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It took me three tries to say, “You carrying?”

“You mean a gun?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“If I’m the only one armed, then you ain’t my security.”

He looked like he’d argue, and Requiem said, “There are many ways to guard someone’s body, Graham. If we do not help her warm herself, then I fear we will be going to the emergency room with her. Would you like to explain to Jean-Claude how you let that happen, when you could have prevented it with such a small action on your part?”

“No,” Graham said, and eased himself in around my right side. It was as if he were a totally different person from the one that got that taste of orgasm from me earlier. He seemed stiff and uncomfortable. He slid his arm across my shoulders tentatively, awkwardly.

“She will not break, Graham,” Requiem said.

“I’ve forgotten my job twice tonight. I don’t want to do it a third time.”

I snuggled in against the warmth of his body, burrowing under his leather jacket to find where the heat was trapped between his own body and the leather. He was so warm, so incredibly warm.

“God, she fits under my arm.” That arm curled around me, almost reflexively, as if he just couldn’t help himself. “She seems so much bigger when she’s moving around, or talking, or doing anything.” His voice sounded puzzled, and soft. His arm wrapped around me, tucking me close in against the line of his body, and he was right, I did fit. He was around six feet, and I so wasn’t. He could have cradled me like a child, and I hated that, but he was so warm, so warm. His body felt almost hot. We were about a week away from full moon, and some lycanthrope’s body temperature went up before the change, almost like a fever. Either I was colder than I thought, or Graham was one of the wereanimals that ran hot.

My teeth stopped chattering, and it was as if my muscles began to unclench. I still had small involuntary spasms, but it was better.

“Can I pick you up?” Graham asked, and he sounded like he expected me to say no.

I said, “Why?”

“You’ll be warmer,” he said.

I thought about it. He was probably right, but it would reinforce that I was tiny enough to sit in his lap and cuddle against his chest like a child. I really hated doing shit like that. But he was probably right, it would be warmer. Damn it.

“Yes,” I said, and even to me it didn’t sound happy.

“Are you sure?”

“The lady has spoken, Graham, do not make her repeat herself,” Requiem said.

Graham hesitated for a second, then he scooped me up in his arms, like I weighed nothing. He sat me on his lap, and I found another downside to the thong. He must have been wearing new jeans because they weren’t soft. I was so not wearing enough underwear, or enough skirt. But I’d dressed mostly for meeting Jean-Claude and Asher later in the evening. I’d been thinking date, not medical emergencies. Silly me.

He was able to curl most of me underneath his jacket against his chest, the rest of me curled into a small ball in his lap, with just a little leg off to one side. He put one of his arms across that spill of leg, and the other arm held the jacket tight around me. Requiem helped us get the blanket draped around us, and the only thing uncovered was the top of my head. It was dark and warm, and I laid my head against his chest, and the T-shirt was a thin barrier between me and the heat of his skin. I let my body ease into the warmth of his skin, and the scent of leather, and just him. I realized why his scent seemed so comfortable to me. He smelled like pack, that faint scent that all of Richard’s wolves had. I was too friendly with too many of them not to equate that faint ruffling musk with safety. I let myself sink into a warm nest of leather, and blanket, and body, and shared warmth, and the distant smell of wolf, and I slept.

The next thing I was aware of was Graham’s voice, very soft, as if he didn’t really want to wake me. “Anita, Anita, they’re done with the zombie.”

For a second I couldn’t remember where I was, or who was talking to me. Fresh from sleep, to me his body felt more like Richard’s than anyone else’s.