheeks, a man who had suffered something horrible.
    Her heart tightened. She almost
took a step toward him, drawn to both his strength and his suffering, both of
which were so extreme that she could feel them resonating through her. He was
wearing dark jeans and heavy black boots. Motorcycle boots? Even though he was
so broad and heavily muscled, his black tee shirt hung loosely on him, as if
he'd lost a vast amount of weight and no longer fit into it.
    His dark hair was ragged and long,
tousled carelessly as if he hadn't thought about combing it in months, and his
whiskers had been long neglected by a razor. He was a man on the edge, a
warrior who was being haunted by nightmares that were destroying him. God, she
knew what that was like, and she was suddenly consumed with the need to cross
the dance floor and touch him, just to feel his skin beneath her hand—
    He turned his head suddenly, and
looked right at her.
    Alice froze