Page 23 of Shadow Burn

At that exact moment, Priss shot out from beneath the bed like a gray demon launched from a cannon. She streaked between the intruder’s legs. He lost his balance, and his arm flew wide. The gun went off again.

The sound punched into the room. The bullet hissed past Katherine’s face so close she felt the air move. It buried itself in the wall near the closet with a hard thunk.

Priss vanished through the half-open bedroom door in a streak of fur and righteous panic. The gun bounced on the floor and spun away, disappearing under the bed, as the man fell into the dresser.

From the back of the house came the sound of the door crashing against the wall as it was thrown open. “Katherine!”

Jasper’s voice tore through the rental, no longer filtered through the phone. Real. Close. Furious.

The man heard it, too.

He glanced at the half-open bedroom door and then frantically searched for his weapon. Jasper was coming, and the man had seconds.

He turned for the window.

Katherine staggered back, raising the book again. But he lunged toward the opening, grabbed the frame, and hauled himself through.

Glass tore at his jacket. The old wooden frame groaned. He dropped and disappeared.

“Katherine!”

The bedroom door exploded inward, and the dresser toppled sideways with a crash. Jasper came through with his weapon drawn, eyes sweeping the room in a single terrifying pass.

Window. Bed. Bathroom. Katherine.

He reached her in three strides. “Where is he?”

Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. She lifted one shaking hand and pointed. Jasper’s gaze snapped to the broken window. “Out,” she managed.

He looked her over, his brow furrowed. “Are you hurt?”

Her throat was too tight to speak. She shook her head.

He moved to the window, weapon steady, as he looked into the yard.

For one awful second, Katherine thought he might go after him. “Don’t.” Her voice cracked on the word. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

Jasper turned back. Whatever he saw in her face ended the decision. He crossed to her, holstered his gun, and caught her just as her knees gave out.

She fell into him. Her face buried into his chest and she shook so hard her teeth chattered.

He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her close. “You’re okay,” he said. His voice was rough, almost unrecognizable. “I’ve got you.”

Her hands grasped at his shirt. “He knew my name,” she said.

Jasper was quiet for a heartbeat. “He’s gone now.”

“He had a gun.”

“I know.”

“He shot at me.”

Jasper’s grip on her tightened. “I know.”

Cold air poured in through the broken window. She felt his heart beating hard beneath her cheek. Too hard. In that moment, he wasn’t the Jasper who made dry jokes about her love language.

This Jasper had been afraid.