The drive from the snow of the Sierra to the cold but dry bustle of San Francisco was spookily smooth. No traffic jams, no wolf sentries racing to stop her, no red lights. Perfection. She should've known it was too easy. After finding a vertical street park - her car being slotted up into the third level - she began the trek to the beauty parlor. Trouble struck less than a minute later.
A tall male with amber-gold hair materialized out of nowhere to lean on the wall in front of her. "I thought you were supposed to remain at the den."
"I don't believe this!" Folding her arms, she stared at the DarkRiver sentinel. "They snitched me out to the cats?" Who might be their allies, but were not yet friends. However, she trusted Vaughn. He'd come for her - she might've been unconscious at the time, but her wolf remembered. Vaughn was safe.
Of course, at this moment he didn't look particularly happy to see her. "The situation's volatile. Some of our people aren't feeling friendly."
"Oh." She'd failed to take that into account, an inexcusable mistake with what was going on. All she had wanted was to get out and fix this one thing she could fix, even if her mind was splintering into a thousand pieces. "I should go back, huh?" She couldn't hide her disappointment.
"What the hell - I'm around to provide personal bodyguard service." He gave her a look that could've come from either one of her brothers. "Where to?"
Wanting to hug him, she grinned. "Miss Leozandra's."
Brenna left close to sunset, after having been fed both a late lunch and an afternoon snack by Miss Leozandra's personal chef. She couldn't remember what she'd eaten, she was so excited with her shoulder-length look. The gen-synth extensions were flawless - even she couldn't tell where her hair ended and they began. And she had bangs!
Nothing could put a damper on her happiness, not even the knowledge that she'd been spotted returning by several sentries. Riley would know in minutes. She didn't care. Her joy increased with each exclamation that met her on the way to her quarters - the reaction was unanimously positive.
She didn't know who was more surprised when she turned the corner and found Judd leaning outside the door to her rooms. His face, of course, didn't betray anything, but she saw a flicker in his eyes, somehow knew she'd caught him unawares. As had he.
"You look fine." Disbelieving, she gave him the once-over. It was plain he'd showered and put on a fresh pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. But the skin she could see was clear of bruises.
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"Because you were out in the forest with my brother." She unlocked the door and let him prowl in behind her, very aware that for all his determination to restrain his emotions, he'd come searching for her. He kicked the door shut as she fought to contain her joy.
"Hmm." Walking forward, he fingered a strand of her hair. "So soft."
She didn't say anything as he stroked the strands through his fingers over and over, as if attempting to figure out where the high-tech fibers joined her natural hair...or maybe he was simply indulging himself.
"Perfect." He let the strands slide away.
"Do you like it?" she found herself asking despite her better judgment.
"I already told you."
Perfect.
What she'd taken as a comment on the quality of the extensions had been about her. "Oh." Feeling a little shy, she nonetheless reached out and hugged him. He went stiff and she suddenly knew it wasn't a reaction to her touch. Pulling back, she began to push up his T-shirt. "Let me guess, broken ribs?"
"Brenna." He tried to stop her, but she swatted away his hand.
"Oh. My. God." The entire left side of his chest was black and blue. "Why aren't you taped up?"
"I don't need it."
She shoved down the T-shirt. "Fine. Be all macho about it." Then something else occurred to her. Her blood chilled. "Judd, what does Drew look like?"
"Worse."
"Is he dead?" she forced herself to ask.
"No."
Relief made her a little light-headed. "I thought you guys played with lasers."
"We made some new rules." It was obvious he wasn't going to tell her any more.
She threw up her hands. "You're not dead. Drew isn't dead. That's good enough for me." She turned to grab a couple of ice packs from the built-in cooler. "Sit."
"I said - "
"Sit."
He sprawled into a chair. When she wrapped the ice packs in a small towel and placed them against his ribs, he didn't protest. "What is it with men and testosterone?" she muttered, standing in the vee formed by his outstretched legs.
"I don't think you'd like us without it." He held the ice packs to his side by pinning them with his arm. "There was no need for this."
She was about to snap a comeback when she realized he'd come to her precisely because she'd fuss over him, no matter what he must've told himself to the contrary. Her throat tightened. "Humor me," she said, stroking his hair off his forehead. "You need a haircut." He'd always worn it very short, a sharp military cut.
"I'll razor it off tonight."
"Don't. I kind of like it this longer length." It brushed his nape, not too long but long enough to run her fingers through.
He looked up to meet her gaze. The moment stretched as she stroked the long front strands to the side. "I could just trim these bits that are getting in your eyes."
"All right."
The simple acceptance made her stomach drop, her protective walls collapse. "Are you up for a walk?" She didn't want to fight with Riley and it was certain that he was going to turn up soon to dress her down for her escape. She couldn't believe Judd hadn't said something already. But then again, he hadn't exactly behaved himself today, either.