Kiss of a Dark Moon by Sharie Kohler

imagine they know where you live by now.” Moving to the window, he parted the blinds and peered out at the quiet morning. “Every moment you remain here you risk your life.”
    She rose from the bed and began tossing things into her duffel bag. “I’ll go,” she ground out, the bitterness filling her mouth, threatening to choke her.
    Darius leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. Shoulders of a linebacker. “I’ll escort you out.”
    She snorted and sent him a sharp look. He still talked as if he lived in another century, further reminding her of the gulf between them—of what he was: the very thing she loathed. A bad taste filled her mouth as she studied him. “No, thanks.”
    He dipped his head and looked down at her with those damnable silver eyes, his voice clipped and reproving, “Kit—”
    â€œNo.” She flung her last shirt into her bag and fought with the stubborn zipper, careful to keep her gaze away from him, knowing the full power of those lycan eyes, their ability to enthrall, if she let him get the better of her. No lycan had before. She’d be damned if one succeeded now—even if he was an ally of sorts. “I don’t need your help.”
    â€œNo?” His voice was mocking, sharp with skepticism, and she knew what he was thinking. That if it weren’t for him, she might very well have gone blithely about her business this morning. And found herself dead.
    The zipper finally sang closed. Nostrils flaring, she slung the duffel over her shoulder, ready to move into the bathroom to gather her few things there.
    â€œThanks for warning me.” Even those words stuck in her throat. “Now go. I can handle myself.”
    One of his dark brows lifted.
    She motioned to the door, needing him gone, too flustered when he was around. “I don’t need your help.”
    â€œYou mean you don’t want it?”
    She shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t want it.”
    After a long moment he pushed his large frame off the wall, the house’s old wooded floor creaking beneath his weight. “Very well.” At the doorway, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. “I only hope your stubbornness won’t get you killed. Your brother won’t thank me for that.”
    â€œI’ll survive.” It was the principle of the matter. She didn’t want to accept his help. Regardless of how he lived his life now, he was a monster. He had killed and fed on the innocent. Nothing could change that. Not his friendship with her brother. Not his helping her. He lacked a soul. For good reason.
    The heavy tread of his steps receded on the stairs as she hurried into the bathroom to collect her things. Back in her room again, she quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Snatching her cell phone, she stared at it for a long moment, biting her lip until the coppery taste of blood ran over her teeth.
    She needed to talk to Gideon, but she couldn’t risk it. She was a sitting duck with her phone turned on. NODEAL—and now EFLA—had reach. Most NODEAL agents worked for HPD, with Cooper. It had been the perfect cover…and it provided them with access to technologies limited to them otherwise. They could track her phone’s GPS in seconds.
    They could track her. Just as they could track Gideon via his cell phone—if they hadn’t already. Knowing she had to warn him, she quickly typed a text message cautioning him to go to ground and wait for her to join him, confident she could find the cabin where they had vacationed as children.
    After sending the message, she turned her phone off and shoved it into her bag. She hoped her brother would get the message soon—before they homed in on his location. He would trust her enough to follow her instructions.
    She hit the stairs two at a time, her ears straining amid the silence of the house as she moved into the kitchen and