As they strolled across the ancient stone battlements that rimmed the town of Canterbury, Edie was relieved that she and Caedmon had reverted to their earlier camaraderie. She wasn’t altogether certain, the male beast a difficult one to decipher, but she thought Caedmon had gotten angry back in the alleyway because he hadn’t been able to adequately safeguard her from MacFarlane’s goon. Which raised a disturbing question . . . if the goon had a gun, why didn’t he use it? Able to see in her mind’s eye a massive pair of shoulders, the scary buzz cut, and a rivulet of blood zigzagging down a throbbing temple, Edie shuddered. “Cold?” Caedmon solicitously inquired, draping an arm over her shoulder. Shoving the frightening image aside, she wordlessly snuggled closer to him. Although she couldn’t be 100 percent certain, she didn’t think that they had been followed. After hitching a ride to London, they caught a train out of Victoria Station, the trip to Canterbury taking only ninety minutes.
