He dropped his hand, and a hard light replaced the warmth in his eyes. "I have to go. We'll continue this discussion later."
Memories rose to haunt her. In a more appropriate manner, Brian would have added. She shivered again. Jon frowned slightly, then thrust a hand through his hair and walked away toward the inn.
She watched him go. He was nothing like her husband. There was gentle strength in him, a confidence in every action that made him appear so much taller than he was. Brian had been tall—a mountain who had once made a frightened eighteen-year-old feel secure, and later terrified a twenty-year-old.
So why did she keep drawing comparisons between them? Why did the things Jon said or did remind her constantly of Brian? It wasn't as if they even looked the same—only the blue of their eyes was similar, and she'd seen more emotion in Jon's gaze in the last five minutes than she'd ever seen in Brian's during their six-year marriage.
Oh God, why couldn't she just take Jon's advice and leave this town and all the memories it raised?
She bit her lip. She might have done nothing to save Brian or her brother, but she'd be damned if she'd run this time.
A bitter laugh escaped her at the thought. She was already damned. No one could save her, not even Jon.
She touched her cheek. Her skin still tingled from the slight brush of his fingers. Moisture seeped from one edge of the cut. She wiped it away, then stared at the blood on her fingertips. The ghosts had been real. She had the wounds to prove it. So why couldn't shapeshifters be real as well?
She watched Jon disappear inside the inn. Anger surged through her. It wasn't fair. All her life, people had walked away from her. Or run, in some cases. And just when she thought she'd found someone who might at least understand, he too, had walked away—to be with another woman.
Would a few more minutes really have mattered? She needed to talk to him, needed someone to understand her pain and guilt. Needed him to hold her, touch her, and tell her everything would be all right. Even if she knew it was all just a lie.
She had a sudden vision of Evan lying cold and still on the cabin floor, and took a deep breath.
She was being selfish. Her nephew was the important one here. He was all that mattered. What she wanted—needed—didn't count.
The fire engine pulled up next to the curb, and the other guests milled toward it. The red flashing lights washed across their faces, making them look almost bloody. Maddie shivered and rubbed her arms. She hoped it wasn't a premonition of more death headed her way.
"You were lucky in there tonight." The comment came from the night behind her.
She yelped and spun around. Hank stood near the seat, his hands in his pockets and a watchful gleam in his eyes.
She swallowed and put her hand to her throat. How long had he been standing there, listening to them?
"I'm sorry. You scared me."
"Didn't mean to."
Not much,she thought, staring at the malicious gleam in his dead eyes. "How's the room?"
He shrugged. "The fire had been put out, but I called the fire department, just to be safe."
"Was there much damage?"
"I think the extinguisher caused more damage than the fire. You won't be able to use the room tonight, I'm afraid."
Maddie knew she wouldn't have been able to sleep in the room even if she had been able to use it.
"Were my belongings touched?"
"Not by the fire."
It wasn't what she'd asked, and he knew it. A hint of a smile played around his thin lips.
She crossed her arms. "Would it be okay for me to go up and get them?"
He raised an eyebrow in query. It made him look more than ever like a vulture. A vulture waiting to pick the bones of his prey.
"Why? Intending to go somewhere?"
As far away from you as possible.She forced a smile. "I have to go home."
"A shame you have to cut your holiday short," he said and took a step closer.
She resisted the urge to back away. He wouldn't harm her, surely, with the other guests milling near the fire engine behind them.
But looking into the dead emptiness of his eyes, she suddenly wasn't so sure.
"But some strange things have sure been happening around here," he continued, and gave her a cold, almost cruel smile. "I'd leave immediately. Hell of a lot safer that way, if you catch my drift."
Up until now, she'd thought Brian was the most intimidating man she'd ever met. But he'd had nothing on Hank. Throat dry, she nodded.
Hank raised his hand and touched the wound on her cheek. Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed heavily and forced herself to remain still.
"I'd hate that pretty face of yours to get all messed up."
"So would I," Jon said behind her.
Chapter Ten
Jon stopped behind her, so close that his body brushed against hers. His scent spun around her, an odd mix of sea spray and old wood. Warmth that was all too comforting tingled across her senses. Maddie clenched her fists, as frightened by her response to his nearness as she was of Hank. But she didn't move. Even if she had wanted to, the two men had her penned, like a lamb caught between two wolves.
Hank smiled and lowered his hand. "Miss Smith was just telling me she's planning to leave."
"Then you'd better go get her bill ready, hadn't you?" Though there was no hint of menace in Jon's soft voice, a flicker of fear ran across Hank's thin features.
His dead gaze ran past them. For an instant, it almost looked as if he was consulting someone. Then he nodded and quickly scuttled away. Jon touched her arms and turned her around.
"You okay?"
His eyes were full of concern, and it was almost her undoing. For a minute it looked like he cared. She lowered her gaze and stepped away.
"I was doing just fine, thanks." Her voice sounded tart again, but she couldn't help it. She wanted this man to hold her, and that simply wasn't an option.
"Here, take this," he said, and held out her coat. "It's warmer than my sweater."
"Thanks." His gesture surprised her. Had he gone back into the inn just to get it? Why? As he'd pointed out, he had a meeting to get to. She slipped off his sweater, handing it to him before putting on her coat.
He slung the sweater over his shoulder. Maybe he liked the rain. Or maybe he just didn't plan to stay in his wet clothes all that long. She bit her lip and looked down at her feet.
"Have you decided to leave after all?" he said.
"Just the inn. I don't think it's safe anymore."
"You may be right." He glanced thoughtfully at the inn then back at her. The warmth had fled his eyes again, leaving them carefully neutral. "I really do have to go."
"Then go. Have your fun with Eleanor. I can look after myself."
His eyes darkened with annoyance. Maddie grimaced. She wasn't being fair. He was doing his best to find Evan, and being catty about it certainly wouldn't help anyone. If he was treating Eleanor as nothing more than a lead, why couldn't she?
Because I saw the way she clung to him, and it annoyed the hell out of me.
She swallowed and looked away. "I saw a hotel on the other side of the bridge. Sea View, I think it was called. I'll grab a taxi to my car, then drive out and book us a room."
"All right, then." He hesitated, then reached up and touched her cheek with his fingertips. His caress was gentle and made something deep within her tremble in response. "Wash your wounds, then rest. I'll be there as soon as I can."
He walked away again. She watched him until he'd disappeared from sight, then sighed and headed into the inn. The firemen were still in the building, but they allowed her to collect her bag. She was glad of their presence, especially when she came out of the bedroom and found Hank waiting for her.