He really didn't want to hurt her. But, as he stood there and stared into her eyes, he realized he wouldn't be able to avoid it.

The bitter, acrid scent of her pain stung his nostrils and he watched as she rapidly blinked away tears forming in her eyes. She sniffed, moving her shoulders in a small shrug.

"I'm not asking you to tell me you love me, Kel."

But something about the way she looked at him made him doubt the truth of those words.

That, accompanied by the way her heartbeat spiked, the way the scent in the air around her changed ever so slightly. She gave him a wobbly smile, holding out a hand.

"I...I just want you to be actually be here with me...not thinking about her."

Instead of reaching for her hand, Kel reached out, cupped her cheek. "Phoebe, I'm sorry." He sighed, rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, stared into her dark, turbulent eyes. "I know what you want me to say-or what you're hoping I might say sooner or later. But it won't ever happen."

Phoebe flinched, jerking away from him. "You can't know that."

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he watched as she started to prowl the room, pacing it with slow, measured paces that wouldn't have been so disturbing if it wasn't for the way her eyes kept going back and forth between human and-not.

Shifters always threw off a lot of energy, but Kel realized he hadn't been with Phoebe with the full moon so close. Two days away. A lot of pent-up energy compressed into that small package-a lot of emotion and precious little control.

Hell, if given a choice, he'd rather deal with a pissed-off werewolf two days away from the full moon than a woman who'd convinced herself there was something deep between them.

He didn't know where all that emotion was coming from and he didn't know how to handle it. He couldn't give her the pretty lie she seemed to want, though.

Almost like she was aware of every last thought trolling through his mind, Phoebe turned and met his gaze. That sexy, challenging smile curled her lips and she shifted her focus. From her anger and whatever else was driving her...to him. Her large, dark brown eyes suddenly glowed a pale gold and when she smiled at him, her teeth glinted white and sharp-sharper. Longer, decidedly so.

"I didn't think I could say it either, Kel. Not until you. Not until the past few months, " she whispered, pacing towards him, placing one foot in front of the other, her hips moving with an exaggerated sway, like every last move she made was intent on seduction.

But Kel knew it wasn't an intentional thought. Phoebe, for whatever reason, had it in her head that she'd gone and fallen in love with him. She was acting on instinct and trying to respond to those urges.

"Everything about you is different." Her gaze dropped and she stared at the necklace around his neck, anger flickering in those dark brown depths-and for the briefest moment, there was a flash of red.

Mother fuck. Her gaze slowly lifted back to his and that anger he'd glimpsed was gone, replaced by yearning. Her voice was husky soft as she murmured, "Every day I see you, I want more from you, of you, from us."

Falling back a few steps, Kel curled a protective hand around the ring at his neck. "I can't give you any more, Phoebe." He shook his head as she moved to him and laid a hand on his cheek.

"Sure you can. Just..."

Kel reached up and closed his fingers around her wrist, easing her back. "There is no just. Just taking some more time won't do it. Just not thinking about it won't do it."

With a care he rarely showed her, he lifted her wrist and pressed a kiss to the soft skin on the inside. "Goodbye, Phoebe."

She flinched as though he'd slapped her and then jerked back. Her hands balled into fists as she stood there and glared at him, her body vibrating with fury.

"Goodbye?" she repeated, her eyes wide.

Kel didn't bother saying it again. Instead, he grabbed his shirt and shoes and headed for the door. But Phoebe got there before he did, staring at him, enraged.

"Goodbye?" She snarled at him and when she spoke again, her voice was disturbingly deeper. "You can't just walk away like this, Kel. Damn it, you need me. Don't you remember how fucked up you were before you found me? I made you live again."

In a soft, quiet voice, he said, "Phoebe, don't do this."

He saw the intent in her eyes and didn't bother to move away. Unintentionally or not, he'd hurt her. Somehow, he'd given her reason to think there could ever be anything more between them. So when she struck out and slashed her hand down his chest, he stood there and let her.

Rage was taking control of her, evidenced by the fact that her nails were no longer nails-more like short, wickedly sharp claws, sharp enough that she tore flesh and drew blood. It trickled unchecked down his chest and abdomen and he watched as her gaze dropped low, eying his bloodied chest with greed.

"You need this. We need it." Phoebe licked her lips and reached for him. "You need me, Kel...admit it."

He caught her wrists and held her back when she would have pressed her mouth to his chest. "I can't tell you what you want to hear from me, Phoebe. I can't give it to you."

Her body shuddered. Her head dropped. Kel didn't let her go though. The air around her rippled and a powerful sense of foreboding washed over him.

She threw her head back and when she stared at him, her eyes had gone black. Black and pupilless in her pretty, elfin face and as he stared at her, she started to shift. Changing under his hands. Smooth, soft skin rippled, almost like it was melting-then it stiffened, expanded and short thick hair spread across her flesh. He could hear her bones cracking as they realigned.

She grew, her slim form becoming large, bulky until she stood tall enough to stare him square in the eye. It was a quick shift, although the seconds seemed to tick by in slow, unending agony for Kel.

