Arctic Bite

by N. J. Walters

  And it was. She could see it in his face. He was simply happy to be with her. What an amazing gift. In her very long life, no one had made her feel so special.

  “We should make plans.” That would be the smart thing to do, but he continued to run his fingers through her hair, thoroughly distracting her. “Alexei.”

  His big body shuddered. “I love it when you say my name.”

  Her heart skipped a beat when he said the “L” word. “Alexei,” she repeated, wanting to give him as much of herself as she could.

  “Cassie,” he whispered.

  “Cassandra.” Her real name tumbled from her lips.

  “Cassandra Dobbs.”

  “No, the last name is made up. I’m simply Cassandra.” All of them only had a single name. There was no need for anything more. There were no true bonds of affection, no real kinship or laughter. There was only the job.

  Rolling over, he took her with him, so she was on her back with him looming over her. He leaned down until their foreheads were touching. “You aren’t simply anything. You’re the most amazing woman in the entire world.”

  Wow, he might not say much, but when he did it was really special. “Thank you,” she managed to get past the lump in her throat.

  He stretched out on the mattress beside her and raised one arm. Not needing any more coaxing than that, she rested her head on his chest, sighing with pleasure when his arm came around her.

  “I thought you wanted, you know, sex?” She’d figured that was a no-brainer when he’d carried her into the bedroom.

  “I do, but we can talk first.”

  She levered herself up, ignoring the annoyed grunt he gave when she moved away from him. “You? You want to talk?”

  “I like talking.” She gave him an incredulous look. “Sometimes,” he qualified. “What do you want out of life?”

  “To stay alive.” The stark reality descended upon her.

  He patted her shoulder, and she lay back down. It was easier to talk when she couldn’t really see him. She placed her hand on his chest, calmed by the slow and steady thump of his heart.

  “What do you dream?” The rumble from his chest penetrated her cheek. With his arm around her and his big body radiating heat, she was toasty warm.

  For the time being, at least, she was safe.

  “We don’t have dreams. We have work.”

  “That’s sad.”

  She traced her finger over his bare chest, drawing patterns. “It really wasn’t, not for a long time. Reaping was all that mattered. Until it was no longer enough.”

  Just saying that seemed like a betrayal. They might not have the kind of relationships that humans and other paranormal creatures had, but they were family. A dysfunctional one, as most reapers wouldn’t even think in those terms since they didn’t really share a blood bond. They’d all been created by Death. But in her time here, she’d learned there was more to family than simply blood. There was commitment and choice and sacrifice.

  “What do you dream?” she asked, curious to know what he yearned for. He went very still. Did his hold on her tighten? Hard to tell since she was already so close.

  “I want what most men want. A family. That special someone to share it with.”

  “You don’t have anyone?” She’d assumed he didn’t. That was always a mistake. He could have a wife and ten kids for all she knew. Even thinking it was wrong somehow. He seemed too alone.

  “My parents are both gone. So are my brother and his family.”

  Her heart clutched and sorrow filled her. “I’m so sorry. If it’s a consolation, they would have been taken to the appropriate afterlife. I’ve never personally been there.” And she’d never asked to see any afterlife, had never been interested. In hindsight, that was a huge oversight on her part. She basically showed the dead the way and the rest was up to them. It was someone else’s job to process and acclimate them to their new reality.

  “Then how do you know for sure?”

  “I don’t know. I have faith.” And surprisingly, she did. Even now.

  The chuff he gave ruffled her hair and vibrated through her. “Faith. I’m not sure I have that. Not anymore.”

  There was a story here. More than what he was sharing. “How did you become a member of the Brotherhood? Your kind isn’t immortal. Long-lived, sure, but not like some others.” While they usually lived significantly longer than mortals, they did die.

  She bolted upright. How had she allowed this small fact to escape her?

  Alexei was no normal polar shifter, not if he was part of such a powerful and elusive group. It was said they were all unique in some way. Different. It was also whispered they were immortal, would live forever. Maybe that was true for some of them. Maybe not. She had no idea.

  But he was no ordinary assassin. He was part of the most dangerous group in existence. “Damian could have been a member of the Brotherhood.” It made more sense since the undead could live for hundreds, even thousands, of years.

  “No, he couldn’t. He was sloppy and lazy and none too smart.” His words were clipped, his tone hard and low. “And I’m—” He paused. “I’m different.” He turned away and stared at the wall.

  She’d clearly hit a sore spot.

  “I’m sorry.” Sorry for upsetting him, she placed her hand on his arm. It went tense beneath her palm, but he didn’t shrug her off.

  “Not your fault.”

  She couldn’t let this go. It was too important, to both of them. “How old are you?”

  He gave a negligent shrug. “Not completely sure. Over two hundred. Probably closer to two hundred and twenty-five.” He looked back at her. “My folks have been gone for a very long time.”

  “And you’ve been alone?”

  He gave a curt nod.

