I can run, but I don’t have anywhere safe to run to.

I can yell for help. But I’m still hesitant to draw too much attention to myself.

Or I can fight. I want to fight but I’m suddenly all too aware of how fragile my new body is. As a siren I had my teeth, claws, and spikes. All capable of causing considerable damage to those who intended to bring me harm. I also had my song, which on land was my main defense. Now, I don’t know what I have to defend myself with. I’m more vulnerable than I have ever felt before and for the first moment since meeting Vala, I wish I had my sirenform back. He wouldn’t be so cocky with his heart outside his chest.

I’m afraid and unsure but I’m going to fight. I’m not going to let this man take what is not his. While I used to use my song to manipulate men, I never took from them the way this man wants to take from me. My fear turns to fury when I think about how this is something that he has likely done before. How many other women has he preyed upon?

I turn to look at him. “There you go sweetheart. I knew you couldn’t resist me for long. Are you done with playing hard to get?”

“Go fuck yourself,” I spit. Was it my best line? Probably not, but I am beyond pissed off now. The streetlights cast just enough of a glow for me to see his face. It’s contorted in fury.

“Why would I fuck myself when I can fuck you, you little bitch?” He growls as he starts towards me. I raise my hands in front of me and widen my stance for balance. I’m prepared to punch, slap, gouge, do whatever I can to ensure that he goes down and does not take me with him.

He grips my wrist tightly. His nails dig into my soft flesh, causing me to gasp at the bite of pain. I don’t get the chance to fight back because a shadow is launching himself at him from the side. Head down, he barrels into the predator pushing him to the floor. I gasp when the shadowed figure looks at me and the glint of sapphire eyes awakens butterflies in my stomach.

“Eagan,” I whisper. He looks at me only briefly before raising his fist and smashing it into Logan’s face. There’s a sickening crunch followed by a howl of pain and a low groan as Eagan unleashes. The smell of copper, a scent I am all too familiar with, fills the air.

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on her again,” he snarls.

Eagan hits him once, twice, before rolling off of Logan and leaving him whimpering on the ground. Eagan’s body is heavingas he sucks in air, his eyes a little wild and the droplets of blood stand out on his pale T-shirt. I notice the adrenaline leaving my body as I start to shake. It takes me a moment for my brain to recognize that I’m safe and relax my stance. I’m not sure what would have happened if Eagan hadn’t been here.

“Are you okay Kairi?” he asks.

“What are you doing here?” I reply.

He runs a hand through his tousled hair. I can’t help but be reminded about just how attractive I find this man. And I have to admit, the bloodied knuckles are a turn on. “I was at the diner and saw him bothering you. I had hoped that he would leave you alone after you turned him down, but I suspected that he wouldn’t let it go. I stuck around to make sure that he didn’t follow. And when he did, and I saw what he was about to do…” he trails off.

“You decided to activate full protector mode,” I finished for him. He shrugs his shoulders and looks sheepish.

“Well, um, yeah. I guess. I couldn’t let him hurt you. I wouldn’t let him hurt anyone. Guys like him are sick. Honestly, he deserves much more than what I gave him.”

“Is he okay?” I question, although I’m not convinced that I give a shit.

He nods. “Yeah, probably just a broken nose. He will have a pretty banged up face to go with his killer hangover tomorrow. He’s lucky it’s not a lot worse.”

Silence fills the space between us. It’s not awkward per se, but it is clear neither of us know where to go from here. I distract myself from the fear and thoughts of what Logan was going to do to me by running my eyes over Eagan’s body instead. The times that I have seen him, he was in the throes of madness from my song, his appearance was unkempt and disheveled, and the tinge of crazy was visible in his eyes. Nothing could have prepared me for how he looks under different circumstances.

He’s trimmed his facial hair down to a short stubble that I long to run my hand over. His hair, while still a little long, is styled. Well, I assume that it was, but the scuffle has slightly mussed it up again. I am also able to fully appreciate his physique. The muscles of his biceps that poke out from the sleeves of his t-shirt, the veins in his forearms. It takes conscious effort not to drool when I picture what is under all the clothes.

He clears his throat, and I am pulled out of my fantasy. Oops. I think he caught me staring. I raise my eyes to him and give him a flirty smile.

“Where are you staying?” he asks me. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you walking around alone right now even though this guy isn’t going to be a problem.” He looks over to the lump on the ground who expels a moan, reminding me that we shouldn’t stick around in case someone finds us. “Are you staying in the motel?”

“Oh. Well, no. I’m sleeping on the beach.” He looks at me incredulously.

“You’re what?”

“I’m sleeping in a small alcove on the beach. It provides shelter, it's warm enough and reasonably comfortable.”

“What about the money I gave you?” He inquires with suspicion.

“I want to make it last as long as possible because I’m not sure where I’m going to get money from after. The motel will eat into it too much. Food and other essentials are more important, and the beach is fine enough.” I respond, indignantly, to the suggestion that I wasn’t being wise with my money.

He shakes his head. “Fuck, it’s a wonder nothing has happened to you before now,” he mutters under his breath. “Sleeping on the beach. Fucking hell.”

“Hey, it’s none of your business. You wanted to be done with me, remember? I’m figuring things out okay.” He stares at meintently and I wither a little under his gaze. It’s starting to dawn on me that being out in the open while I sleep may not have been the smartest idea.

“I’m probably going to regret this, but I’ll feel guilty as hell if I don’t. I’m going to take you to get your things and then you’re coming home with me.”