Fever by Maya Banks

identical scrapes there, blood slick on her skin. It cemented the denim to her legs,
    which was freezing on her.
    Tears pricked her eyelids. How could Jack have done it? Her vision blurred and she sucked in her
    breath, determined to make it the last block to the shelter. Even if they could only offer her refuge for
    an hour, a place to warm up, clean her scrapes and rest her bruised body, it would be enough.
    She had no money. She had nothing at all. The cash she’d so carefully hoarded was gone. Jack
    owed some very nasty people and they’d come to collect. From her . While she’d lain, stunned, on the
    icy ground, they’d yanked the bills from her pocket. One had kicked her in the side and then they’d left
    her with a sharp reminder that Jack owed them a lot more and she had a week to come up with it.
    She bit her lips as more tears threatened. She was exhausted. She was sick to her soul. She was
    hurting and so cold and hungry that she just wanted to curl up and die.
    Relief made her weak when she reached the door of the shelter. For a moment, she was afraid to
    walk in because if she was turned away she wasn’t sure she had the strength to walk back out again.
    Closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath, she put her hand out and pushed open the door.
    She was immediately hit by a warm blast of air that felt so good that she went weak and nearly
    wilted on the spot. It hadn’t been this warm the last time she’d come. The heat hadn’t been working.
    Inside, she could hear the sounds of the other women. They sounded almost . . . happy . And
    shelters weren’t generally happy places. Tantalizing aromas wafted through her nostrils. She inhaled
    and her stomach growled. Whatever they were eating smelled wonderful.
    She took a hesitant step, allowing the door to close behind her. The warmth was so welcome that
    for the longest time she couldn’t move as feeling started to return to her hands and feet. It was
    welcome and very unwelcome all at the same time because with that feeling came pain.
    “Bethany, is that you, dear?”
    Bethany’s head popped up, her brow furrowing. She hadn’t ever given her name here, had she? She
    searched her memory but couldn’t place whether she’d ever told the volunteer anything.
    But she nodded, not wanting to do anything to lessen her chances of being able to stay.
    “What on earth happened?”
    The volunteer gasped when she approached Bethany and Bethany winced at the woman’s
    expression.
    “I’m okay,” Bethany said in a low voice. “I just fell. I was hoping . . .” Her throat threatened to
    close in on her. “I was hoping there was room for me tonight.” Even as she finished, she braced
    herself for rejection, unable to bear the thought.
    “Of course there is, child. Come and sit down. I’ll get you a cup of hot cocoa and you can eat as
    soon as you warm up.”
    Relief was staggering. It swept through her body, nearly toppling her where she stood. Bethany saw
    warmth and kindness in the woman’s eyes and she relaxed as euphoria set in. They had room for her
    tonight! She would have a warm place to sleep. And food! It was enough to make her want to weep.
    She trudged after the volunteer and frowned as she took in the occupants. There seemed to be more
    women today than there had been the last time Bethany had come seeking shelter. And there hadn’t
    been room for her then. Had they expanded? Gotten more beds?
    “I’m Kate,” the woman said just as she stopped by a chair pulled off to the side of the others.
    “Have a seat right here. I’ll get your cocoa and then we’ll work on getting you something to eat.
    You’ll need to have those cuts looked at.”
    “Thank you, Kate,” Bethany said huskily. “I really appreciate this.”
    Kate urged her down and then patted her on the hand. “I’ll be right back. Everything is going to be
    all right, honey.”
    Perplexed by the strange promise, Bethany sank into the chair and promptly sagged, all her