Dark of the Moon. Susan Krinard

rasped. “Get out.”

      Gwen snatched up the bowl and fled the room, feeling more shaky than she had right after he had rescued her from drowning.

      Once in the bathroom, she closed the door and leaned over the sink, too dizzy to trust her balance. Her reflection in the mirror looked drawn and haggard, the result of two weeks of balancing her work at the paper with the desperate search for Dorian. Now that she’d found him, she didn’t know what do to with him.

      She didn’t know what to do with herself.

      Gwen blew out her breath and splashed water over her face, knowing it would take a lot more than a good dousing to make her forget what she’d seen and felt tonight.