My muddy sneakers squelched through puddled earth and buried fallen leaves into sludge. Misty rain coated my face and wisps of white breath streamed over my shoulder as I ran along an overgrown path that zig-zagged through the forest, minutely changing my gait to avoid jutting roots and slippery stones.

I was supposed to be focusing on my mission for Sirro and planning the hunt for the Kinslayer, but my thoughts were wholly consumed by Tabitha Catt. She was all I had been thinking about since I'd staggered dazedly out of the glassware cupboard last night, careful not to be spotted. Concealed in an alcove nearby, I'd kept watch to make sure none of her colleagues entered the small room, and ten minutes later Tabitha snuck out, her cheeks flushed and eyes a little glassy. I held my breath, wondering how she was going to react to our game. My anxious heart relaxed and a smile tugged at my mouth when she let out a radiant laugh and twirled her wooden spoon as she wandered down the hallway.

As I washed in the tiny shower, cleaning away all the fucking jizz that had stuck my briefs to my body like glue, I thought about her. I'd come not once but twice. All it had taken was for Tabitha to detonate hard, and her breathy scream vibrating against my palm forced another climax out of me. I'd come a third time in the shower, one soapy hand braced against the tiles while I jerked off recalling all the filthy whispering she'd done in her sultry voice, teasing me, kissing and nipping and sucking on my ear. And me, all that had come out of my mouth while she spun her wicked fantasy was stupid shit like fuck and hells and wait...wait. I'd moaned her name loud like a brainless idiot.

Dragging the mattress off the Princess bed, I added frilly pillows and soft teddy bears to its length to support my lower legs. Lying on its narrow width, an arm tucked beneath my head, I stared up at the mobile of glittering stars and fairies as moonlight crept across the ceiling still thinking about Tabitha. Along with the weird sensation inside my chest like moths fluttering against a glass jar, my stomach was knotted and there was a feverish exhilaration flowing through my veins making it impossible to sleep. I wondered what she liked best about working as a Between Maid. What did she dream about? What were her aspirations? Maybe she wanted more, maybe she wanted to be Head Housekeeper. What did she do in her spare time? I considered that her distinctive scent of wild roses was because she loved gardening. I'd noted the way she'd looked with regret at the white roses while she'd hacked at them to fill the Venetian vases the first night we'd met. I wanted Tabitha to tell me everything about herself, including all her favorite songs and books.

Actually, I had a fair fucking idea of what kinds of books she liked.

I'd mused upon Miss Catt until finally, the inky waves of sleep pulled me down into its comforting embrace.

My internal clock had me waking before dawn. Throwing on my running gear and strapping a dagger to my thigh, I headed into the Hemmlok Forest for an early morning run. For the first time, fear and guilt and vengeance hadn't poisoned the air in my lungs being within its savage depth.

Dawn filtered across a sky I couldn't see but knew was murky with low black clouds releasing light rain that fell in a misty haze. It was a welcome respite to my overheated body and its crisp edge cooled my burning chest. The vivid smells of the forest were evocative and invigorating—the fresh icy rain, the pungent mildew of the rotting forest floor, earthy aromas of wet tree trunks and damp soil and moss.

As I pounded down the crooked path and through the icy drizzle I kept my senses sweeping outward through the menacing trees while trying to come up with a game plan to hunt the Kinslayer. But was my mind focused on the Kinslayer? Hells no. It was on a girl with bright mischievous eyes and easy smiles.

I knew deep down that there was no future between us, we came from two different worlds with a clear divide, but my heart told my head to shut the fuck up.

Slowing down, I braced my hands on my hips as I fell into a fast walk, blowing out billows of clouded air trying to catch my breath. I mentally slapped myself and tried to shake Tabitha from my mind.

I'd discovered the path I was running down purely by accident when I stepped off the running trail to take a piss. It clearly hadn't been used for quite some time. Scraggly branches grew inward and overhead like a gaunt pergola. The compact earth was deeply rutted in places and something about that tickled the back of my mind.

It was then, my mind distracted by the gouges in the wet ground, that I saw a footprint pressed into the earth, beginning to melt away by rainfall. Several footprints were crossing its width and whoever it was had disappeared straight ahead, off the path, and right into the forest. I wiped away the sweat-tinged rain dripping down my brow with the back of my forearm, striding nearer. On closer inspection they were small-footed, a woman's, I was sure of it.

