Free Undercover Memories by Alice Sharpe

her.
    They were both bundled up, but he knew the car would get cold and figured that cold would act as an alarm clock. Not that he really cared. He had to sleep.
    The dream started pleasantly enough. He strolled by a stream in the sunlight. Someone was with him but he wasn’t sure who it was. And then black shadows stole across the sky, turning day into night. He was sitting in a dark room next. All around him he could hear the rustle of wings. Birds. Dozens of them, just vague shadows and deep noises—owls! The bird sounds were suddenly joined by screams and not just any screams, children’s screams of terror. They were terrified of the owls, too. He tried to sink into the earth to get away from the wings and the cries. His hands were covered with blood and his body was on fire....
    “John!”
    He opened his eyes. Paige leaned over him, eyes wide with alarm.
    He swallowed heavily and tried to sit up but he’d slipped down in the seat in his twilight attempt to escape the owls, pinning his hip under the steering wheel. He maneuvered himself upright and took another gulp of cold air.
    “Are you all right?” she asked, her hand landing on his arm.
    “Yeah,” he said. The truth was more complicated as the dream continued to unwind in the back of his head.
    “You were screaming,” she said. He suddenly realized it was daylight. Condensation on the inside of the windows made the outside world a blur.
    “I was? Sorry.”
    “Were you having a nightmare?”
    “Yes,” he said, and rubbed his eyes. The beating of wings grated against every nerve ending. He met her gaze and looked away. If it was possible to feel like a raw sore, he did.
    “You look funny, John. Do you want to talk about it?”
    “No,” he said. He didn’t know what to make of the crying children.
    He opened the driver’s door and stumbled from the seat into a foot of snow. Judging from the light filtering through the treetops, it was early morning.
    Paige came up behind him and circled him with her arms. At first, the gesture made him uneasy. Why was she hugging him? Why was she with him? He turned around to face her.
    “You look so lost,” she said.
    “And you’re a sucker for wounded guys, right?” The owl pendant was beneath her sweater. He couldn’t see it, but he could sense it there. The metal wings beating against her skin, the yellow eyes burning through the wool.
    “Maybe,” she said. “Is that so wrong?”
    “It can be,” he said, raising his gaze to her eyes.
    “Why?”
    “If it impairs your judgment,” he said. “If it puts you in danger.”
    “Not this again,” she said, her voice frustrated. “I know what I’m doing.”
    “Do you, Paige?”
    “You’re not dangerous,” she said.
    “I’m not? Are you sure?” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close to him. Staring into her eyes, fueled by the residue of the nightmare amped up by unbearable uncertainty, he touched her lips with his, then drew back, startled by the almost audible clap of thunder that resonated in his head.
    Thunder that drove away the beating wings and the cries…
    He claimed her lips again. As chaste as the kiss in the tavern parking lot had been, this one was wanton, bordering on licentious. His hands slid up her neck, his fingers splayed through her hair as he pried her lips open with the tip of his tongue. His mind was blessedly free of sounds other than the rushing of his own blood, the pumping of his own heart.
    It was Paige. She was the reason he was free.... And as inappropriate and impossible the situation, all he wanted was to pull her to the snowy ground and lose himself in her.
    His hand slid down her back, cupped her butt, tucked her tight against his groin—
    For a second, his head cleared and he stood back from himself. Then he pushed her away, appalled by his behavior. Her swollen lips and dazed eyes bore testimony to the way he’d transferred his angst to her. That was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.
    “Paige,