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of what this meant, he’d stalled. Hell, if she’d let him lift her into his arms and whisk her off to his bed, he’d call in sick for the first time ever.
    “I’ll probably watch old movies,” she said.
    Not acceptable. His words bubbled out, boiling hot. “I love that you’re here with me, Evangeline. Say you won’t go yet.”
    “Where?” Her eyelids fluttered. “I don’t have any place to go.”
    “Don’t stay because of that. Stay because you want to be with me.” The clock ticked away the minutes, and the distance between them seemed to grow. Finally she gave him a heart-flipping smile.
    “I love being with you, Sean.” Her words burned his heart, but a cold dread coated his flesh at her expression. She’d pressed the red mark at the corner of her eye hard with a forefinger. He worried about her headaches, and wondered if the tense set of her narrow shoulders could be because of him.

Runes:
Chapter Five

    Evangeline sank to the sofa and tucked her knees to her chest, listening to the gates and grills clatter shut and lock. The tears she’d suppressed burned her chest, and she lowered her face and let them fall.
    Evangeline.
    The voice broke through her haze of pain, but only exacerbated it. She didn’t know how much longer she could conceal her craziness from Sean. Her mind echoed with voices day and night, filling her with terror. She feared her drug abuse, and past experiences with her father had driven her over the edge, and she was now the proud owner of a multiple personality disorder.
    You’re not crazy, the voice said. Please don’t cry.
    Shut up. Get out of my head.
    The clang of the metal doors being opened again made her leap to her feet. She half-ran across the room, aware of a pinprick of light in her mind along with the sound of Jim Morrison and the scents of musk and cigarettes.
    She longed for Sean’s arms and smoldering gaze. This time maybe she’d let him carry her to his bed and sleep all night against his protective chest.
    Please, Evangeline. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.
    She grabbed fistfuls of her hair and yanked as if she could pull him from her head.
    The final door opened and she threw herself forward, only to be caught by a much taller stranger. She slammed into him, recoiling at the smell of pot and cheap beer.
    “Whoa. This is my lucky day,” he exclaimed, holding her.
    She struggled to break free of him, but he gripped her ass, and pressed her to his crotch. A scream ripped from her lungs, and he silenced her with a kiss. They tumbled backward together, her hip striking the concrete painfully. Pinned to the concrete, she fought for escape. His hard-on ground into her, digging her spine into the floor. Outraged, in pain, she bit him on the mouth. He reared up and back-handed her.
    His huge hand rocked her head, smashing her teeth into her cheek, and she spat blood into his face, twisting and kicking with every ounce of strength. Inside her mind, Will was going berserk. His roars of fury assailed her, and her ears rang from the blow to her head. The intruder fumbled between his legs. She felt the length of his shaft on her bare thigh.
    Why, oh why, had she worn the short skirt?
    Don’t let him rape you, Will’s voice warned.
    She viciously jammed a knee upward, but her attacker anticipated her move and spread her legs wide, forcing a finger inside her. She shrieked until her vocal chords threatened to tear. In her head, Will sank his knuckles into a wall with a bone-jarring crack.
    And then suddenly, the weight pinning her to the floor was gone.
    From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of Sean’s dark hair. She rolled onto her side, gasping and crying. She struggled to her knees. The finger of her alter ego, Will Cochran, mentally stroked her tattoo, and she collapsed forward once again.
    The brutal thuds of Sean’s blows reached her ears. Her head lolled to the side in time to see him deliver a kick to the sternum of her attacker. He fell