Becca spun, threw the opera glasses aside and ran for her bedside table. Her leg hit the bed and she nearly fell in the dark room but found the phone on her bedside table. Silence met her ear instead of a dial tone when she yanked the receiver up. She was afraid to turn on a light, didn’t want to risk the burglar being alerted if he happened to look out into the backyard when it came on. She tapped the cradle. The damn thing was dead.

Don’t panic and think! My cell phone! She’d left her purse downstairs somewhere near the front door. She eased open the drawer first, her fingers searched and found cold metal and she grabbed the gun. It felt heavy in her hand but she’d be damned if she let that asshole get away with killing Mel too. She could still be alive and might not have but a few minutes for the cops to arrive.

She stumbled for the door, hit the wall next to it and yanked it open. Becca ignored the hallway light switch, knowing the burglar would see the lights come on if he were looking out those curtainless windows toward her yard. A sob tore from her throat.

She tried to hold it together as she rushed down the dark hallway, misjudged the table and slammed into it. Becca cursed softly and gripped her knee. She hopped a few steps and clutched the gun tighter to avoid dropping the damn thing.

Motion made her gasp as a dark shape moved ahead of her. She opened her mouth to scream but remembered Brawn was in her house. The dark shadow stood in front of his room. Relief hit her big-time as she limped closer.

“I just saw my neighbor being murdered,” she whispered. “Don’t turn on the lights. The guy might see them and take off. I’m calling the police.”

“Are you sure?”

“He shot her in the face.” Becca gulped in air and felt hot tears streaming down her face. “Didn’t you hear that sound of…” She made a sobbing sound. “She’s dead. Her face was mush and there was blood. My cell phone is in my purse downstairs. The phone line is down in my bedroom. I don’t want the guy to get away.” She edged around him toward the stairs.

A pair of hands suddenly gripped her upper arms. “The phone line is down?”

“Yes.”

He growled.

“Let me go. I have to get my cell phone and be careful, I have my gun. That asshole isn’t going to get away if I have to shoot the fucker to keep him there for the cops to arrest.”

“How many men did you see?”

“One. Let go. I have to call the police and get over there before the guy gets away.”

“Don’t you think it’s alarming that your lines are down and your neighbor was just murdered?” His voice was soft. “Stay here. I have a cell phone in my room. Do not move.”

She leaned against the wall, realized her emotions were scrambled from sleep and shock and it probably wasn’t a bright idea to go climb the wall to face a burglar with a gun. As long as he didn’t realize someone had seen him, he’d take his time stealing from the house and she hadn’t seen Mel. She’d have been with Tina or she was already dead.

“Okay.”

His hands released her and he backed into his room. She stood there gripping the gun, trying to pull herself together. She wiped at tears, calmed enough to realize she was still a little drunk and Brawn was right. Calling the police was paramount. Brawn’s soft voice soothed her frayed nerves as he approached her. His dark shape halted inches from her.

“Send the police and help,” he ordered then the faint light of his cell phone died as he closed it.

“I contacted my people and they will have help to us soon.”

“Give me your phone. We need to dial 9-1-1.”

“They are doing it now. They are sending us help.”

“We don’t need help. You need to give me the phone. The police need to get to Tina’s house. Mel is there and she might still be alive. Give me the cell phone. He can’t get away with this. They need to catch him and I’m still a little drunk. I want to go over there to blow the bastard to hell the way he did Tina but I’d probably go to prison for killing him while inebriated. I can’t believe this is happ—”

“Be quiet,” Brawn suddenly hissed softly.

“I know I—”

A hand clamped over her mouth and he spun her around, just yanking her body tightly against his. One of his arms looped around her waist and his breath fanned her ear. His long hair tickled her arm.

“Someone is downstairs,” he whispered.

Terror slammed into her…but it might be her father. Maybe he’d heard Boomer bark or the sound of the gun going off. Boomer never barked at night and while the gunshot had sounded faint, unlike anything she’d ever heard, her dad was an expert with weapons. He’d know how all of them sounded when fired and would have identified it instantly.

He’d check on her first and come armed, since he slept with weapons in his nightstand drawer. Hell, he’d put the gun in Becca’s in case anyone ever broke in the house. It was always loaded, the safety off, ready to fire. She wanted to tell Brawn who it could be but his hand over her mouth prevented that.

Becca jumped when a noise came from below, a weird one that she’d never heard before and she had no idea what would cause it. It was kind of a soft motor sound and then there was a squishy sound, not a good one. Her father would have pounded up the stairs, searching for her. He would be worried sick and come after her like a charging bull to protect her.

Her heart hammered harder when it sank it that it wasn’t her father down there making the noises. Brawn’s hand over her mouth tightened and so did his arm around her waist. Her toes left the floor as he hoisted her higher up his tall body, backing them both inside his room.

“Don’t make a sound,” he breathed.

Becca kept her lips tightly sealed when the hand released her mouth. He used it to very quietly close the bedroom door and twisted the lock. He moved then, spun fast enough to make her dizzy and lifted her even higher as her legs brushed the side of his bed when he maneuvered them into the small bathroom.

“I smell four males inside your house.” He kept his voice low so that only she would hear him. “I smell blood too but I think it’s from an animal. I want you to sit on the floor in the corner and be very quiet. Do not make a sound. Do you understand me? Nod if you do. Do not speak or shoot me by accident.” He paused, one hand wrapped around hers and he tore the gun from her fingers. “I’ll keep this. You are still inebriated.”

She nodded, not sure how he knew that but couldn’t protest.

He eased her down his body and metal clinked when he set the gun down. Both his hands clutched at her, twisted her to face him, before he let go to grip the top of her head. He gently pushed, urging her to get down.

Her hands brushed hot, naked chest when she used his body to steady her trembling one. Adrenaline and the alcohol still in her system made her movements unsteady. She lowered, her hands sliding on his skin until she hit the cotton of his sweats and she realized that in any other circumstances this would probably be indecent as she crouched before him until her face was even with his groin.

Her back brushed the walls, it made her realize he’d cornered her near the sink and wall rack for towels. He released her scalp as he backed away. She lifted her chin and barely detected his dark shadow move until he reached the doorway where faint light from the main house’s floodlights, which her father always kept on, made him easier to see, illuminated somewhat even through the closed bedroom curtains in his room.

She crouched there, realized her nightshirt was wadded at her waist and her bare legs were exposed. If a light was on Brawn would be able to see her underwear and it was an undignified position with her legs spread apart. She didn’t move though, afraid she’d fall over or make a sound. Help was coming and Brawn was close. She wasn’t alone.

New Species had amazing hearing and night vision. Her father had told her that once. The other thing he’d told her was that they had bloodhound scent capability. That’s what he called it. He said most of them could smell things that others couldn’t. Brawn had said he’d smelled four men inside her house.