More than curious, I shouldered my way into the wild. Broad leaves and wet fern fronds dragged across my shoulders and calves. The rain was washing away their scent but I could have sworn I'd caught the faintest trace of fresh linen and roses as I tracked their journey through the gloomy thicket, following the odd footprint or broken branch. My senses shot wide and far, slicing through the slender gaps between the tightly compacted trees and the latticework of climbing vines, keeping my movement quiet, my footing carefully placed on the sodden leafy ground, silent.

Fifteen minutes later I stilled, ducking down low to peer through the low-hanging foliage when I came upon the young woman who'd made the footprints. Someone who shouldn't be this deep in the forest. My heart swelled then rapped an excited beat when I saw her.

There she was, Tabitha Catt, perched on a broken tree trunk, sheltered from the dreary rain beneath the russet-leaved boughs of an oak tree, her long hair braided and hanging over a shoulder. A paperback novel was splayed open on her lap, with something, perhaps a bookmark poking out between the pages. She nibbled on a muesli bar, then took a sip from a mug, placing it back on the tree trunk beside her thigh. Hitching up her shoulders she snuggled her chin deeper into the knitted scarf wrapped around her neck. She looked cozy with a tartan blanket covering her lap and a thermos sitting by her feet while she read.

Flicking over the page in the worn and battered book, the cute-as-fuck pompom bobbed up and down as she tugged her fluffy pink hat further down to cover one of her ears. When the rich smell of black coffee wafted through the air, my stomach twisted. Oh my gods I was hungry. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I wondered whether she'd let me take a bite out of her muesli bar, or maybe if she had a spare one she'd offer it to me.

I debated whether or not to approach her. I shouldn't. She'd already accused me of stalking her. Deciding to leave her in peace, I drew a foot back, when all of a sudden she sat up ramrod straight. Her eyes flared wide and her whole body tensed as if she'd become alerted to my presence. I frowned, wondering how I'd given myself away. And then cursed when a second later a loud crack cleaved apart the quiet. A godsdamned twig snapped in half beneath my sneaker as I shifted my weight readying to leave.

The book fell off her lap as she tossed the rug away. She leaped to her feet, lunging for her dagger, and whirled around in my direction. Fingers of misty shadows wavered from Zrenyth's deadly blade while her sharp gaze searched the depth of the dark forest, murky with faint lines of rain. "Who's there?"

"It's just me." I cringed at how pathetic my voice sounded with worry, lacing my tone, fearing she was going to explode in fury and start screaming at me to get the hells away.

Thankfully, Tabitha sagged when she recognized my voice, the dagger lowering to her side.

I bent low, avoiding the hanging branches dripping with water, and stepped from my concealment into a small clearing with bushy tussocks and ferns. Without tree cover and exposed to the elements, rain fell a little more heavily, pelting my body and making it hard to see because it was dewing on my eyelashes. My body was cooling but the goosebumps washing across my skin had more to do with standing near her.

Beneath the pompom hat, the tip of Tabitha's nose and cheeks were pinched pink from the chilly air. The color of her knitwear was a pretty contrast to the form-fitting navy raincoat, dark sweatpants, and black gumboots. "Mr. Crowther," she greeted me curtly, shifting to stand back beneath the oak, its twisted roots and fissured trunk blooming with lichen and fuzzy moss.

"Miss Cat," I replied.

I really didn't like the fact that she refused to voice my name, though I understood how power resided in simply withholding a name. And for Tabitha, it was the only thing she could use to keep the illusion of distance between us. A simple method and in her case useless. It was much like holding up a piece of flimsy cardboard to shield herself against the enemy when they were armed with blades. And this one was armed not with blades but with a charming smile and a determination to date her.

Tabitha scowled and popped a fist on her hip. She gestured toward me with the dagger. "Are you spying on me now?"

"No," I shot back, lifting up both hands in submission. "Shit no. Not intentionally." Moisture glanced along my palm when I rubbed the back of my wet neck, trying to figure out a way to explain myself. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. "I was going for a run and I saw your tracks."

Two golden eyebrows rose to the soft line of her hat. "So you decided to investigate?"

