Page 15 of Defeated

When I open the front door, she’s standing as far back as she can at the top of the townhouse’s steps, shifting from foot to foot with her hands stuffed in her pockets. There’s a skittishness in large, deep brown eyes framed by dark blonde lashes, and I get the sense she’s looking for the first opportunity to run. I don’t intend to let her.

She’s here, she’s in trouble, and I’m determined to help her.

I give her my most friendly smile, trying not to notice that she has her T-shirt on back to front, the white label poking out of the top. “Hi.”

She doesn’t return my smile as her eyes dart past me and into the apartment. “Hi.”

“Do you want to come in?” I step aside to let her in.

Zoe doesn’t move.

“I wanted to find out if I can help,” she mumbles, not meeting my eye.

I cock my head, scrutinizing her. Minutes before, she was getting ready to attack me. Now she won’t look me in the eye.

Did something happen to make her this wary?

“Help?” I echo.

She nods once, the blunt ends of her white-blonde hair brushing her neck. “Colton helped me out before, and I thought maybe I could help him out.”

Her eyes bounce from mine to my chin, then inside the apartment. She’s antsy. Again I take in the label sticking out the front of her T-shirt from having dressed in a hurry, and the way she’s shooting darting glances down the street.

I frown. “Did something happen?” I take a step onto the porch, twisting a little so I can see down the street. There’s no one around on this late afternoon. Just us.

When she nearly takes a tumble down the short staircase, I retreat into the entryway as I subtly inhale. No blood. The faintest scent of fear-laced sweat.

She’s not out of breath so no one chased her. So why do I think someone did?

“You said you were packing up Colton’s apartment,” she says, not answering my question.

I take a moment to think through my options. She’s afraid of something, maybe even of me, and somehow I need to reassure her I’m no threat to her.

How to handle this?

I dig out my smile. “I’m starting on the books before I move onto the bigger stuff.”

“Well, I’d like to help,” she blurts out, then clears her throat. “If you need help, that is.”

“It’s not going to be a fun job,” I warn her.

“I’m not afraid of hard work.” She tilts her chin up. “And like I said, Colton helped me out, and I want to return the favor.”

That might be part of it, but that’s not all of it. Something happened to bring her back here so soon. It’s getting cold out, which is less of a problem for us shifters with our ability to withstand cooler temperatures than a regular human. But Zoe is in a T-shirt, a pair of skinny jeans, and sneakers. Where is her coat? Her bag?

I have two female packmates, Penny and Tina, and both never go anywhere without bags, lip-gloss, scarves, hair ties and other things I find forgotten on my coffee table or having fallen down the sides of my couch after they’ve left.

They are never without things.

Where are Zoe’s things?

“Colton said he was having trouble with some shifters in town,” I say, watching her closely. “It’s getting dark, so if there’s trouble, I could shift and?—”

“No!” I watch her visibly stuff her panic back inside her.

She does it fast. Too fast. The way someone used to dealing with a shock would. “Zoe, if there’s a problem, I can?—”

“There’s no problem. Colton nearly got himself killed helping me. I don’t know who you are, but I have no desire to watch the same thing happen to you.” Her gaze drifts from mine to settle on a point over my shoulder. “I can help pack up Colton’s stuff, and if you let me stay for today, I’ll leave tomorrow.”

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