LOGINThree more dinners. Two weeks of texts that were short and direct and made her stomach flip every time her phone buzzed. Harlan didn't flirt. He stated things. *I'm thinking about you. I don't do that often.* Or: *You wore your hair down today. I noticed.* Or, at midnight on a Tuesday: *Are you writing?*
She was always writing. Or trying to. On the third dinner, he drove her to his place. Not a penthouse. Not what she expected. A brownstone on Holloway Street, three stories, brick, ivy on the front. Old. The kind of old that had character, not decay. The inside was clean and sparse. Hardwood floors, white walls, furniture that looked expensive but felt like it had been chosen by someone who didn't care about furniture. A kitchen that had never been used. A living room with one couch and a stack of books on architecture. "Your place is very you," she said. "What does that mean?" "Big. Clean. Slightly intimidating." He poured wine. Red. He handed her the glass and stood close. Too close. The kind of close that said I'm about to do something and I'm giving you time to stop me. She didn't stop him. His hand came up. Fingers on her jaw. Tilting her face. His palm was warm, that same too-warm warmth she'd felt when their fingers touched at the coffee shop. He looked at her mouth. Then her eyes. Then her mouth again. "I've been thinking about this," he said. "For how long?" "Since you handed me a coffee and said trust me." She laughed, soft, against his thumb. "I said trust me about the oat milk latte. That was Dane." Something moved behind his eyes. A flash. Green to gold and back so fast she thought she imagined it. "I know." He kissed her. Not gentle. Not soft. Harlan kissed the way he did everything: like he'd already decided. His mouth on hers, firm, certain. His hand slid from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers in her hair, gripping just tight enough to hold her still while his tongue found hers. He tasted like red wine and heat. She put her hands on his chest. His heart was hammering. Steady and hard, like a fist against a door. She could feel the warmth of him through his shirt, through her palms, like he was running a fever. "Upstairs," he said against her mouth. "OK." The bedroom was the same as the rest of the house. Clean. Sparse. A big bed with grey sheets. Windows that looked out on a garden she couldn't see in the dark. He closed the door and the room got smaller. He pulled her shirt over her head. Dropped it. His eyes went to her body and stayed there. She was in a black bra, nothing fancy, but the way he looked at her made her feel like she was wearing something that cost a thousand dollars. His gaze moved over her like hands. "You're beautiful." He said it flatly. Like a fact. Like the weather. "Harlan." "Shh." He unhooked her bra. One hand. No fumbling. He'd done this before. A lot. But the way he looked at her when the bra fell, the way his breath caught, it felt like the first time he'd seen skin. He put his mouth on her. Lips on her collarbone, her chest, the curve of her breast. His tongue found her nipple and she gasped. His mouth was hot. Hotter than it should have been. Like he was running ten degrees above normal. His tongue circled, then he sucked, gentle at first, then harder, pulling her nipple into his mouth until her back arched off the bed. "God." "Not yet." He moved to the other breast. His hand found the first one, thumb rolling the wet nipple while his mouth worked the other. She could feel the heat of his palm, the roughness of his thumb. Her hips moved on their own, pressing up, looking for friction that wasn't there yet. He kissed down her stomach. Slow. His hands on her hips, holding her down when she tried to press up into his mouth. He was strong. Stronger than he looked, and he looked strong. His grip on her hips was iron. She couldn't move. "Stay still," he said against her skin, just above the waistband of her jeans. "I can't." "You can." He unbuttoned her jeans. Pulled them down, slow, taking her underwear with them. She was bare on his grey sheets and he was still fully dressed and the imbalance of it, the vulnerability, made her pulse kick. He looked at her. All of her. His eyes tracked from her face to her breasts to her stomach to between her legs and he stayed there, looking, and she felt herself flush from her chest to her hairline. "Harlan, if you just stare at me I'm going to." His mouth was on her before she finished the sentence. No warning. No buildup. His tongue found her clit and pressed flat against it and she broke off into a sound that wasn't a word. He worked her slow at first. Broad strokes, his tongue flat and wide, covering her. Then he focused. The tip of his tongue circling her clit, tight, precise, while his hands held her thighs apart. She tried to close her legs. She couldn't. His grip was too strong. He held her open and ate her like he had all night. She didn't have all night. She had about two minutes. "Harlan. Harlan, I'm." He slid a finger inside her. One thick finger, curling up, pressing against the front wall while his tongue kept working her clit. She felt her body tighten around him. His finger was hot inside her, so hot, and he curled it again and she came with her hand fisted in his hair and her back bowed off the bed. He didn't stop. He worked her through it, slowing his tongue, easing his finger in and out while she shook. When she stilled, he kissed her inner thigh and looked up at her. His chin was wet. His eyes were gold. Gold. She blinked. Green again. She must have imagined it. "Condom?" she managed. "Nightstand." She