"I was curious," I replied, lifting a shoulder in apology.

Silence stretched out between us, filled only by the gentle tapping of rain on leaves and rustling of life from the forest, until she asked quietly, "You're not going to give up are you?"

I knew what she was asking—if I was going to stop pursuing her. "No," I told her truthfully as I approached, stepping over a broken branch, wanting to get under cover of the oak tree.

Tabitha jumped back, bringing up the dagger to ward me off. "There isn't going to be a repeat of last night."

I wiggled my eyebrows. "I fucking wish there would be."

Her blotchy cheeks deepened with a blush. "Isn't there someone else you can flirt with?" she appealed to me.

"Is that what I'm doing, flirting?"

"You know you are."

"I think you and I are well past flirting."

I was getting hard again just thinking about what Tabitha had done in the glassware cupboard. With her prim manners, she could barely utter a curse out loud and yet she'd been so fucking dirty conjuring up that fantasy. Tabitha had completely ruled the game I'd initiated like a queen. My queen. Beautiful and sharp, refreshingly sassy, and to my absolute delight, slightly deviant—Tabitha was perfect.

My cock twitched in agreement.

Her blue-tinged fingers tightened anxiously on her dagger as her gaze nervously flitted away, not quite having the courage to keep my intense gaze. But I caught her cheeks rounding with the shy smile she tried to hide, and the way the green irises darkened to a hunting green as if she were, like me, reminiscing on last night. Sweet and sexy all at the same time.

"Yeah," I drawled. "I'm thinking about that too."

Her gaze swung back and her body stiffened. A spark of fire flared in her eyes and those lush lips settled into a slightly irritated line. "And what do you assume I'm thinking about?"

"The glassware cupboard and our orgasm-war."

Tabitha's golden lashes fluttered as her eyes grew round. "Orgasm-war?"

How else would I describe it? It was a gloriously filthy war we both won and lost in the best possible way.

She threw her head back and howled with laughter. It peeled from her throat like musical chimes, startling birds from their roosts. "Orgasm-war," she snorted-laughed, her shoulders shaking. "And you cheated," she grinned, jabbing an accusing finger at me. "You so cheated."

My grin was just as wide. "It was fun. Say it was fun."

Please say it was fun and that you liked it and wanted to do it all over again.

I mean we were out here in the forest, the two of us, all alone.

She shook her head at me, refusing to answer. Instead, she said gratefully, "Thank you for what you did for me–the great-Crowther-rat-hunt."

I huffed a laugh at the name. If Valarie found out, she'd be all over celebrating it once a year. "It's okay. I thoroughly enjoyed it." Stone and grass scuffed away as I toed the earth with a sneaker thinking how pale and twitchy Sanela Deniaud had become when she'd discovered what I'd done. I thought she was going to faint or implode with fury. It was the best fucking fun ever destroying all those precious antiques and paintings. And the Matriarch of the House couldn't do a single about it.

Tabitha's jacket made a swishing sound as she crouched down to tuck her dagger away in the side pocket of her rucksack. I recognized it as being the same heavy canvas bag she was carrying the last time I'd come across her in the forest when she pretended to have gone on a run. Wet grass brushed against my calves as I moved closer to her and under the oak. An uneasy feeling drifted inside my chest as I caught the metallic smell of blood carried on the brisk air. What was she up to out here?

The thought was obliterated the moment my errant gaze snagged on the half-eaten muesli bar sitting on the tree trunk she'd used as a seat. My stomach grumbled. "Are you going to finish that?"

Tabitha followed my line of sight and she waved her fingers at it. "Go ahead."

My stomach sighed in relief as I snatched up the bar and practically shoved it in my mouth, chomping down and moaning in pleasure. Sweet chocolatey bits melted on my tongue, accompanied by a zing of chewy apricot and buttery macadamia. So fucking delicious.

Amusement had her green eyes sparkling as she rose to stand once more. She was silently laughing at me.

I frowned. "What's so funny?"

"You're so obscenely loud. Just as loud as you were last night, except that's food."

"I'm starving," I pouted, but genuinely delighted I amused her. And yes, I couldn't help it, I was loud when I fucked. And one of these days, hopefully sometime soon, she was going to find that out for herself.