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As she pulled the sheets up to her collarbones, John opened the door a crack and Z’s voice drifted in. “Everything all right in here?”

Nope. Not even close.

Xhex rubbed her face and tried to replug into reality. Tough assignment. Her body felt weightless and disconnected, and man, that floaty thing was so not helping her on the get-grounded front.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why her subconscious had burped up that shit about her first trip through the abduction park. Staying in the OR while John had had his lead-ectomy had obviously been like a hot, spicy meal for her brain, with the nightmare being the cranial version of acid reflux.

Christ, she had a case of the fop sweats, her upper lip beading, her palms wringing damp.

In desperation, she focused on what she could see through the partially open door to the bathroom.

Turned out the toothbrushes on the marble counter saved her. The pair were standing up in the silver cup between the two sinks, looking like a couple of kibitzers who’d tilted their heads together to swap gossip. Both were John’s, she was guessing, because guests were on the whole not welcome in this house.

One was blue. The other red. Both had the green bristles in the center that turned white over time to let you know when to get new ones.

Nice. Normal. Boring. Maybe if she’d had a little more of all that she wouldn’t be looking for life’s exit door. Or having nightmares that turned her voice box into a bullhorn.

John bade Z good-bye and came back over to her, leaving his gun on the bedside table and slipping under the covers. His warm body was solid and smooth against hers, and she went to him with an ease that she guessed was common among lovers.

But something she’d never had with anyone before.

As he pulled his head back so she could see his face, he mouthed, What was it?

“Dream. Very bad dream. From back when . . .” She took a deep breath. “When I was in that clinic.”

He didn’t press her for details. Instead, she just felt her hair getting stroked.

In the silence that followed, she didn’t intend to talk about the past—especially when the last thing she needed was more echoes of the nightmare. But somehow, words formed in her throat and she couldn’t hold them back.

“I burned the facility down.” Her heart thumped as she remembered, but at least the recall of what had happened wasn’t as bad as being back there in a dream. “It’s weird . . . I’m not sure the humans thought they were doing anything wrong—they treated me like a prized zoo animal, giving me everything I needed to survive while they poked and prodded at me and ran test after test. . . . Well, most of the humans were good to me. There was a sadistic fuck in the group.” She shook her head. “They kept me for about a month or two and tried to give me human blood to keep me going, but they could read the clinical indicators that I was getting weaker and weaker. I got free because one of them set me loose.”

John rolled over on his back and put his hands into the shaft of light. Shit, I’m so sorry. But I’m glad you dusted the place.

In her mind, she pictured her return trip to where she’d been held—and the sooty aftermath. “Yeah, I had to burn the thing down. I’d been free for a while when I went back and did it—but I couldn’t sleep for the nightmares. I lit the facility up after they’d left for the day. Although,” she held a forefinger up, “there might have been one rather nasty death. But the son of a bitch deserved it. I’m an eye-for-an-eye kind of girl.”

John’s hands reappeared to sign, That’s pretty obvious—and not a bad thing at all.

Provided it wasn’t Lash, she thought to herself.

“Mind if I ask you something?” When he shrugged, she whispered, “The night you took me around town . . . had you been back to any of those places before?”

Not really. John shook his head. I don’t like to dwell on the past. I go forward.

“How I envy you. Me, I can’t seem to get free of history.”

And it wasn’t just about the clinic shit or Lash’s little love-nest nightmare. For some reason, the fact that she’d never fit