Under His Skin (10 page)

Ana closed her eyes and fought to take a deep slow breath. She had to calm down. She’d already lost the advantage the image of a vulnerable lonely maiden had afforded her, thanks to her own temper. Now she needed a new plan.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Over and over she pulled fresh air into her lungs, held it, and then slowly exhaled. She could do this. She just had to think.

An image of Brec hovered in her mind. What did she know about him? He was a frequent customer of Mrs. Downing, a sort of doctor he’d said. She also knew that he was gullible. The way his face had softened when she started to cry and the gentle tone he’d used when he told her he couldn’t stay also told her that he was a kind soul. All in all, the evidence suggested he wouldn’t hurt her.

Rhythmic thuds against the wooden floor outside her bedroom signaled Brec’s return. Not knowing what her new angle was yet, Ana just tried to keep her face as blank as she could when he came into the room. She needed to get to know him a little better in order to figure out the best way to make him let her go. Everyone had a weakness. Kind people had more.

The selkie strode over to the fireplace set into the wall to her right. Ana’s stomach dropped as she noticed his arms were full.

“What are you doing?”

Brec dropped the load of wood he’d been carrying to the floor beside the fireplace. He glanced over at her for a moment before turning his attention to the task at hand.

“It’s freezing in here. Since I have no intention of giving you my fur to keep warm—as you seem to prefer—I thought you’d like to have some heat.”

Ana’s heart beat faster as she watched him load three large logs into the hearth. The icy touch of fear slithered down her spine. She had to try twice before she could speak.

“I don’t want a fire,” she said lightly, ignoring the hoarseness of her voice. “This is a very modern
cabin,
just turn the thermostat up a bit.”

Brec frowned. “That will take longer to heat this room than a fire.”

“I don’t mind. Please, just don’t light that.” She held her breath, her eyes locked on the wood in the fireplace as if she would will it not to burn. A little voice inside her was already screaming in panic, imagining the sound of flames crackling in the fireplace. The smell of burning fur . . .

Brec stood and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “Fine, suit yourself. Where’s the thermostat?”

Relief weakened Ana’s muscles so she sagged in her restraints. In that moment she loved the selkie.
“On the wall to the right of my bedroom door when you go out.”

Without looking back at her, Brec nodded and stalked out of her room. When he disappeared around the doorframe, Ana let out the breath that had caught in her throat when he approached the fireplace. He must have found the logs outside.

A mental picture of the mighty stack of firewood under the tarp against the east wall of her cabin floated in her mind. Before she’d lost her skin to a hearth of hungry flames, she’d enjoyed few things in human form. A roaring fire had been one of them. She’d spent most of her human evenings curled up in front of the dancing flames, reading a book or just enjoying the warmth. Her pile of firewood had been tremendous, a towering stack that she’d thought would last her forever.

It turns out, she was right. It would last forever because she would never allow one to be burnt in her home. Not the flicker of a
candle,
or the tiniest wisp of smoke would ever come within a hundred yards of her beloved fur. What was left of
it.

She bit her lip against the pain that rose inside her. Brec would come back into the room any second. When he did, her face had to be calm and unreadable. He didn’t need to know how she felt about fire. No sense in giving him something he could use against her. Not when his goal was so adverse
to her own
.

A shiver ran down her body and she cursed the selkie. She’d been so preoccupied with the chaos this night had descended into, she hadn’t noticed the cold. Now she couldn’t ignore it. Turning her face to bury it against her arm, Ana wondered how hard it would be to coax Brec into letting her get dressed. For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, she cursed herself for letting her temper get the better of her.

“Here.” Brec’s voice startled her and she jerked her head up just in time to see him throw a blanket over her body. The thick dark brown material settled over her and almost instantly a tiny layer of heat began to build. Ana raised her eyebrows in surprise as she recognized it as the
velvety
 
down
comforter she kept stored in the linen closet.
 

“How thoughtful,” she murmured.

Brec hesitated for a moment before tucking the comforter firmly around her. Ana watched him with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. What kind of a man was this selkie, to treat her with such consideration after what she’d done? Why didn’t he keep her bared to the cold, using the promise of warmth to leverage the information he needed from her?

She stared at him as if she could see through him to discover his true motive. Once again, she couldn’t help but be struck by how handsome he was. The legends all described selkies as an attractive people, hence the stories, but Brec seemed to be a particularly fine specimen. He was a giant, all hard planes and swelling muscles, but he was a healer. He looked like he’d been born for brute force, and yet he’d obviously chosen to help people instead of hurt them. Ana’s throat constricted with an emotion that felt suspiciously like longing. If only she’d met him under other circumstances.

Suddenly Brec froze, staring down at his hands as he tucked the comforter around her. He jerked away, his face flushing.
Ana frowned.
He looked almost embarrassed.
And angry at the same time.

“I’m not going to let you freeze to death,” he snapped suddenly. “I’m willing to treat you with as much kindness as I can until you force me to do otherwise.”

