Wicked Kiss

by Rebecca Zanetti

  The biker in front had a silver gun half in his pants and against his belly.

  The bikes stopped, and the men parked just as the truck rolled up. A man jumped out. She recognized him as a member of Fire but didn’t remember his name. None of the men smiled.

  Her skin iced over.

  One by one, they dismounted from the bikes. The first guy pulled out his gun and checked the clip.

  Her stomach knotted. Oh, God. Why were they here? For Adam or her? Either way, the guns didn’t promise a conversation. She looked toward the bedroom door. There was nowhere to go. The men nodded at each other and then turned the corner of the cabin, headed for the front steps.

  Holding her breath, she lifted the window as quietly as she could. The front door banged open. Panicking, she scrambled out the window and landed hard on the wet weeds below. Pain lanced up her arm. She shoved herself to her feet and ran for the forest.

  Loud bootsteps pounded in the house, and another door slammed against a wall. Men shouted. She reached the trees and skidded around a small pine, her socks catching sticks. Panting, she crashed like a wild animal through trees and bushes, her arms pumping, her legs furiously kicking. She heard more male voices shouting behind her, along with the sound of men barreling through the trees.

  Branches scraped her cheek, and she ducked, trying to keep going.

  Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

  She looked frantically for any shelter. If she tried to reach the river, she’d be exposed.

  Silence settled.

  God. They were listening for her. She tried to make less noise, but branches broke beneath her aching feet. Sharp rocks cut into her, yet she kept going. Rain slashed her, branches snapped her, and the wind slapped her. The knot in her stomach spread out, filling her chest, making it hard to breathe.

  The terrifying feeling of the forest closing in on her made her pulse race and her gaze swing wildly around. Were they trying to surround her?

  A shot rang out, plugging a tree above her head. She screamed, and bark flew. Trying to hunch and make herself smaller, she kept going, twisting and turning around trees and scratchy bushes.

  “There she is,” a man yelled out.

  She whimpered and increased her speed, almost running into a group of rocks. She cleared them, her socks slipping on the last one and sending her sprawling. Her stomach hit first, followed by her chest and then her cheek. Sparks exploded in her mind. She lay, panting, her body paralyzed as she regained her breath. Tears filled her eyes, making it impossible to see.

  Hands clamped on her arms and yanked her up.

  The guy shook her. Hard.

  Her teeth rattled in her head, and pain bloomed in her skull. He turned her and shoved her toward his buddy. The barrel of a gun pressed right against her nape.

  “Move,” he said.

  Her legs trembled, and blood dripped from a cut on her cheek. She brushed it away, slipping again on the rocks. “Wh-what do you want?” she whispered, her body shaking.

  “You’ll see when we get there.” He pushed her harder with the gun.

  * * *

  Adam kept his stance casual when his temper was anything but. It was entirely possible that Jamm might shoot him. “If it were your old lady, you would’ve gotten her, too,” Adam said, his gaze returning to Pyro.

  Pyro glared at him. “If it was my fuckin’ old lady, she wouldn’t have been at the Grizzlies.”

  Now that was probably a fair statement. “She might not have known she was my old lady yet,” Adam said, looking for any sort of common ground. “I took her from Lucas Clarke.”

  Pyro sat back. “You stole his old lady?”

  “Sure did.” Well, she hadn’t really been Clarke’s. But Pyro sure as hell didn’t know that fact. “I took her, beat the shit out of a few of them, and that’s the end of it.”

  “You were in Bear’s office for quite a while,” Jamm said, looking like he wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in Adam’s head.

  Adam kept his concentration on the leader. “Bear was threatening to kill me for entering his territory, and I threatened to bring down the entire hammer of Fire on his ass, and we scuffled a bit. Broke several of his ribs.” Adam smiled at the blatant lie as if remembering the moment fondly. If anybody had seen Bear afterward, he really hadn’t looked healthy. Broken ribs could account for that.

  “You fought Bear and then a couple of other members?” Pyro asked.

