“Is that why she veered off the path? Did she catch his scent?”
“Maybe.”
Phineas watched as the stallion reared up, then galloped off into the woods. “There he goes.”
Brynley nodded, still smiling. “He roams a wide area. I’ve spotted him in Montana a hundred miles from here. He goes wherever he wants.”
“Completely free,” Phineas murmured.
“Yes.” Brynley’s smile faded as she untethered the horses. “I’ve always had this feeling that if the wild white stallion remained free, then all was right in the world.” She shrugged and looked embarrassed. “That probably sounds silly to you.”
“No, not at all.” He moved closer to her. “You figure that as long as he’s free, you have a chance to be free, too.”
Her eyes widened. “You do understand.” She glanced away, her cheeks blushing. “Not bad for a city boy.”
He brushed back a wavy tendril of hair that had come loose from her ponytail and tucked it behind her ear. “I could understand a lot more if we talked to each other instead of sparring.”
“I suppose.” She shifted her weight. “Maybe we could be . . . friends. There wouldn’t be any harm in that, right?”
It would be sheer torture. “I’d like that.”
“Well, good. We can talk while we ride.” She mounted the gelding.
“Okay.” He mounted Molly, wincing inwardly at the pain. Thank you for giving me a ride, he attempted to communicate mentally.
Molly snorted and shook her head, and he felt an air of resignation about her as if she’d accepted long ago that she must do as she was told. He wondered briefly if she wanted to be free like the white stallion. Or when the snow piled up in winter, was she grateful to have a warm stable?
Freedom versus security. It was the choice Brynley had been forced to make when she’d left home.
They rode side by side, but neither of them spoke. Now that they’d called a truce, he didn’t know what to say. It had been easier to communicate with her when he had picked on her and pretended not to like her.
The awkward silence stretched out, broken only by the thudding of horse hooves and the occasional birdcall.
Say something, he slapped himself mentally. “I like your eyes.” He slapped himself again. That was not something a mere friend would say.
She tilted her head toward him. “My eyes?”
“Yeah. They’re . . . blue.” Sheesh, now he sounded like a preschooler who had just learned his colors.
“I like your eyes, too,” she said softly.
“Mine? They’re the color of mud.”
“Dark chocolate,” she corrected him, then smiled. “I love dark chocolate.”
“Yours are like the sky on a bright sunny day. I . . . I can’t see the sky anymore. Unless I look at you.” He cast a nervous glance at her.
She was staring at him like he’d grown a second head.
“I shouldn’t have said—”
“No,” she interrupted him softly. “It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever told me.”
He shrugged. “I know you don’t like compliments.”
“But I do. I’m just not used to receiving them.” She smiled sadly. “But I think I could adjust.”
“Good. ’Cause I have a lot more where that last one came from.”
“You’re a sweet man, Phineas.”
Sweet? Was that why she wanted him for a friend? Next, she’d be asking him to go to the mall with her to get a manicure. “I’m not always sweet,” he grumbled.
She gave him a curious look. “Is it true what that woman said on the phone? You were a drug dealer, and there’s a warrant for your arrest?”
He winced. He should have stuck with the sweet perception. The more Brynley found out about him, the more she would want to avoid him. The truth would only convince her that she was right.
They were horribly, dreadfully mismatched.
Chapter Ten
Boy, did he clam up fast. Brynley slanted a glance at Phineas. She must have pushed a button. Well, she could hardly blame him. She had things in her past she refused to talk about, too.
A sudden notion pricked at her. Maybe they had something in common after all. Maybe they were both . . . survivors. Their wounded souls recognized each other and were being pulled together by a magnetic force they couldn’t stop or control.
She shook her head. What romantic nonsense. She’d been slapped around by reality too much to believe that souls could be destined for each other. Phineas was like any man, and they were all governed by the Three-Step rule. He couldn’t help but think about sex, and since she happened to be the only female in the vicinity, she automatically became the subject of his sexual thoughts.
She waved aside a mosquito that buzzed past her ear. “Damned bloodsucker.”
“Talking to me?” Phineas gave her a wry look.
“Should I? I thought you’d stopped talking to me.”
He sighed. “There are things in my past I’m not proud of. I’d rather be judged for the real me and not for my mistakes.”
“You think I’ll judge you?”
He scoffed. “Haven’t you already? I’m a disgusting parasite. A user. Your words.”
“What about your words? You call me Snout-Face.”
“You do have a snout when the moon is full. Would you rather I talk about your hairy legs?”
She stiffened, and her inner wolf bristled. “There’s nothing wrong with my fur. If you weren’t so ignorant about wolves, you’d know that I have a very nice pelt.”
