The younger woman was, frankly, stunning. Her clothes hugged curves above and below a narrow waist. Her eyes flared gold above incredible cheekbones. The most amazing mane of hair framed her face.
Her clothes were pretty basic, but I figured even rags would look expensive on that body. The pack she had slung over her shoulder was high-end leather rather than canvas and showed signs of wear. Not purely decorative, apparently.
I stared at them. They stared at me.
Which was when Trix pushed past me, wiggling like a crazed thing, and planted her paws on the white-haired woman.
My apologetic owner reaction was automatic. “Trix, off! Oh, I’m so sorry. She usually has better manners than that!”
The woman petted Trix—still unrepentantly planted against her—and smiled at me.
Every bit of my anxiety just vanished. Gone. Poof. I found myself smiling like a fool back at her.
“You are Anna?” When I nodded, she continued, “My name is Cara.” She gestured to the other woman. “And this is Kitani. We are here to discuss what happened last night.”
They were? “The officer said someone might come.” I almost told them the name, but at the last second, my brain kicked in. Female or not, they had to prove themselves first.
Kitani nodded. “Jason is in Toronto. He asked us to come from Winnipeg, as we were closer.”
Okay, so they knew his name. I swallowed and grabbed Trix’s collar to pull her off Cara, then stepped back to let them in.
I wasn’t accustomed to visitors, so I had to pull the comforter off the couch and toss a few pillows to make room. “Would you like coffee?” I asked.
As if sensing my floundering progress through socially acceptable protocols, they both politely declined as they took seats on the couch. I planted myself tentatively in the armchair.
I just wanted to get this over with. “I told the officer everything I know.”
Kitani exchanged a glance with Cara and reached into her pack. She pulled out a wad of damp cloth that seemed marked with dark brown streaks.
It took me a moment to recognize my tee shirt.
“I believe this is yours.” Kitani handed it to me.
My gut twisted into an uncomfortable knot, and I opened my mouth to deny it.
Cara extended her hand. “Can I see your arms?” she asked.
Crap.My mouth snapped shut. How did she know about my arms? But the wounds were healed...
“They’re marked up. Put my arms through a window a couple of years ago.” The almost lie rolled off my tongue, but I didn’t meet her eyes.
She cocked her head. “Do you mind if I take a look?”
I swallowed.Yes.Yes, I did, and yet, I found myself extending my arms.
She took them in her hands, and the moment her fingers traced my skin, a wave of calm passed over me.
After a cursory examination in the shower last night, I’d avoided looking at them. But now, her gentle touch drew my eyes down.
Right away, I realized my window excuse wasn’t going to fly. The marks were now fully healed, but they ran in four parallel lines that crossed several times. He’d nailed me repeatedly in his efforts to break free.
Kitani exhaled. “Claws,” she breathed. Then she pushed up the long sleeves on her shirt.
I stared. Her forearms looked just like mine. Only there were a helluva lot more scars.
Cara took a deep breath and released my hands. I wrapped them around my ribs and held on. I was a breath away from losing my shit.
Cara’s eyes radiated sympathy, and when she spoke, her voice remained calm and matter-of-fact. “I examined the body of the man who attacked you.”