  “Sure,” Adam said calmly. “That’s what you would’ve done, right?” Pyro was definitely a waste of space. It was probably time to burn Fire to the ground and investigate the case from a different angle. It had been a miscalculation to work with the club for so long. Pyro couldn’t give him the information he needed.

  Pyro steepled his stained fingers beneath his chin. “I do like the thought of you beating on Bear.” He gestured toward the seat next to Ziggy and across from Jamm. “Please take a seat so we can discuss your place here.”

  Jamm gestured with the gun, not giving Adam much choice.

  Even so, awareness filtered through Adam and tensed his muscles. He was missing something. “What would you like to discuss?”

  The sound of an altered truck engine roared through the rain outside along with several motorcycle pipes. Adam stiffened. “Did I miss a ride?”

  Jamm snorted. “You could say that.”

  Adam half rose, and Jamm gestured with the gun. Adam sat and turned toward Pyro, letting the predator he really was show. “What’s going on?”

  Pyro blinked and sat back in his chair. Then he shook his head. “Just wait.”

  Ziggy’s phone squealed like a stuck pig, and he lifted it to his ear. He gave one short nod. “Shipment is in.”

  Pyro nodded. “Go take care of it. I’ll be in touch in about an hour.”

  Adam crossed his arms. “Apollo shipment?”

  “One thing at a time,” Pyro said, anticipation lighting his eyes. Ziggy sauntered out of the room, and it was all Adam could do to let him go.

  Five minutes passed. All right, that was enough. Adam tensed to jump for the gun when footsteps echoed outside. Then a knock on the door.

  “Ah. They’re here.” Pyro moved around the other side of the table and opened the door.

  The door opened, and a member named Tinker shoved Victoria inside in front of him.

  Everything in Adam went deadly silent. “Victoria?” he asked.

  She looked at him, dazed. Just like that, relief filled her pretty eyes.

  Scratches marred her neck and face, while pine needles stuck out of her wet hair. Blood flowed down her arm from a cut he couldn’t quite see. Bruises were already turning dark along her neck, and mud covered most of her.

  Adam pushed back his chair and stood.

  “Sit the fuck down,” Jamm ordered.

  “What did you do?” Adam asked Pyro, his voice sharper than cut glass.

  Pyro nodded at Tinker. “Do you have men watching Grizzly territory? We’re taking them out soon.” When Tinker nodded, Pyro gestured toward Ziggy’s empty seat. “Watch how things happen. I need a VP, and I’m thinking you’re a candidate.”

  Tinker’s eyes widened, showing his dilated pupils. The guy definitely tried the products. At about forty, he had a large beer belly and a sunken chest. He took his seat with definite pride.

  Pyro faced Adam squarely. “I wanted answers and figured your bitch would be able to motivate you. Finally.”

  The beast inside Adam, the one that had tasted Victoria the other night, bunched and tried to spring free. He held it at bay for the moment, focusing on Victoria’s battered face. “Are you all right?”

  She swallowed and tears filled her stunning blue eyes. “I think so.” Her soft voice trembled, and the bewilderment in it threatened to send him over the edge.

  The motorcycles roared into action outside and zoomed away.

  “Shoot her in the leg, Jamm,” Tinker said. “That’ll motivate the bastard. We’ll know where the guns are w
ithin seconds.”

  Fire and rage mingled in Adam’s chest. “You’re gonna die second, Tinker,” he said.

  Tinker snorted. “Right, big guy. Jamm has a gun on you.”

  Pyro grabbed Victoria and yanked her back to his chest, his gun already out and pointed at her neck. “I’m done dickin’ around. I have no problem putting a nice hole in your bitch. Give me the location of my guns, and do it now.”

  “You’re going to die first, Pyro.” Adam finally let his beast off the chain.

  Chapter 16

  Tori tried to use her powers, such as they were, to jam the gun pushing against her neck. Her mind fuzzed, and her body shook from cold and fear, but she needed to focus. The gun hurt her already damaged throat. But seeing the gun pointed at Adam filled her with an all-new terror. One that made it nearly impossible to move.

  No expression sat on Adam’s angled face, but fire burned in his eyes. Hot and dark, it glittered with fury. He was absolutely more than a man, and it was shocking the other people in the room couldn’t see the predator preparing to attack. She watched him, waiting for a signal.

