TAMED | FREENBECKY

23

The evening after the full moon, Freen struggled with what her next step should be. She was in for another intense time-the nights before and after the full moon didn't trigger a transformation, but the moon's intoxicating pull made it difficult for her to think clearly-yet she couldn't fathom not reaching out to Becca in some way.

The cynical part of Freen told her to just let their relationship go, to try to forget the fantasy of having a true life-partner. Becca had just been a diversion, albeit a magnificent one, but Freen couldn't get back what she'd lost. Telling Becca the truth about her nature was just asking for further heartbreak, and she couldn't sell any other lie. At least not without setting herself up for a greater fall when, inevitably, that story would crumble just like the going-out-of-town one had. Setting Becca up for a lifetime of lies and betrayal wasn't fair for either of them.

Not if she really loved Becca.

But Freen didn't know how to simply walk away. More than that, she refused to turn her back on Becca now. A maniac out there had attacked her once and would surely try again. In the meantime, he'd kill other innocent women in service of some sick game only he understood. Leaving Becca to face that threat alone wasn't an option. Dasha could only protect her so much. Freen could do things that might possibly mean the difference between tracking down Becca's stalker and letting him hurt the most precious thing in Freen's life.

Even if Becca no longer belonged to her, Freen would never let that happen.

So at five o'clock in the evening, about an hour before she figured Becca might return home from work, Freen drove to Becca's apartment just in case she was stubborn enough to decide to spend the night there instead of staying elsewhere. Though they'd known each other only about a month, Freen sensed that in times of heartache, Becca relied on the comfort of the familiar. She had a bad feeling that Becca would insist on remaining in her apartment even though she was aware that her stalker knew where she lived.

The least Freen could do was help with security.

She scanned the cars parked along the street in front of Becca's apartment, trying to decide if any of them belonged to the detectives on her protective detail. She was pretty sure nobody was watching the apartment when she wasn't there, instead just keeping twenty-four-hour surveillance on Becca herself. Not what Freen would have chosen, though of course she had no idea what kind of budget and resource constraints Dasha faced when creating the assignment.

Honestly, had Dasha been able to throw more manpower at the task, Freen had no doubt she would have. Dasha clearly still cared for Becca deeply and genuinely wanted to keep her safe.

Now that Freen was out of the picture, Dasha would probably think of all kinds of new ways to protect Becca. The fine hairs covering Freen's body stood on end at the very idea.

Keying the four-digit code Becca had taught her into the security panel-and breathing a sigh of relief when it still worked-Freen unlocked the door and slipped inside. She climbed the first flight of stairs, then stopped halfway up. Hackles rising, she caught a familiar, gut-churning scent lingering in the air.

Becca's stalker. He had been here, in this very stairwell, and not long ago.

Freen continued slowly, inhaling with focused intensity. Her human nose just couldn't tell her very much. She needed to shift into a dog. But that meant using her ability in an enclosed, populated space. Though she didn't sense anyone in the immediate vicinity, even entertaining the thought of pulling off a shift in Becca's apartment building ran counter to all her survival instincts. Yet what was the point of having this gift-she didn't often think of it as a gift, but if it might help her protect Becca, then that seemed like an appropriate word-if she never took advantage of it?