Page 7 of Bad Blood Bear

She just gave a little grin. “Attack vagina,” she whispered. “Grr.”

Tank flinched.

“Okay,” she said, giggling. It was a surprisingly sweet sound. “Squats 101. It’s isolated, so people don’t see you coming and going and start complaining and get the cops to run you off. No electricity, but it has a kitchen area where they used to make the coffee and hot dogs and stuff.”

She walked over to one side of the convenience store and knocked on the metal counter. “Stainless steel,” she said. “So when I get my hands on a camp stove, I could put it right here, and cook and heat water without setting the place on fire.”

She led the way down the narrow hallway she’d burst out of, and gestured toward an open door. “There’s an office with a door that locks from the inside, so I can feel safe at night. It even has an old couch so I don’t have to sleep on the floor with the mice. And there’s no rats.”

Her matter-of-fact tone gave Tank chills. She really did feel genuinely lucky to have this place. Which made him wonder where the hell else she’d had to live in her life, and how bad it had been for her.

She led him to the next door. “But this is the piece de resistance,” she said. “A real bathroom with running water, and look!” She stepped inside and pushed down the handle on the cracked, discolored toilet to flush it. “Trust me, Hulk Man, any place with a toilet that flushes is the Taj Mahal of squats. There was even half a case of leftover toilet paper in the storeroom.”

Toilet paper. She was grateful for toilet paper. It was all Tank could do not to sweep her up and carry her back to his own den right now, bring her food and tuck her into bed.

“How come you live here?” he asked. “Don’t you have family? Or a crew?”

She dropped her eyes. “Not anymore,” she said.

Then she perked up. “But I have a case of snacks that was left in the storeroom, with the toilet paper. Want some Cheetos? Or a sixpack of Oreos?”

He shook his head. Oreos. That’s what she had to eat. No wonder she’d looked so desperate in the diner. His bear was pushing at him, beginning to get angry. Tank gritted his teeth. He couldn’t let his bear get agitated.

“It’s November,” he said. “Won’t it get cold here, in the winter?”

She shrugged. “I’ll get a kerosene heater. Or maybe I’ll move on. Go somewhere warm, like Florida.”

Tank felt a stab of fear in his stomach when she talked about going so far away. Anything could happen to her, and he wouldn’t be there to help. His bear didn’t like that idea.

She’s human, he told is bear. And we’re not responsible for her.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. He was right. He should never have come here—he was no good to someone like her. She needed so much, and he had nothing to give. Not anymore.

“Well, I guess you’re okay, then?” he said. “I was afraid you were sick or something. It looked like you almost fainted in the diner.”

“I’m okay.”

He nodded. He didn’t think she was, but there was nothing he could do.

“Okay.” He hesitated. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said. “My name’s Tank.”

She nodded. “Lissa.” She held out her hand, and he shook it gently. Suddenly, she stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for lunch,” she said. “I’m sorry I bit you and cut you and I didn’t have sex with you. You’re sweet. And I like your abs. Maybe some other time.”

His bear almost busted out of his skin. To quiet it, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her, growling as her sweet lips parted for his. She made a little sexy growl of her own and slid her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him.

Tank lifted her up, one arm under her hips, and she wrapped her legs around him, deepening the kiss. Their tongues tangled together and his cock throbbed with desire, even as his protective instincts rose up.

He gave her bottom lip a little nip, twin to the one she’d given him in the diner. There was a trace of blood on her lip, which made his bear even more excited. She moaned softly, and he continued his bitey kisses down the side of her neck.

The second his teeth grazed the spot where her neck sloped down to her shoulder, she screamed. “No!” Suddenly, she turned into a wild spitfire, scratching and clawing at him.

Startled, Tank dropped her on her feet. Lissa backed into the bathroom, growling. “Get away from me,” she ground out. “Get away! I’ll kill you too!”

What the hell? The door slammed in his face. His bear went frantic. “Lissa?” he called, pounding on the door. “Lissa, let me in!”

“Get away!” she screamed again. “I don’t need you! I’ll kill you!”

Tank could feel his skin rippling. God, no. He couldn’t Change. He’d end up killing her, not the other way around.

With all the strength of will he possessed, he turned away from the door and bolted for the boarded-up entrance.