"It was holding him. He couldn't get away." Cal sat on the floor, the dog's head in his lap. "He couldn't get away. It was going to bury him in the snow. A stupid, harmless dog."

"Has this happened before?" Quinn asked him. "Has it gone after animals this way?"

"A few weeks before the Seven, animals might drown, or there's more roadkill. Sometimes pets turn mean. But not like this. This was-"

"A demonstration." Cybil tucked the blanket more securely around Quinn's feet. "He wanted us to see what he could do."

"Maybe wanted to see what we could do," Gage countered, and earned a speculative glance from Cybil.

"That may be more accurate. That may be more to the point. Could we break the hold? A dog's not a person, has to be easier to control. No offense, Cal, but your dog's brainpower isn't as high as most toddlers'."

Gently, affectionately, Cal pulled on one of Lump's floppy ears. "He's thick as a brick."

"So it was showing off. It hurt this poor dog for sport." Layla knelt down and stroked Lump's side. "That deserves some payback."

Intrigued, Quinn cocked her head. "What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know yet, but it's something to think about."

CHAPTER Eighteen

CAL DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TIME THEY'D FALLENinto bed. But when he opened his eyes the thin winter light eked through the window. Through it, he saw the snow was still falling in the perfect, fat, white flakes of a Hollywood Christmas movie.

In the hush only a snowfall could create was steady and somehow satisfied snoring. It came from Lump, who was stretched over the foot of the bed like a canine blanket. That was something Cal generally discouraged, but right now, the sound, the weight, the warmth were exactly right.

From now on, he determined, the damn dog was going everywhere with him.

Because his foot and ankle were currently under the bulk of the dog, Cal shifted to pull free. The movement had Quinn stirring, giving a little sigh as she wiggled closer and managed to wedge her leg between his. She wore flannel, which shouldn't have been remotely sexy, and she'd managed to pin his arm during the night so it was now alive with needles and pins. And that should've been, at least mildly, annoying.

Instead, it was exactly right, too.

Since it was, since they were cuddled up together in bed with Hollywood snow falling outside the window, he couldn't think of a single reason not to take advantage of it.

Smiling, he slid a hand under her T-shirt, over warm, smooth flesh. When he cupped her breast he felt her heart beat under his palm, slow and steady as Lump's snoring. He stroked, a lazy play of fingertips as he watched her face. Lightly, gently, he teased her nipple, arousing himself as he imagined taking it into his mouth, sliding his tongue over her.

She sighed again.

He trailed his hand down, tracing those fingertips over her belly, under the flannel to skim down her thigh. Up again. Down, then up, a whispering touch that eased closer, closer to her center.

And the sound she made in sleep was soft and helpless.

She was wet when he brushed over her, hot when he dipped inside her. When he pressed, he lowered his mouth to hers to take her gasp.

She came as she woke, her body simply erupting as her mind leaped out of sleep and into shock and pleasure.

"Oh God!"

"Shh." He laughed against her lips. "You'll wake the dog."

He tugged down her pants as he rolled. Before she could clear her mind, he pinned her, and he filled her.

"Oh. Well. Jesus." The words hitched and shook. "Good morning."

He laughed again, and bracing himself, set a slow and torturous pace. She fought to match it, to hold back and take that slow climb with him, but it flashed through her again, and flung her up.

"God. God. God. I don't think I can-"

"Shh, shh," he repeated, and brought his mouth down to toy with hers. "I'll go slow," he whispered. "You just go."

She could do nothing else. Her system was already wrecked, her body already his. Utterly his. When he took her up again, she was too breathless to cry out.

THOROUGHLY PLEASURED, THOROUGHLY USED,Quinn lay under Cal's weight. He'd eased down so that his head rested between her breasts, and she could play with his hair. She imagined it was some faraway Sunday morning where they had nothing more pressing to worry about than if they'd make love again before breakfast, or make love after.

"Do you take some kind of special vitamin?" she wondered.

"Hmm?"

"I mean, you've got some pretty impressive stamina going for you."

She felt his lips curve against her. "Just clean living, Blondie."

"Maybe it's the bowling. Maybe bowling...Where's Lump?"

"He got embarrassed about halfway through the show." Cal turned his head, gestured. "Over there."

Quinn looked, saw the dog on the floor, his face wedged in the corner. She laughed till her sides ached. "We embarrassed the dog. That's a first for me. God! I feel good. How can I feel so good after last night?" Then she shook her head, stretched up her arms before wrapping them around Cal. "I guess that's the point, isn't it? Even in a world gone to hell, there's still this."

"Yeah." He sat up then, reached down to brush her tumbled hair as he studied her. "Quinn." He took her hand now, played with her fingers.

"Cal," she said, imitating his serious tone.

"You crawled through a blizzard to help save my dog."

"He's a good dog. Anyone would have done the same."

"No. You're not naive enough to think that. Fox and Gage, yeah. For the dog, and for me. Layla and Cybil, maybe. Maybe it was being caught in the moment, or maybe they're built that way."

She touched his face, skimmed her fingers under those patient gray eyes. "No one was going to leave that dog out there, Cal."

"Then I'd say that dog is pretty lucky to have people like you around. So am I. You crawled through the snow, toward that thing. You dug in the snow with your bare hands."

"If you're trying to make a hero out of me...Go ahead," she decided. "I think I like the fit."

"You whistled with your fingers."