...Laurel laughed. Frank was sweet, overprotective, and too intuitive for his own good. She settled on the double bed and stretched out her legs before responding. “I know I’ve been a little scattered lately. Maybe the peace and quiet up here will help me sleep better. Listen, if I do turn up anything—which I doubt I will—I’ll call you and you can meet me up here. Otherwise just think of this as my pre-term vacation and don’t worry about me. I’ll find a way to have a good time.”

Frank gave an indulgent sigh. Laurel wished she had the courage to tell him as much as she’d already told Cade Morrison, but the biochemist’s fraternal instincts would have gone into overdrive if he believed she had any more wrong with her than just insomnia caused by free-floating anxiety. “Next time you need a vacation, why don’t you go to the Bahamas like everybody else?”

“I will. In fact, as soon as I get home, I’ll make reservations for spring break.”

“That’s my girl. You need to take care of yourself. Listen, I’ve got a fax coming in from Nancy at NYU and I have to give her a call, but I’ll be up for a while. If you get lonely out there in the boonies, give me a call back, okay?”

“I’m going to turn in early…but thanks. If I need to talk, I’ll call you. I promise.”

They said their goodbyes and Laurel set her phone on the night stand next to the bed. She settled back against the thin pillows and covered her eyes with the heels of her hands.

Why was she masquerading as normal for Frank? He of all people would understand that the pressures of academic life could become overwhelming at times. He’d realize that her schedule of classes, her personal research and publishing deadlines, as well as her mounting faculty responsibilities played a large part in driving up her stress levels. More stress meant less sleep and less ability to focus, which led to the daydreams and the disconnected feeling that had plagued her since that first, terrifying vision three months ago. Scary as it was, it all added up, really. Even her therapist had said strange dreams and loss of connection to the world around her were very common responses to an increased work load and the false perception that she somehow wasn’t measuring up to the expectations of her colleagues.

Any girlfriend would tell her lack of sex was probably more to blame than anything else. When she’d signed on full time at the university after graduation, she’d stopped dating. There just wasn’t time for it, and she’d never been interested in casual sex, as if the alternative was formal sex of some kind.

Laurel figured there’d be time for a relationship someday, time for long walks, candlelit dinners, and bouquets of flowers delivered to her tiny office on her birthday. One day she’d set up house with someone who shared her tastes and her work schedule. They’d buy a puppy to take the place of the children she knew she’d never be able to handle.

That had been her dream.

Now when she closed her eyes, instead of a trendy off-campus apartment with a queen-sized feather bed and walls covered with book shelves, she saw something raw and erotic.

The visions came with the scent of sex and the sharp intake of breath that accompanied the feral thrust of a cock between her legs. Instead of lounging on a Sunday morning reading the latest journals with a man she’d playfully call “professor,” she saw herself clutched in the dark- skinned arms of a winged beast. She saw golden eyes and upswept brows and long fingered hands that delved between her ass cheeks and pinched her nipples. She felt his tongue, hot and wet on the skin beneath her ear, felt massive thighs part hers and heard her own voice plead with him for release.

What frightened her most about the visions and the dreams was that she wasn’t fighting to get away from the monster. She was clutching his muscular body to hers, arching her needy sex against him and urging him to fuck her. She was ravenous for it, for the scrape of sharp teeth over her breasts, the slap of heavy balls against her ass and a panting, gasping orgasm that left her breathless and trembling. And always alone.