Breathing hard and fast as if she’d just run a mile, she darted out of a sound sleep with a terrible gut-deep sense of something wrong. Terribly wrong. She lay there beside Dax and sniffed the air. Okay … no reek of sulfur or sense of demonkind. That was good. Next she catalogued the familiar morning sights and sounds in her childhood bedroom, and everything seemed the same. Of course, she’d slept alone here as a girl. There’d been no ex-demon lover beside her. Not even in her wildest dreams. Okay, so something she couldn’t quite identify had awakened her, and it hadn’t been Dax. With sleepy eyes barely open, she gazed slowly around her old room. Nothing had changed—all was still locked in the early shadows of a gray dawn. She stretched full-length and arched her back, dismissing the weird sense of unease as a bad dream. She held the arch until her joints popped, but damn it felt good. Then she relaxed against the comfortable mattress. Thank goodness she’d been tall enough when she still lived at home to justify this king-size bed.