reached. He caught her wrist. Held it. "My turn first." He stood. Pulled his shirt over his head. His body was lean and cut, the kind of muscle that came from genetics and something else. His shoulders were broad, his stomach flat, his chest defined. And on his back, running from his left shoulder blade to his hip, was a scar. Thick. Old. Pink and white, like something had raked four lines down his back and the skin had healed around the memory. "What happened to your back?" He turned, hiding it. "Old injury." "Old how?" "Very old." He unbuttoned his jeans. Pulled them down. He was hard. Big. Not exaggerated, not impossible, but big enough that she felt her body react, a clench between her legs that was anticipation and a little bit of fear. Thick. The head flushed dark, the shaft veined, curving slightly upward. He was proportionate to his frame, which meant more than she was used to. He rolled the condom on. Came back to the bed. Hovered over her. His forearms on either side of her head. His face close. Those eyes, green, watching her. "Tell me if it's too much." "It won't be." "It might." "Then I'll tell you." He kissed her. She tasted herself on his tongue. He positioned himself between her legs, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance. She was wet. Wet from his mouth, wet from coming, wet from wanting. He pushed in. Slow. Inch by inch. He took his time. She felt herself stretching around him, adjusting, her body opening to accommodate his thickness. He filled her and kept filling her, the curve of his cock pressing against her front wall in a way that made her gasp against his mouth. "OK?" he asked. "More." He gave her more. Deeper. His hips pressed flush against hers and he held there, buried inside her, and she could feel his heartbeat through his cock. That fast, steady, hammering pulse. His body was so warm. She felt like she was lying next to a furnace. He started to move. Long strokes. Pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in deep. Each thrust pressed his pelvis against her clit and sent a shock through her whole body. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he groaned. Low. Chest-deep. A sound that was almost a growl. "Fuck, Josie." "Harder." He went harder. His hips snapped forward, driving into her, the bed frame hitting the wall. She grabbed the headboard. The impact of each thrust shook through her, her breasts bouncing, her body sliding on the sheets. He caught her hands, pinned them above her head, one big hand wrapping both her wrists. He held her down and fucked her and she couldn't move, couldn't do anything but take it. "Say it," he said. His voice was rough. "Say you're mine." Her mouth opened. She almost. Almost. But something stopped her. That dream. That feeling. That warning bell that said some words are doors and once you walk through them you can't come back. "Don't," she whispered. His rhythm stuttered. He groaned. Dropped his head to her shoulder. His breath was hot on her neck, too hot, almost burning. She felt his teeth. Not a bite. A press. His canines against her shoulder, pressing down, not breaking skin, but there. Sharp. Sharper than they should have been. He came with a shudder. His whole body locked, every muscle rigid, and he drove deep and held. She felt him pulse inside her, the condom filling, and his heat was so intense she felt it through the latex. She came again, just from the pressure of him buried inside her and the weight of his body and the feeling of his teeth on her shoulder, not breaking skin, just holding. He stayed inside her for a long time. Breathing. His breath slowing. His body cooling, degree by degree, back toward something approaching normal. He lifted his head. His eyes were green. Steady. But his jaw was tight, like he was clenching something back. "You didn't say it," he said. "Say what?" He pulled out. Rolled away. Disposed of the condom. He came back to bed and lay beside her, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "Nothing," he said. "It was nothing." She curled against his side. His skin was warm. Comforting, now, in the aftermath. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat slow. "Harlan." "Hmm." "Your back. That scar. It looks like claw marks." He was quiet for a long time. "It is." "From what?" "Something old." He kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep, Josie." She didn't go to sleep. She lay there against his chest and thought about gold eyes and teeth that were too sharp and a scar that looked like something with claws had tried to open him up. On his nightstand, his phone lit up. A text. She couldn't read it from where she lay, but she saw the name on the screen. Dane K. *Well?*He came at closing.Not seven twelve. Not nine-thirty. Nine fifty-five, five minutes before she locked the door, and he didn't order coffee. He stood in the doorway with his hands in his jacket pockets and his green eyes tracking her movements as she wiped down the espresso machine."We're closed," she said."I know.""Then why are you here?""Because I wanted to see you and I didn't want to wait until morning."Patsy had left at eight. The shop was empty. The chairs were up on the tables. The only light was the glow of the pastry case and the streetlamp outside, yellow through the rain-streaked windows."You could have texted.""I did. You didn't answer."She checked her phone. Three texts from him, all from the last twenty minutes. *Are you still at work.* *I'm outside.* *I'm coming in.* She'd been in the back, counting the register, and hadn't heard the phone."I was counting the drawer."
