Free Break This! (A 300 Moons Book) by Tasha Black

being a foster kid. Not that Mom hadn’t filled his heart with love and acceptance, and his body and soul with nourishment at Harkness Farms. She had, and then some.
    But Chance still had hazy memories of his birth parents, and of the pain of being left behind.
    In spite of that, or more likely because of it, he wanted desperately to create a family, to have a plan, and a partner, to provide a safe little universe for children of his own.
    The desire was so strong, that he had been willing to overlook the most obvious clues about Jade.
    She couldn’t give him what he needed and he couldn’t give her what she wanted.
    Surprisingly, what he felt most of all was relief.
    He wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.
    And he sure as hell didn’t have to stay in Glacier City for another minute. Any debt he’d felt he owed to Jade was a joke. She had made her own choices, and he wasn’t going to risk jail time to help her avoid the consequences.
    If he hurried, he could be gone before Thea even came back. That would make it easier on both of them.
    He ignored the pang in his chest at the memory of Thea’s lovely face crumbling when she’d left, and started grabbing his stuff from the dresser where he’d put it. He’d only brought the one carry-on, and hadn’t unpacked much, so it didn’t take long.
    Chance was all packed up and heading for the door when he felt a stab of pain from the tattoo on his chest.

15
    C hance stopped , his breath pluming in the suddenly frigid air.
    Across the room, something stirred in the shadows.
    Chance turned to the source of the movement, but there was nothing there.
    Then he saw it again. This time, reflected in the dark TV screen.
    He spun around, but again, he found nothing.
    Was he losing it? Had he just been under too much stress lately?
    Turning back to the television, he saw the darkness swirl and gather once more.
    His chest burned and ached like it was being ripped apart from the inside.
    He thought of the alley back in Philly. It was happening again.
    The pain was blinding.
    Chance fought to get himself inside his head, into the zone where he went when he was competing, that corner of his mind that would be free from the pain, focused on the battle.
    The world receded as he sank into a fighting stance.
    Chance waited, watching the reflection of the thing moving toward him in the television.
    Some part of him knew this was terrifying. Instinct lifted the hair on the back of his neck.
    But Chance was deep in his own mind, waiting patiently, unconcerned that the thing approaching was clearly not human, that it was oozing and flowing toward him, reaching without hands.
    When it was finally close enough, Chance dropped his suitcase and turned with a right cross that would knock out a horse.
    His hand passed right through the shadow, wrenching his shoulder at the overextension.
    The sensation of occupying the same space as the thing was like plunging his entire body into an ice bath.
    Chance’s heart stuttered, the breath caught in his lungs.
    But his head was still in the game.
    Instinctively, he swung again.
    And again his arm went right through the darkness, chilling him to the bone.
    The shadow began to shape into a vaguely human form. Sinuously, it slid into something like a woman made of smoke.
    How was he supposed to fight something he couldn’t hit?
    She cocked her head, almost quizzically, as if observing him.
    Then she struck.
    Chance dodged, but the creature’s arm lengthened like a whip, lashing him across his midsection.
    The cold was so intense it felt like burning. He was being ripped in half, between the fire of the tattoo and the ice of the demon.
    His legs wobbled.
    The bear rose up protectively inside him, as it had during the fight with Van.
    This time, Chance welcomed it. He was in trouble, real trouble, inhuman trouble. Maybe the inhuman side of him would know how to get him out of it.
    A surge of strength filled him, his muscles rippling this time as though the bear