“You’re extremely argumentative—”
“I am not!”
“And touchy. I’ve never met anyone so prickly.”
“You bastard!”
His mouth twitched as he gave her a pointed look.
Her face grew warm as a sheepish smile tugged at her mouth. “All right. I might be a little touchy. But I have good reason.”
“Then tell me about it.”
She swallowed hard. No way was she talking about her past. She needed to change the subject fast. “Hairy legs? If that’s how you flatter a woman, then you’ve got a lot to learn, Mr. Love Doctor.”
He flashed his perfect smile at her. “I was getting to it. My point is that even with your pretty snout and gorgeous legs and cheerful personality, I would never hold it against you. I like you exactly the way you are.”
She tightened her grip on her horse’s reins as her heart started to race. He likes me. For myself.
Last night, he’d admitted he was attracted to her. She’d figured that was simply lust. A common result of the Three-Step rule. But now, with this latest confession, she could no longer pretend the attraction was purely physical.
And she wasn’t sure she liked that. Lust was easy to handle. If it itched too much, you simply scratched it. But once the heart was dragged into a relationship, it always ended in heartache. Abandonment, betrayal, abuse. She’d endured them all and couldn’t bear to go through it again.
She gave him a wary look. “I suppose a Love Doctor like you has enjoyed a lot of conquests.”
He snorted. “What conquests? You heard how LaToya talks to me. She judges me on my past mistakes.”
“And you think I will?”
“Don’t you hold it against me that I’m a vampire? A disgusting parasite?”
She grimaced. “It’s not personal. I just don’t like users.”
“Have I ever used you?”
She rode in silence for a moment. She could accuse him of using his vampire allure on her, but she was beginning to question that idea. She’d lived at Dragon Nest Academy for a few months now, and she’d never felt any kind of allure from the other male Vamps she came in contact with. They were handsome guys, but they never affected her like Phineas.
She needed to face the truth. It was only Phineas who attracted her. She liked him exactly the way he was.
Did she dare tell him?
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “Do you think I’ve used you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think you’re a . . . a good guy.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Well, I guess we found something we can agree on.”
She smiled, her cheeks growing warm. “I guess so.”
His gaze met hers and their eyes locked for a few seconds. Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she looked away.
Oh God, who was she kidding? Her heart was already involved.
A silence stretched out between them, but she could sense an undercurrent that sizzled with electric energy. This was dangerous. Feelings this intense had a way of filtering through to her inner wolf. It was becoming aware of the desires of her heart, sharply attuned to the lustful needs of her body. And once the animal inside her latched on to the scent of her chosen prey, it didn’t give up.
Phineas wouldn’t stand a chance.
Phineas stiffened as they approached the next campsite. This one was definitely inhabited. The stench of unwashed human was strong enough to knock over a moose.
Brynley wrinkled her nose as she stopped the horses. “I think whoever is camping here had a run-in with a skunk.”
He winced inwardly as he dismounted. “I’ll check it out. Stay here with the horses.”
“No way.” She dismounted quickly and tethered the horses to a nearby aspen tree. “I’m supposed to be helping you.”
“You are helping me, but I don’t want you in any danger.”
“I’m not a wuss, Phineas. I can handle myself.”
“Are you two gonna fuss at each other all night?” a gruff voice rumbled from behind a large lodgepole pine.
Phineas whipped out his automatic as he spun toward the voice.
“You call that little stick a weapon?” A huge man stepped from behind the tree, chuckling. He carried a double-barreled shotgun with the breech open. A fly buzzed around his head, and he waved it aside.
His smell wafted toward Phineas, making his eyes water. Still, he focused on the shotgun to make sure the safety catch was visible. “We don’t want any trouble, dude.”
“But we can defend ourselves if we need to.” Brynley drew her shotgun out of its leather case attached to her saddle.
The huge man tilted his head back and laughed. “Will you look at that? The little lady’s got the big weapon. I reckon we can tell who’s the boss here.”
Phineas gritted his teeth. Before he could reply, Brynley butted in.
“Who are you, and what’s your business here?” she demanded.
With a chuckle, the huge man removed his battered, sweat-stained hat and held it to his chest. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m Digger. Spent so many years digging for gold and silver that the name stuck. And you are?”
“I’m Bryn—” She stopped herself from saying her full name. “And this is Phineas.”
Phineas nodded at him. “What’s up?”
Digger looked up, then shrugged. “Not much. It’s been pretty quiet till you two showed up.” He regarded them as he scratched his scraggly long beard. “Are you two running from the law?”