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When Zach accepted the hand she'd extended in a gesture of automatic politeness, the heat of him seared through her skin to burn her on the inside. She felt her breath catch and knew she was going even redder. Dear God, she was useless around beautiful men. And "Uncle" Zach was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.
He was also staring at her. Probably at her always messy knot of hair, her bright red cheeks, her mortified brown eyes. Tugging at her hand, she tried to extract it. He held on as he glanced at Bryan. His nephew continued to sit there with a mutinous expression on his face. Seeing their clasped hands, he favored his uncle with a look that shouted "traitor."
Zach returned his attention to Annie. "Tell me what happened."
"Could you—" She tugged at her hand again.
He looked down, seemed to consider it, then finally let go. Fingers tingling in sensory memory, she quickly moved to busy herself tidying the stack of book reports on her desk. "If you'd like to take a seat?" He towered over her. That wasn't particularly difficult, but he was big in a very intimidating way. Solid shoulders, pure hard muscle and lean strength. A soldier, she thought, aware of some of the ranks within the DarkRiver pack, Zach had to carry the rank of soldier.
"I'd rather stand."
"All right." She didn't sit either. It didn't give her much of an advantage—or any advantage if she was being honest—but if she sat down with him looming all big and intense over her, she'd probably lose the power of speech. "Bryan punched a classmate during last period. He refuses to tell me what caused the incident."
"I see." Zach frowned. "Why isn't the other boy here?"
She wondered if he thought she was playing favorites. "Morgan is in the sick bay. He's rather . . . delicate."
Zach raised an eyebrow. "Delicate?"
She wanted to glare at him herself. He knew perfectly well what she was talking about. "Morgan gets sick very easily." And had a mother who treated him as if he was made of spun glass. Given that the same thing had driven Annie insane as a child, she might've tried to talk to Mrs. Ainslow about it, except that it was obvious Morgan liked the fussing. "He was too upset to stay near Bryan, though I would've preferred to talk to them together."
"Human?" Zach asked.
"No," she said, trying not to feel too satisfied by his look of surprise. "Swan."
"Swans aren't predators"—which, Annie knew, was why Morgan's family had been allowed to stay in DarkRiver territory—"but they're not exactly weak."
"While all humans are?" she was irritated enough to say.
He raised an eyebrow. "Did I say that, sweetheart?"
Her face heated from the inside out. "I am Bryan's teacher."
"Not mine." A grin. "You could be though. Wanna play classroom, Teach?"
She dealt with DarkRiver cats throughout the year, but for the most part, they were mated pairs, or couples in long-term relationships. She had no clue how to handle a teasing male who was clearly not only aware of the effect he had on her but confident enough to take advantage. Focus on the facts, she told herself, just focus. "Bryan is normally very good." He was, in truth, one of her best students. "He's kind, intelligent, and before today, he's never once hurt a classmate."
Zach's expression turned serious. "Strength is for protecting, not hurting. Bryan knows that as well as anybody in the pack."
Annie's heart clutched at the absolute way he said that, as if it was simply a fact of life. That core of unflinching honor was one
of the things she most admired about the DarkRiver males she'd met. The other was the way they didn't make even the slightest attempt to hide the adoration they felt for their mates. It was . . . nice.
It was also yet another point of contention between her and her mother. Professor Kimberly Kildaire had very determined views on what men should be like. The word "civilized" appeared often in the description, along with generous helpings of "rational"—a man who teased with sensual ease was far too wild to ever make the professor's cut.
However, Annie knew her own mind, and her reaction to Zach was anything but rational. "That's why," she said, forcing herself to think past the nerves that threatened to turn her mute, "I was so surprised by what he did. Frankly, I have no idea what could've caused it. Morgan and Bryan don't even tend to play together."
"Give me a couple of minutes with him." With a nod, he walked to his nephew. "Come on, Jumping Bean, let's talk."
"Over there." Bryan got up and led his uncle to the back of the classroom. Annie looked away out of politeness, knowing she wouldn't have been able to hear the conversation even if they hadn't moved—changeling hearing was generally far more acute than a human's. But, and though she tried to keep her eyes on the book reports, her curiosity got the better of her.
She looked up to see Zach crouched in front of Bryan, his arms braced loosely on his knees. The position had raised the sleeve of his T-shirt to expose part of a tattoo on his right biceps. She squinted. It was something exotic and curved, something that beckoned her to stroke. Thankfully, before she could surrender to the urge to get closer, Bryan began to gesture so earnestly, she wondered what on earth he was saying.
"I didn't even hit him that hard, Uncle Zach." Bryan blew out a breath that made his dark brown bangs dance. "He's a sissy."
"Bryan."
"I mean he's 'delicate,' " Bryan said, proving he had very big ears. "He's always crying, even when nobody does any-thing on purpose. He cried yesterday when Holly elbowed him by accident."