  Then he moved.

  Somehow, he launched himself across the table toward Jamm. The gun went off, but it didn’t stop Adam’s momentum. He plowed a fist into Jamm’s face the same second he wrenched the gun free, pivoted, and shot Pyro in the head.

  Blood sprayed across Tori’s face, and she screamed, falling against the door as Pyro plunged to the floor. Adam didn’t pause. He turned again and shot Tinker between the eyes. Then, doing a full turn, he pivoted and shot Jamm, whose head jerked back, hit the wall, and then dropped forward. His body slumped in death.

  Tori opened her mouth, but another scream wouldn’t come out. Her body shook, adrenaline flooding it.

  Adam turned toward her, his fangs out, raw rage in his glittering eyes. “Are you okay?” His voice sounded more animalistic than human.

  She slowly shook her head, spraying tears. “N-no.”

  “I’m sorry you saw that.” He pounded the gun against the table, shattering the wood. Then he moved toward her, and she recoiled instinctively. Pain flared in his eyes, but he kept coming, his movements calm and deliberate, as if he hadn’t just killed three men. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Taking her hand, he led her from the room and away from death.

  What had just happened? The smell of blood filled the world. She followed woodenly behind him, her movements stiff and jerky. “You’re bleeding,” she whispered.

  He looked down at the bullet hole in his left shoulder. Blood flowed down to his wrist. “It’s okay. I’ll heal.” His voice remained low, almost soothing, as he helped her through the clubhouse and out into the rain. Away from the macabre scene.

  She lifted her face, taking a deep breath. The smell of blood and death continued to linger, but the punishing rain helped wash away some of the terror. Her legs trembled.

  Glancing around, he took her over to one of the garages, leaning her against the door under an awning. The wind burst against her, but she was out of the rain. “I need you to stay here for just a couple of minutes, okay?”

  She nodded, the entire world fuzzy. Shudders wracked her body, but she didn’t really feel the cold. She wasn’t feeling anything.

  He shook out of his jacket and pressed it around her, zipping it up. “You’re going into shock. Just give me a second. Stay here.”

  Her head lolled on her neck, and she pushed against the building, forcing it to hold her up. Adam disappeared inside the garage. Her knees shook so hard she just gave up and slid to the wet ground. Her arms instinctively wrapped around her calves, and she hugged her knees to her chest inside his jacket. So much blood and death.

  The smell of him surrounding her helped her to find a shaky center. She breathed deep his scent of wildness and the forest before a storm.

  Adam had just killed three men. Oh, they were bad men, and they probably would’ve killed both Tori and Adam. But he’d moved so quickly and shot so rapidly without even thinking it through. And he hadn’t used any fire or witch abilities. Just sheer male power.

  Except for the speed. Maybe the speed was witch born. It was as if he’d flipped a switch to go from Adam to somebody else. To something else. Was that him in true Enforcer mode? Was it a mode? Or was it the true being at his core? She bit back a sob.

  Even so, his scent offered comfort. Protection. Safety. No matter what he’d done or how easily he’d done it . . . he’d saved her.

  She lost track of how long he was gone.

  Rain continued to pelt all around her, hitting the concrete and bouncing up. Her body ached but the pain seemed to come from a distance. Nothing touched her. Not right now. Maybe not ever. Somewhere deep down, she realized it was shock. Closer to the surface, she just couldn’t find the energy to care. The numbness helped, and she let it hold her.

  Adam finally came striding out with a backpack over one shoulder, a hard angle to his jaw. Concern lit his eyes when he saw her on the ground. “The clubhouse is empty right now, baby. We have to go.”

  His words kind of made sense, but she couldn’t make herself move.

  He curved a hand around her elbow and gently lifted her. She wavered. “It’s okay, Victoria. I’m getting you out of here and to somewhere warm.” Sliding an arm around her shoulder, he led her to his bike. Without waiting for her to get on, he lifted her by the waist. Her hands flattened on the leather seat to keep herself from falling off.