He let her go but didn't back away as the shift completed. Kel hadn't seen her shift before and for most, the big, hulking brute of a wolf-creature standing so close would probably be as intimidating as hell.

But all Kel felt was guilt and a faint sense of self -censure. Partly for not recognizing just how fragile Phoebe's state of mind was. And partly for not realizing he'd been running this risk and not even thinking twice about it.

She cocked her head and stared at him. Her face looked like a badly rendered version of a Hollywood movie monster. But then, werewolves in this form weren't the prettiest creatures in his experience. She breathed out and her breath whispered over him in a scalding hot caress.

She lifted a hand, reached out, touched his chest, but it wasn't with the intent to hurt. Kel would have been happier if she had.

He reached up and caught her wrist yet again. "I'm not into the furry sex scene, Phoebe."

"You need me."

Even in that deeper, growling voice, he would have to be deaf not to hear the plea. Even in her altered form, he'd have to be blind not to see the loneliness and pain in her gaze. It was so damn clear to him-now. Why hadn't he been able to see it before now?

"We're not doing this," he said, shaking his head when she eased forward. Although her body was larger, obviously more powerful, it was still clearly female, her torso covered by a pelt of short, fine fur before thickening out on her limbs.

"We aren't normal people any more, Kel. We can't have normal lives. We can't have normal things." Stroking one clawed digit down his chest, Phoebe rasped in her changed voice, "But we can have each other. We can have this."

Kel's fingers tightened around her wrist. In this form, it was easily three times as wide, probably as thick around as his own.

The fine, silky fur was incongruously soft and on the deadly black curve of her claws, he could see the remnants of the blood -red polish she loved to slick on her nails.

Keeping his voice as gentle as he could, Kel said, "But I don't want this." He eased her wrist away and she jerked back, recoiling a few steps. Her shoulders slumped, her head bowed.

She stood there, utterly dejected.

For a moment, he thought it was done.

Turning, he headed out the door, his shirt and shoes still in hand. Out in the hall, the music from the club floor was louder, more vibrant, a hard, driving beat. He'd just made it back into the club when a whisper of warning danced along his spine. Her rage flooded the air and as though the rest of the bar 's occupants sensed the rage, on the other side of the door, the music ended abruptly.

Talking ceased.

In the doorway, he stilled and turned, one hand resting on the doorjamb as he looked back. Still in the wolf-creature form, she rushed him. He evaded her first attack, dropping his shirt and shoes to the ground and turned to meet her. "I don't want to do this, Phoebe."

"Too fucking bad-you don't want to do what I want. So we do this," she snarled. Her words were thicker, even deeper than they had been moments ago. Fury wrapped around her, tainting everything.

Tainting her.

"I don't like hurting women, Phoebe," he said, keeping his voice soft and low. It was nothing more than the truth. It wasn't unavoidable but it never failed to leave him with a bad taste in his mouth.

And this was worse.

"You think you can hurt me?" she jeered. "Fucking stiff. Only been one of us for ten years... I've been this way longer than you've been alive. And you think you can hurt me?"

Kel didn't bother wasting his breath explaining something that was obvious to him. He was a Hunter. He didn't think he could hurt her. He knew he could.

Some enterprising soul apparently felt sorry for her. The guy who pushed between Phoebe and Kel was on the short side, balding, with a friendly smile. "You don't want to pick a fight with a Hunter, kid," he said. He shot Kel a nervous glance over his shoulder and then looked back at Phoebe. "Nothing but trouble doing that."

Phoebe snarled at him and struck out, attempting to knock him back. "Mind your own business." She went around him and the good Samaritan gave her a faintly pitying look before melting back into the background.

Stalking up to him, she moved to strike again. As before, he slid away, sidestepping and moving around until he was behind her. She snarled, spun to face him, struck again. One obsidian claw caught his bare shoulder and once more, the scent of his own blood filled his nostrils.

It was enough to piss him off, but he still couldn't move past the bitter regret and guilt choking him. "Phoebe, this isn't you. The full moon's too close," he said, although he didn't entirely believe it. "You're letting it cloud things for you."

Her lips peeled back from her teeth, revealing a long, jagged line of teeth that bore no resemblance to anything human. "How would you know? You only want to be with me long enough to fuck me."

If he'd still been human, he would have blushed. As it was, several eyes slanted his way and he could feel it, it was enough to have his skin crawling with embarrassment. "I never made you think there could be anything more than that," he said, shaking his head.

Phoebe growled. Slowly, she sank to the floor and crouched there but it was no way a good sign. He could see it, the slow, smooth coiling of her muscles. He braced himself.

When she lunged this time, he didn't move out of the way. He reached out, caught her by the throat and lifted her until her feet left the ground. Her furred body arched, contorted. She spat and snarled, clawed at his hands.