Underground. Below the city. The room of stone and torches.Seven chairs around the black oak table. Six were occupied. The seventh, at the head, was empty. It was always empty. It belonged to something older than any of them, something that hadn't been seen in Ash Harbor for a hundred years.Harlan sat at one end. Dane at the other. Between them, five other men and women who looked human and weren't. Each one controlled a different district of the city. Each one wore a ring with the claw symbol. Each one had a beast underneath their skin.The Hollow. The society that had run Ash Harbor since before it had a name. Before the colonists. Before the tribes. Before the first human set foot on the harbor and thought, this is a good place to build. It was already built. By things that didn't have blueprints."Two weeks," said a woman named Margit. She was thin, pale, with white-blonde hair and eyes that were silver when she forgot to control them. She ran the eastside docks. Her beast was s
Dane didn't take her to dinner.Dane came to her apartment with grocery bags and a bottle of tequila and said, "I'm cooking for you. Don't argue."She didn't argue. She watched him move around her tiny kitchen like he'd been there for years. He was too big for the space. His shoulders nearly touched both walls when he reached for the cabinet. He found her one good pan, her dull knife, and the spice rack her mother had sent from Tucson. He made enchiladas verde from memory, from a recipe he said his grandmother taught him, and they were better than her mother's, which she would never tell her mother."You cook," she said, watching him plate."I do many things." He set the plate in front of her. Sat down. Poured tequila. "Eat."They ate. They drank. The tequila was good, smooth, the kind that didn't need lime or salt. They sat on her kitchen floor because her kitchen had two chairs and one was holding a stack of books and a terrarium she'd started and then abandoned. Her legs were stret
Three more dinners. Two weeks of texts that were short and direct and made her stomach flip every time her phone buzzed. Harlan didn't flirt. He stated things. *I'm thinking about you. I don't do that often.* Or: *You wore your hair down today. I noticed.* Or, at midnight on a Tuesday: *Are you writing?*She was always writing. Or trying to.On the third dinner, he drove her to his place. Not a penthouse. Not what she expected. A brownstone on Holloway Street, three stories, brick, ivy on the front. Old. The kind of old that had character, not decay. The inside was clean and sparse. Hardwood floors, white walls, furniture that looked expensive but felt like it had been chosen by someone who didn't care about furniture. A kitchen that had never been used. A living room with one couch and a stack of books on architecture."Your place is very you," she said."What does that mean?""Big. Clean. Slightly intimidating."He poured wine. Red. He handed her the glass and stood close. Too close
He asked her on a Friday.Not in person. By text. Because apparently that was how Harlan Voss operated. He showed up, he ordered, he stared, and then he texted you later from somewhere you couldn't see him.*Dinner. Tomorrow. Felker's on Third. Seven.*It wasn't a question. None of his sentences were questions. They were arrangements. Decisions that had already been made, delivered to her phone like weather reports. Tomorrow: rain. Tomorrow: dinner with a man who owned buildings.She should have said no. She should have said I don't know you. She should have said you texted me about my boots and that's weird, Harlan.She said: *I get off at four.**I know.*"Of course you do," she muttered, and got ready for bed.Saturday. Her day off. She spent the morning writing, which meant she stared at her laptop and wrote four hundred words about a woman opening a door and finding another door behind it. Then she deleted three hundred of them. The novel was stuck. It had been stuck for months.
Harlan came in at seven twelve. Same order. Same twenty on the counter. Same green eyes that scanned the room before they found her.But today he stayed.He took the coffee to the back corner booth, sat down, and opened his phone. He didn't look at Josie. He didn't need to. She could feel him the way you feel someone watching you from across a dark parking lot. That prickle on the back of your neck. That animal awareness that says something is looking at you and it knows exactly what you are.She wiped the counter. She reorganized the syrup bottles. She refilled the napkin dispensers. She did everything she could think of that would keep her behind the counter and not walking over to that booth.She walked over to that booth."Refill?"He looked up. His phone screen was dark. He hadn't been reading anything. He'd been sitting there with a black coffee and a dark phone screen and he'd been doing what? Thinking? Waiting?"Sure." He pushed the cup toward her. His fingers brushed hers whe







