Impulse

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“Try to relax, sweetheart.”

Sera curled her fingers around the edge of the stool and studied the spell caster in front of her. She’d never met Jackson Holt before, but she’d heard enough stories. He was trustworthy and solid, and he carried the scent of a shapeshifter on his skin. A cat, maybe a lion or cougar, though both breeds were so rare she couldn’t be sure.

Whichever it was, Jackson was clearly a man who understood shapeshifters. He smiled easily and waited like he had no place else to be, and it made it possible for her to take deep breaths and bring instinct under control. “I’m okay. Just had a long night.”

“You bet.” His lazy tone betrayed nothing, but his mouth firmed into a tense line.

No mysteries there. The throbbing in her face had settled into a dull ache, but one of her eyes had begun to swell. Jackson could play casual all he wanted, but he couldn’t look at her without seeing a victim.

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