Free Cunningham, Pat - Legacy [Sequel to Belonging] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Pat Cunningham Page B

do you want to ‘protect’ you? Scarecrow’s not big on human partners, but I’ll try anything once. Or twice. Or—”
    “Wallace!”
    “Okay, okay. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Jesus, Scarecrow. You take the fun out of everything.”
    Wallace withdrew to the kitchen to mutter and grouse while Jeremy helped Colleen out of the chair and shepherded her upstairs. He pointed out the bedroom and bath and the linen closet where she could get a fresh towel and washcloth. A closed door stood at his back, presumably to another bedroom. Maybe he and his vamp-obsessed hubby played Buffy and Spike in there. Colleen couldn’t summon the nerve to ask.
    By the time Colleen had finished a quick wash up, changed into the shirt Jeremy provided for a nightie, and crawled into the king-sized bed, she had to admit she felt better. All right, maybe “better” was a bit strong. Not as shell-shocked, then. The adrenaline rush must have worn off. She pulled the blankets around her to stave off the return of the chills. Just hold on, she told herself. Hold on until morning. Then she’d be able to think again.
    Except for when she looked into Jeremy’s eyes or listened to the growl of Wallace’s voice. Then rational thought took a back seat to other, more carnal reactions.
    It’s perfectly natural, she tried to convince herself. She’d now been attacked twice, and both times these two men had come to her rescue. She’d observed Jeremy with Shayla, and Wallace had killed both assailants on her behalf. The father and the protector, two basic traits the primitive female at the core of all women looked for in a mate. Throw in a hormonal explosion triggered by a brush with danger and small wonder her body had reverted to survival mode and gone all horny on her. They could be in their eighties, and she’d still lust after them. Simple human biology.
    Just her luck they were both sexy as all get-out. Between the two of them, she was rapidly turning into one big mass of jump-me-now.
    Quit it. Quit torturing yourself. They’re in love with each other. Think about something else.
    Unfortunately, the leftover something elses skirted true horror territory. The oily voice that oozed over her mind and tried to smother her will. A human body turned to ash. The sound of snarls and the sight of fangs better suited to animals. Colleen huddled farther under the covers. When the wave of shudders hit, she didn’t try to fight it.
    They couldn’t be vampires. Vampires didn’t exist.
    Indistinct images from her childhood poked their heads out of her mind’s deepest closet. She slammed the door in their faces. She’d been a kid. That hadn’t happened. If she looked into the closet too long, she might go crazy.
    Just like Mom.
    Bad. Bad thoughts. Never, never go there. She focused on the breathing exercises the therapist had taught her until her heart rate dropped closer to normal and the closet door was firmly sealed. She made her muscles relax and settled down to what she figured would be several hours of tossing and turning.
    She figured wrong. Reaction did indeed set in and sent her the mixed blessing of a troubled sleep in only twenty minutes.

    * * * *

    Wallace stood at the foot of the stairs until he heard the girl’s heartbeat quiet into a steady, slow rhythm. “She’s asleep,” he said to Jeremy. “Okay, spill. What the hell’s going on?”
    “You got me. I thought it was over after you staked the first one. It should have been over. Flocks don’t go after a victim en masse. This is way off the trail.”
    “No shit.” He could easily imagine the girl, as she must look now, lying in his and Jeremy’s bed. That long, dark cloud of hair, those rosy lips slightly parted, her smoky lids closed over the sparkle that lit her violet eyes. She smelled like sex and an ancient power that pulsed through her veins like blood. He pictured her naked and writhing between them, his mouth and Scarecrow’s hands on her body, how salty-sweet