  Of course he’d been alone. Any species or group were suspicious of and often shunned those that deviated from the norm. “Were your parents from different species?” Maybe that had caused him to be so long-lived. Genetics could be odd if two different shifter species had mated and produced a child.

  “No. They were both polars.”

  Sometimes a person was born with some kind of genetic anomaly—for better or worse. It occurred in every species. Nature sometimes made a miraculous surge forward or a giant leap back.

  “Will you tell me about it?” It wasn’t fair of her to ask, since she wasn’t rushing to share her tale, but she was driven to understand this man who’d claimed a piece of her heart.

  “Tell me your dreams first.”

  If she wanted him to open up, she was going to have to do it first. That seemed fair, if downright scary. “I never really had a life.”

  Alexei settled back against the headboard. Instead of cuddling up next to him, she crossed her legs and sat tailor-style on the bed beside him, pulling the tail of his long shirt over her legs. He gave her his complete attention. Something he always seemed to do.

  “I told you, it was all work. It was enough until it wasn’t.” He nodded in understanding but stayed silent for a long moment before cupping her cheek. She turned her face into the gentle caress.

  “What is it you really want?” He skimmed his thumb over her lips before placing his hand over her heart. “Here.”

  “To live.” Like a dam bursting, it all came pouring out of her. “To experience joy and sorrow. To laugh and cry. To laze on the beach without having to worry if someone dies. To eat. We don’t need food, did I mention that?”

  Not waiting to see his response, she kept on going, unable to stop now that she’d started. “The first time I got hungry, I was shocked. The longer I’m here, the more I change. My first trip to the grocery store was a revelation. I had no idea what most of it was. It was trial and error. Brussels sprouts?” She screwed up her nose. “I don’t care if they’re good for me, I’m never eating them again. But then
I discovered chocolate, oh, and pizza. Yum.” The sound that slipped from her lips was one of pure pleasure.

  A small smile played at the corners of his lips. “I take it you liked it.”

  “No, I loved it. Everything was so vibrant and immediate.” How could she make him understand? “It was as though everything had been muted, in black and white, my whole life. Suddenly it was all in vivid color with surround sound. It was overwhelming and mind-blowing.”

  His eyes darkened with something akin to pity, but his attention never wavered. “You lived in different places?”

  “Yes, I was in South America for a while. We prefer more moderate temperatures, but we love the heat.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  Good question. “I think we’re cold because we lack emotion and it shows up in our physical forms. I mean, we don’t really feel a temperature change, not when we’re at full power. But we’re still not fond of it.”

  “Is that why you came up north?”

  “Partly. Less populated areas, less chance of anyone just popping in to look around.” She scooted closer, needing his warmth. All this talk about her past was turning her insides to ice.

  “What else?” he prompted.

  It would be easy to believe he was pumping her for information, but she didn’t think so.

  Maybe all this was a ruse on his part—he was one of the most dangerous men in the world—but she was past the point of honestly caring.

  “I wanted to have a relationship with someone, but I was too afraid.”

  “You thought you might harm them.” His assessment was blunt but accurate.

  “Yes.” She pointed at herself. “It’s my job to guide a person away from their body. Sometimes that means draining the last of their energetic attachment to their physical form.”

  “But you didn’t worry about that with me.”

  Was he pissed off? Hard to tell since he was back to being inscrutable. “Yes. No. I worried.” This was so awkward. “I was attracted to you, okay? When I found out what you were, I thought that I could risk it.” And boy, did that sound lame.

  “So you’d have slept with the first shifter you came across? Anyone would have done?” He crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off to her, physically and emotionally. It was as though he’d shut some invisible door, leaving her on the outside in the cold once again.

  But the chill was driven back by the volcanic heat of her temper. “No.” Her voice was sharp. “Anyone would not have done. Don’t you think I’ve come across others?” That would give him something to think about. Served him right.

  A low growl rumbled up from deep inside him, the sound threatening. “Polar?”

  “No.” She jumped off the bed and paced in the small space. “There was a jaguar shifter in Peru, a grizzly in British Columbia. Oh, and let’s not forget the werewolf I crossed paths with in Oregon.” Pausing at the end of the bed, she pinned him with a furious glare. How dare he even suggest such a thing?

  “I could have made advances to any of them.” She marched up to the side of the bed and glared at him. Baiting the bear, she poked him in the chest. “But. I. Didn’t. Know why?”

  He shook his head, making his thick mane of hair dance around. I will not get distracted. Not easy. He was so bloody handsome and adorable. Not that she’d tell him that.

  “Because none of them were you, you idiot.” His eyes widened and she poked him again for good measure.

  He seized her wrist and gave a quick tug, tumbling her onto his lap. “And quit doing that,” she demanded. “Stop using your brute strength against me.” Okay, so that wasn’t fair. He was always careful with her. He was simply too fast for her to react when he did things like that.

  And now she was in his lap, a position she seemed to be finding herself in with some regularity.