Something inside him unfurled. That dreaded, hated part of him. It wasn't strong yet and Kel hated to think what it would be like when it was strong. It was fear-but not his own. A nasty little magic trick, as far as he was concerned, something that let him use fear to cow those around him and he despised it. It rolled out of him and his peripheral vision revealed the effect as many of those gathered around them automatically fell back a few feet.

Not all of them. But enough.

It hit Phoebe full force and she whimpered, cried. As her rage dissolved into fear, her body started to shift. Kel 's self-disgust escalated and he lowered her to her feet, letting go.

By the time her shift was complete, he was a good five feet away. He focused, dragged his shields back up, forcing the dangerous, deadly weapon of fear back into submission. "We're not doing this," he said quietly.

It didn't matter. Every damn person in the joint had the same super-sensitive hearing that he and Phoebe did.

Phoebe stood there, her arms wrapped around her naked, trembling body. Sighing, Kel searched the floor for his shirt and then moved to grab it. The people standing near it fell back away from him. He paused, swore under his breath and then grabbed the shirt, carried it over to Phoebe. She stared at him with wide, dark eyes set in a face still pale with fear. Gently, he draped it over her shoulders and eased her arms into the sleeves, buttoning enough of the buttons so that it would stay closed.

"Go upstairs. Lay down," he suggested, dipping his head so he could whisper the words into her ear. "You don't love me, Phoebe. You don't really even need me...you just want to think you do."

She sobbed and tore away, glaring at him. "You can't tell me what I feel, Hunter. You can make me scared, but you can't make me not love you."

Darting into the crowd, she lost herself among the throng.

Closing his eyes, Kel muttered, "Shit."

The silence in the club was deafening and when he opened his eyes, he found every soul in the joint was still staring at him. He saw a range of emotions, running the gamut from derision to pity...and fear. He still saw the fear. It wasn't as prevalent as it had been before he sucked it back inside, but some of them were still feeling the effects.

Swearing, he turned on his heel, heading for the back of the club, and the exit that opened up onto an alley. The people behind him flinched as one and that didn't help his state of mind any. Ugly words boiled up his throat, but he kept them locked behind his teeth.

He'd made enough of an ass of himself tonight already.

"Hey, kid."

That low, raspy voice was the last one he wanted to hear and he would have just kept right on walking if Toronto hadn't been between him and the door. The shape-shifter was an enigmatic bastard, with pale, pale blue eyes, so pale they appeared colorless and white-blond hair that a lot of people would pay money for. It fell past his shoulders when it was loose. Tonight he had it pulled back from his face, revealing a face that probably made women sigh. A series of platinum hoops and studs pierced his left ear and they caught the light as he cocked his head and studied Kel's face.

The sympathy in the shifter's gaze made something inside Kel go hot with fury. Toronto had gotten this weird idea in his head that he needed to look out for Kel-even when Kel started to slide out of his downward spiral, Toronto kept sticking his pretty face in where it didn't need to be.

"Get out of my way," he rasped. He was edgy, jumpy. The hunger he'd slaked earlier was back, like he hadn't fed in days, weeks. All brought on by vampiric instincts that Kel wished he didn't possess.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Kel," Toronto said quietly. "Not a damn thing." He slid his colorless gaze over the people in the bar who pretended not to watch them, pretended not to notice they were still there.

Fear colored almost every single one of them. The only ones who didn't seemed affected were a couple of the bartenders, the bouncer at the front door and a few random patrons.

Kel knew from experience the rest of the people there would carry the fading remnants of that fear for hours. Even after he was gone, they'd feel it.

"Maybe not, but I sure as hell haven't done anything right, either."

Toronto lifted a brow. "You sure? She attacked you. You would have been in your rights to fight back. The rules of the human world don't apply here."

Kel shook his head. "Just leave me the hell alone, Toronto. Okay?" Shoving past the shifter, he left the bar, escaping into the relative silence of the backstreet alley. Cool air kissed his chilled flesh and he glanced down, stared at the long furrows still marking his chest. They were mostly healed already and the blood on his skin had dried.

His feet were bare, he had blood on his chest and the woman he'd been sleeping with for the past year had attacked him.

"Shit. What a life."

Although it had been a late night, Angel found herself wide awake before it was even three a.m. She came awake on a harsh breath, a tearing pain across her chest, tears stinging her eyes...and the faintest sense of self-disgust rolling through her.

Groaning, she rolled to the side of the bed and covered her face with her hands. She had a nasty, cloying taste in the back of her mouth-the bitter tang of guilt.

Over what, she had no clue.

She felt like she'd...done something.

Hurt somebody.

Damn it, it felt sometimes like she was living some alternate life she was totally unaware of. A life that some part of her subconscious remembered...a life her subconscious wanted to punish her for.

Scrambling out of the bed, she stumbled over to the window and shoved it up. The cool, scented air of a spring night came drifting through. She could hear the call of birds and insects and beyond that, it was quiet.

After she'd finally graduated from college, a year late thanks to her walk on the less -than-sane side of life, she'd bought this tract of land and the farmhouse just because it was secluded, and because it was relatively close to town and she could get to Jake's place in under twenty minutes.