  He lifted one leg in front of her and straddled the bike with the pack still over his uninjured shoulder. “Can you hold on?”

  She looked numbly toward the trees down the lane.

  “Victoria.” His voice sharpened.

  She jerked. Rain slashed across her face. She shivered.

  “Hold on. Now.” His voice held a frightening command, and she obeyed instantly, holding him and settling her face against his back. The rain had already drenched his thin T-shirt, but his warmth radiated beneath. She tried to lean into him, to borrow some of that warmth, but nothing penetrated her haze.

  He gunned the motor and the bike jumped forward. They’d gone nearly half a mile down the drive when he swung the bike in a wide arc, facing the clubhouse.

  She lifted her head, blinking rapidly against the storm.

  Adam held the handlebars, tension rolling from him. “They hurt you, Victoria.”

  She gulped in air.

  “This is what happens because of that.”

  The world went silent for the briefest of moments. Then the ground shook. The clubhouse exploded, throwing fire, barstools, and debris high into the air. A second later the first garage went, and then the next. The hood from a cherry red muscle car crashed onto the road and tumbled end over end, fire consuming it, the metal burning with a shriek.

  She gasped and went rigid but couldn’t scream.

  Several smaller explosions rocked through the structures, blowing out every wall and window. Glass shattered out, scattering through the forest. Even the cement of the square cracked and gave, pebbles of concrete careening in every direction. The pool table imploded on itself, spraying burning billiard balls in every direction. An eight ball impacted with a nearby pine tree, sticking hard in the bark. Bottles of alcohol blew up, sending glass and liquid flying, increasing the spitting of the fire.

  She couldn’t move. Not one part of her could move. He’d done this because they’d hurt her.

  The flames rose high in the air, combating the rain, more powerful than the storm.

  Any remaining interior walls crumbled and gave. The fire continued, somehow not reaching the surrounding trees. It was as if its hunger remained with the walls, targeting anything having to do with Titans of Fire.

  He had ended them. The entire place. It was over.

  Tori shivered again. He’d done this while protecting her—as her protector and possibly her lover. What would he do for a mate? The heavy mantle of responsibility slammed down on her shoulders. Belonging to a male like Adam held power . . .
and duty.

  She could see it so clearly in the glowering flames. Was she strong enough to even consider it?

  Adam lifted a phone to his ear and dialed. “Detective Bernie Phillips, please.” He waited several beats before speaking again, his voice rising three octaves and gaining a Russian accent. “There’s been an explosion at Titans of Fire, and I don’t know how it happened. For now, I have files I’m e-mailing to you that will help you bring down the entire club. Hard copies and other documents are coming as well. You’re welcome.” He clicked off and watched the fire burn a little bit longer.

  She shivered and pressed more closely against him.

  He dialed another number. “King? Titans of Fire just exploded and the cops are going to raid all the members. Get your boys home.” He paused. “They’re at headquarters already? Good. Keep them there.” He slipped the phone into his jeans pocket.

  “Boys?” Tori mumbled, her gaze caught on debris drifting slowly down.

  “A couple of prospects who’d gone undercover with us. They’re young and they need to be away from here.” Then he slowly swung the bike around. “Can you hold on?” he asked quietly.

  “You killed them,” she whispered, trying to get a hold on her emotions as well as on the reality of the moment.

  “They signed their death warrants when they put you in harm’s way. The very second Pyro held that gun to your neck, he was a dead man.” No give, no regret, no real emotion rode on Adam’s words. “I get that you might not understand that. But it’s absolute.” He gunned the engine, driving rapidly away from what used to be Titans of Fire.

  * * *

  Adam reached the cabin, making sure Victoria kept a good hold on his waist. By the time he stopped the bike, he’d already healed his shoulder, although a residual ache remained. It had taken a minimal use of his powers, so hopefully he hadn’t sent out a signal.

  He focused on the most immediate need—Victoria. She had certainly gone into shock, and he had to warm her up. Now. Turning, he swept her up and strode through the cabin, dropping the backpack on the way. In seconds, he had her in a warm shower and was shampooing the dirt and twigs out of her thick hair.