  She gave him full honesty. “For the first time, I was willing to take a chance. I wouldn’t have gone through with it if I’d thought for one second I was draining your life force.” It was important he understood that.

  He stared into her eyes. She waited nervously for him to say something. Anything.

  “Idiot?”

  Chapter Eleven

  She’d called him an idiot. The insult made him want to laugh. Maybe it was the expression of outrage on her face or the cute way she tried to drill her finger through him. She hadn’t been tempted by other shifters, only by him.

  A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth, but he managed to contain it. He might not always get women, but even he understood enough not to smile or laugh when she was so worked up.

  She might kick his ass if he did.

  Watching her rant, her breasts heaving and her cheeks flushed, was a huge turn-on.

  She was smart and strong and passionate.

  She’d be a perfect mate for him, someone who could stand by his side.

  Some of his humor fled. That was only a dream as long as she was being hunted. He didn’t know how to protect her, or even if those after her could be destroyed. It wasn’t something he’d ever come across before. None of the members of the Brotherhood had, at least not to his knowledge.

  They shared general information with one another, but not everything, especially not about their own kind. None of them were that stupid. It would give a huge advantage to another powerful immortal, one who might be called on to put you down if you went rogue.

  “That’s what you got out of everything I just said?” she demanded. “That I called you an idiot? Idiot,” she muttered again.

  He couldn’t help himself. His lips twitched. She saw it, and her eyes narrowed. “No, I heard it all,” he assured her.

  “And it amuses you?”

  “It makes me happy that you care.” Like him, his words were simple and straightforward.

  She sighed, seemingly exasperated. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Stay with me.” Easy enough. It was probably too soon, at least for her, but he wanted her with him—to sleep with every night, to wake with every day, to laugh and spend time with. He’d never thought it was possible until he’d met her.

  While she knew he was different, he hadn’t shared everything. And that was the way it was going to stay, at least until the threat to her had been eliminated.

  “It’s not that easy,” she began. To cut off any further objection, he kissed her.

  She tasted like sunshine, like hot summer nights on the beach and cold winter days snuggled in front of the fire. And she smelled delicious. He’d intended to ask her why she always smelled like flowers.

  Maybe it was a reaper thing.

  Making a sound of exasperation, she dove headfirst into the heated embrace. God, she was something. Her tongue tangled with his, taking and giving. Every time was better than the last.

  The sharp bite of her nails stung his biceps. Urgency driving them both, he pulled her closer, loving the way her breasts pillowed against his chest, the way her stomach cradled his erection.

  He traced the features of her face—her pert nose, her high cheekbones, her slightly pointed chin. Taken apart, her features were nothing special. Only they were. Cassie was unique, a one-of-a-kind miracle. And she was his.

  Slipping his hand under the shirt she wore, he smoothed his hand up and down her supple spine.

  He wanted to rip the garment away and love her so hard and deep, she would never forget him. But mostly, he wanted to entice her to stay with him. Forever.

  When they finally came up for air, she licked her lips, like she would after having some decadent treat, maybe the chocolate or pizza she said she loved.

  It was enough to drive him crazy and imagine that sweet mouth on other parts of his body. His cock jerked against her stomach, ready and rearing to go.

  “I’m sorry I called you an idiot.”

  There was a twi
nkle in her eyes that belied that statement. “Are you? Really?” Even hard and hurting, he found humor in the situation.

  Her answering smile brightened her face. “No, but it seemed like the thing to say.”

  His lips twitched. Pretending innocence, she batted her eyelashes. He loved this mischievous side of her. Bears loved to play, and he so seldom indulged, and certainly not while anyone else was around. His darker side tended to dampen his playful spirit.

  But Cassie ignited it.

  He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. She resembled a mischievous sprite with her short, spiky black hair and brilliant green eyes. She seemed so pleased with herself that he laughed even harder.

  Some of the tension that had been pressing down on him fell away. It was momentary, but life was unpredictable. Best to take advantage of it and appreciate the good things that came his way.

  “Bet you think you’re clever?” He gave a mock growl.

  She gave a solemn nod, but then her pleasure faded. “Not so clever considering the mess I’m in.”

  As much as he wanted to make love to her, they needed to come up with a plan. Her safety came first. Always. Night was coming and with it those hunting her would be back, using the cover of darkness to search for them.

  “Should we move before nightfall?” She’d know better than he what reapers could or couldn’t do. It would be stupid not to tap into her knowledge.

  “It would be unpredictable. They wouldn’t expect me to be with another person. We might actually blend in better, go unnoticed.”

  “You sure they won’t sense you?” That was a huge worry. “How can I kill them?”

  “You can’t.” Her blunt words fell like an anvil, hard and heavy. “Only Death or a head reaper can take down one.” She glanced away as she spoke.

  Something in his gut twisted. That wasn’t quite the truth. There’d been an odd note in her voice and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  Something dark and dangerous welled up inside him, his lighthearted bear side withdrawing in hurt bewilderment.

  She was lying to him.

  No, not lying, just not telling him everything.