The house was too still. Not a single dirty dish in the kitchen. Shower was bone dry. A fine layer of dust laid on the counter top. Everything inside was settled. Nothing had been moved for at least a week. Riddick stood in what had been Jack's room, thinking.

Trying to think really. Mostly he was breathing deep and contemplating jerking it.

There were a couple of possibilities.

1) They could be in hiding. They knew he was coming - Jack knew he was coming - and they booked it with her the minute she got there.

2) They could all have been taken - unlikely given the state of Jack's room. She would have left a sign if someone took her by force.

3) They could be somewhere close by, waiting.

His gut said three.

He didn't have long to consider, or maybe he was distracted for longer than he thought as he moved through the small room touching the things she'd touched, breathing in the scent of her. A car pulled up outside. Black paint. Black windows. Black diplomatic flags.

Huh.

When the kid stepped out, her eyes hit him like a fist. A very well-placed one. Those eyes went right to him, even in the dark, even in the shadows of the house.

Can't hide from her. For some reason that put him in a bad mood so he pushed it away. He focused on her instead.

Five foot six. Maybe a hundred and twenty pounds. Dark brown hair, like good coffee. Soft waves in it. He thought she'd be curly. She was all grown up and in the flesh. His dreams were nothing compared to the genuine article. That was the skin he ached to bruise. There was the mouth he'd cover with his own. And the long, long legs he'd spread wide...

She hesitated, like she knew what he was thinking. Like she might leave.

He took two steps forward before he finished the thought.

Someone inside the car said something. She looked back.

His whole body was tense, ready to stop her if she went to get in, but she only said, "No, you don't have to. I'll, uh, I'll call when we're done." And then she shut the car door. Her eyes found him again before she moved out of sight, into the house.

Riddick found a nice, deep patch of shadow in the corner. The car drove off, probably not too far, but far enough. The houses on either side were quiet.

Alone at last.

She was still good. All that time and she hadn't forgotten. Her steps were silent in the otherwise empty house, but he could sense her coming closer. He closed his eyes, listening, feeling her move.

She was in the foyer, edging along the wall. She came to the stairs, rolling up them like fog. She was in the hallway, ghosting past doorways and nearer to him.

He drew in a heavy, wet breath and as she rounded the corner, he was rewarded. Sandalwood, sweat, but the taint of puberty was gone. The smell of arousal had replaced it.

Had she been fucking when she got the call that he was back? Or was it for him?

She stopped in the center of her room, her eyes scanning, searching. She said softly, her voice cracking only a little, "Riddick?" Just like the canyon.

And he thought his cock hurt before.

There were things she'd forgotten about him, things she hadn't known were missing from her private memory reel. Things like the sheer size of him, a darker darkness in the black. How he took up more space than he really ought to. How he moved; the threat of him. How it felt to look up into those eyes and know...

How he could disappear in an otherwise empty room, even with his eyes, even with his mass.

How you knew he was there even if you couldn't see him. Like a monster in your closet, looming, waiting for you to close your eyes. Waiting.

He'd changed her room in Imam's house just by being in it. She could feel where he'd been, how the air currents were different because he'd passed through them. It felt occupied, and considering it was supposed to be hers - had lately been hers - that was a very uneasy sense.

Steady, Jack.

She moved to the center of the room near the foot of the bed. Her senses were all sharpened and high, waiting for a sign that might not come.

You won't even know he's there until he's on you... She cut that line of thought off where it was and called out softly. She said, "Riddick?"

The only sign she got was hot breath on her neck and he was there behind her, the heat of him pressing into her like a physical touch. She threw an elbow back and ducked away, but he grabbed her arm to keep her from going too far. She'd forgotten just how fast he could be. With an effort, she kept her breathing even and stopped herself from fighting to get away.

This is why you came here, stupid. Don't be a coward.

Their eyes were locked as she stood up inside his grasp. He kept his other hand by his side. She got the impression it was deliberate, maybe just as deliberate as her non-reaction. Was he being cautious?

When she didn't move away he let go of her arm, seemingly satisfied she wasn't going to hit him again. He leaned a little closer and took a deep breath, smelling her.

Jack fought a little harder to keep her breathing even, her heart rate down. She took it as a good sign that he hadn't fought back but she wasn't prepared for how overwhelming it would be to see him. She hadn't factored in her own response. He was beautiful. She was torn between the urge to touch him and the urge to flee.

His eyes were still fixed on her when he made a low sound in the back of his throat that did strange things to her.

She tried to step back but her heel struck something almost immediately. The bed. She hadn't realized how close they were to it, hadn't been paying attention.

He smirked at her condescendingly. "Going somewhere again?"

She swallowed against the dry feeling that had sprung up in her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. "Not unless you want me to."

"Funny. You didn't ask what I wanted last time." Anger simmered in the words, deep and hot.

"I know. I'm sorry for that."

He cocked his head at her. "But not sorry you did it."

"No," she answered firmly. "It was the right thing to do."

He made a noncommittal noise, still staring at her. She wished he'd look away. His eyes moved smoothly from her face to her hair, down her body. It made her very aware of it in a way she usually wasn't. She wanted to put some distance between them, wanted to get away from the heat of him at the very least, from the smell of him invading her space. But to do that, she'd have to sidle away or get on the bed. Neither felt like an option.

Jack found herself staring at his lips just to look away from his eyes. They seemed too soft for his face, too lush. What would they feel like on her skin? She blinked. He was watching her with an intensity she had only ever seen once or twice. She felt liquid, as though every limb were boneless.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He was tense, from head to toe, restrained

He's holding himself back, from me. A buzzing filled her ears. Dizziness rose in her like a tide. She had to go, had to get out. She went to push past him, brought both hands up to his chest and shoved, but it did nothing. He was too strong, too solid. He barely teetered before his hands were on her wrists.

He stepped closer. There hadn't been hardly a foot of space between them before and now... He said, "Jack." It was the concern in his voice that stopped her.

She shivered and held herself still until the shaking stopped. He hadn't let go of her wrists, but he hadn't done anything else either.

With surprising gentleness, he rolled his thumbs over her bones. The calluses on his fingers were rough and sent tingling sensations up her arms. The hard muscle of his chest was hot under her hands. She curled them into fists.

He said her name again. "Jack."

His eyes were still on her, still heated. She'd been stupid to touch him at all. She thought, I can't handle this. And then, Neither can he. That thought helped. She took a deep breath. He was still rubbing her arms. She said, "Riddick..."

Jack didn't hear the noise he made, she only felt it before he covered her mouth with his. She had just enough to time to realize he was moving and then it was all sensation. His lips on her lips, his hands in her hair, his body pressed against hers as she tipped back onto the bed. A startled sound escaped her.

He was everywhere, all at once - hands and skin and lips. Part of her was trying to find the best way to make him stop, and part of her was hoping she couldn't.