Ana’s lips parted in surprise. Where had that outburst come from?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned down and roughly continued to tuck the comforter around her. “It means you obviously have no problem ruining people’s lives. I should let you freeze until you tell me where those skins are.” He shook his head. “But I’m going to give you a chance to think about it first. If you can find a shred of decency long enough to tell me where you hid them, I’ll let you go and you’ll never have to see me again. If not, then don’t expect this kind of treatment for much longer.”

Ana just stared at him, her earlier thoughts about what a good man he must be shattering with every angry jerk of the blanket. Suddenly
her own
temper flared. It wasn’t the first time she’d been wrong about what kind of person a man was. But it would be the last.

The heat underneath the blanket continued to build as the cool air currents were blocked from sneaking under the soft material. As the chill began to leave her flesh, Ana found it easier to concentrate. She studied Brec’s face, her desire to find a weakness renewed by his terse outburst.

She had no weapons, not even any clothes. He wasn’t going to feel sorry for her again, that was clear. Ana tilted her head, an idea beginning to form in her brain. Logically, there was really only one option open to her in her current state. Her gaze slid over his muscled chest and broad shoulders. Actually, she was starting to feel pretty good about her option.

Ana paused, mind furiously working to remember their earlier encounter in full detail. Had he seemed affected by the sight of her nakedness? Had his eyes lingered on her breasts or between her legs? Had he seemed aroused?

She didn’t remember. Demons take it, she’d been too angry to pay attention. Thinking fast, she waited for him to tuck the comforter under her upper body. When his hands slid the material underneath her, she thrust her chest up a little more than necessary and let out a little sound halfway between a sigh and a moan.

He froze, his gaze darting to her face before riveting back to the comforter. By the time he stepped away he’d regained his composure, but it was too late. She’d heard the hitch in his breath, seen the dilation of his pupils. Satisfaction tickled her pride as her hopes climbed. It seemed seduction was a possibility.

Ana looked at Brec with new eyes.
When he’d walked into Mrs. Downing’s shop earlier, she’d felt an instant attraction.
And why not?
Six foot six, muscles that showed even beneath his coat, and eyes that glittered like black pearls—there was plenty to be attracted to. She smiled. Perhaps everything would turn out for the best. She may even get some enjoyment out of her brief stint in captivity.

“It’s only a matter of time before I find the skins.”

Brec’s voice startled her out of her thoughts.
Ana stared at him, the mention of skins souring her earlier happy thoughts.
She tried to think of something to say to him, but nothing she could think
of
seemed like it would improve her situation. She kept silent, trying to look small and vulnerable.

“I don’t know what would make you steal something like that—something that sucks the life out of your victim,” Brec continued stiffly. “But I hope someday you find out what it feels like to lose something so precious that every day you have to fight to keep going without it.” He turned to leave.
“If you want to make things right, just call for me.
I’m not leaving until I find them. And you will stay tied up for now because I don’t trust you not to slit my throat in my sleep.”

His cold insinuation slapped her across the face and indignant anger burned in Ana’s belly.

“I’m not the one who was waving a knife around,” she snapped. “What makes you think I’d kill anyone?”

He turned back to stare at her, his anger flaring in his eyes. “You just don’t understand what a skin means to a
skinwalker
.” He shook his head. “It would have been kinder to kill me.”

Turning on his heel he walked out of her bedroom, leaving the door open as he disappeared down the stairs at the end of the short hallway. She watched him go with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify eating at her nerves.

Fuck him. I’m not a killer.
Against her will, all the pain of the last two years swarmed around her, buzzing with misery in her ears until it was all she could think about. She pressed her lips together, thinking of her own fur and what it was like when she lost it. All the nights she’d lain in bed contemplating suicide swirled through her mind like a cloud of angry bees. Sagging back against the pillows, she finally recognized the emotion souring her belly.

Guilt.

She closed her eyes. “Fuck,” she whispered.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

Ana’s eyes shot open. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for the source of the voice. The pale blue curtains that hung around the window to her left hung straight and still, no signs of an intruder there. The small dresser next to the window still held the small covered bowl she’d mixed the herbs in earlier. The sight of the incomplete spell filled Ana with fresh determination. She had to get out of these bonds so she could try this last spell. It would work, she knew it would.

The voice faded from her mind until suddenly a weight on her stomach drew her attention. The world turned red as she found the pixie who was the cause of her current misery perched on her blanket-covered midsection.

“You!” she hissed, almost choking on the surge of her own anger. “How dare you show your face to me?”

“Why don’t you give them back?”

His question halted the scathing insults that had leapt into her head at the sight of him. There was no judgment in his voice, no disgust. He just sounded . . . curious. Momentarily thrown, she narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“The skins you steal. Why don’t you give them back after they don’t work?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered. With the guilt Brec had managed to inflict on her with his parting shot, this was the last conversation she wanted to have. Already her mind was thumbing through the many imaginary images she’d created over the past six months. Images of what the
skinwalkers
must be going through without their skins. Her stomach rolled and she quickly pictured the iron chest in her mind and shoved all the thoughts inside it. She turned her gaze away from the pixie, trying to escape his tiny curious gaze. The little weight on her stomach didn’t move.