Primal Heat

by Susan Sizemore

  “Why would they do that?”

  Cage patted the wolves’ on the head. “I do a stage show that features George and Gracie here.”

  “And lions and tigers and bears?” Mike asked with a sniff.

  “No bears.”

  Mike glanced around. “This is your dressing room?” Cage nodded. “What’s with all the stuffed animals?”

  Cage gave the piles of plush tigers and lions a wave. “Gifts from teenage girl fans,” he explained. “When I can’t take the clutter anymore, I donate whatever George and Gracie don’t shred to a local hospital.”

  Vampires could be such softies. Which was a good thing for the world, when you considered what the bad ones could do with their gifts. The question was, was this vampire enough of a good guy for Mike to trust him with information about who the bank robbers really were? He owed the guy, and if Matt wasn’t in town, then Cage’s help could come in handy.

  But Mike didn’t know the personal dynamics of the local vampire population. Even if Cage wasn’t involved in the crimes, it was a sure bet he was involved one way or another with the ones who were. Vampires didn’t have the pack mentality of werefolk, but loyalty to your own kind was a necessary mind-set when you were among the smallest and most despised minorities in the world.

  “Did you know Matt Bridger was in town? And if he’s left yet?”

  Cage didn’t look pleased at the mention of Bridger. “He’s here, and he’s gone all official on us while he neutralizes some Purists that broke the truce.”

  Well, wasn’t that interesting? It seemed that Matt wasn’t aware of the bad vampires in the neighborhood but was after mortals instead. This didn’t smell right.

  “Then can I use your phone?” Mike stood up and noticed that he was naked. “And borrow some clothes?” He checked his thigh and saw a livid scar, but the wound itself was healed. Good. He was back to normal in every way.

  “In a minute.” Cage rose to his feet, and the wolves headed back behind the counter. “First, you better make sure you really are free of the spell.”

  Mike hated the stab of fear that went through him at the thought of doing something that should be as easy as breathing. He recognized the fear as residue of the trap. He was free, but still scared to morph! Damn, that bitch had done a number on him.

  Right before she’d put a spell on him, he’d been thinking that staying in wolf form forever was appealing. Being trapped in his animal body had cured him of that temptation.

  “I don’t want to be a wolf,” he said.

  Cage gestured toward his lurking canines. “They’re wolves, you’re not. Change.”

  The damned vampire was right. He had to know he could do it, and trying it here would be safe. He was safe here, right? He had to trust that. And believe he could morph at will. No, he had to know he could.

  He swore. Then he took a deep breath and let his body flow from one form into another.

  It wasn’t hard at all. And frankly, the room smelled better to his human nose.

  So he took another deep breath, and changed back. “Satisfied?” he asked the watching vampire.

  “Completely,” Cage answered. “Although you would have made a great addition to my act.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  W e need to talk.”

  “Now?” Matt asked, and took Phillipa’s nipple into his mouth.

  “Okay, later,” she agreed, breathless and burning.

  Somewhere along the line they had rolled off the couch and onto the floor, and managed to pull off all their clothes.

  Phillipa ran her hands through his hair, and across the magnificent width of his shoulders. She’d never known anything to feel as wonderful as touching him. Except that being touched by him was maybe, just maybe, a little bit more wonderful.

  “I’m making love to a vampire.”

  I’m making love to a vampire! Wait until I tell Jo.

  Wait until I get my hands on Jo. What was she thinking? Why didn’t she tell me?

  Matt’s head lifted from her breast, and she saw the glitter of amusement in his narrow green eyes.

  Then he kissed her, and all she could think about for a while was how much she never wanted him to stop kissing her.

  “You’ve bitten me, haven’t you?” she asked when his mouth left hers.

  “I have, I confess,” he answered. “Several times.” He kissed a line from her temple down to the base of her throat.

  “I thought so.” She laughed. “Now I know why Jo wanted to know if we’d done anything kinky.”

  “Kinky?” His eyes glittered laughter at her again. “Woman, not tasting you would be kinky.”

  “Tasting.” She repeated the word. “I like how that sounds. Sexy, instead of—kinky.”

  “If you want to get kinky, love, I’m sure we can come up with something to satisfy your tastes.”

  “I’m sure we can. Later,” she told him, with a wicked smile. “Let me get used to this ‘my boyfriend is a vampire’ thing before I show you my fur-lined handcuffs.”

  “Boyfriend!” He sounded affronted. “I think I’m a bit more than that.”

  A thrill went through her as this declaration, but she managed to keep her tone light as she asked, “Is that a proposal?”

  He laughed. “I don’t need to propose.”

  “Why, you arrogant—”

  He bit her shoulder, and the explosion of pleasure cut off anything she might have to say.

  Okay, she didn’t need a proposal, she thought, when she came back down to earth. What she wanted was this, all the time.

  “God, I missed you,” she whispered against his chest.

  “I thought it was best to walk away—fool that I am.”

  His hands moved over her, his mouth slowly teased down her body, and the heat of need began to build again. She whimpered when he shifted away from her.

  “I should have done this a long time ago,” he said.

  Her puzzlement was answered when his wrist pressed against her mouth. There was suddenly blood on her lips, and the heat and scent tempted her tongue. The taste of him was hot and sweet at once, and full of fire.

  She was an Arizona girl, she adored everything hot and spicy. She clamped her mouth around his wrist, and suckled hard.

  It was better than twelve-year-old scotch or hundred-year-old brandy. Better than champagne, or double-shot espresso, or any drug she could imagine.

  He tasted of honey and tequila, mixed with lava shot through with radioactive isotopes.

  And this vintage was made just for her.

  She drank in Matthias—his life, his soul, his dreams and his hopes, his fears and frustrations, and most of all, his deep need to be completely one with her.

  When he took his wrist away, she began to cry.

  He grasped her tightly to him. “I know,” he whispered. “I know.” He let out a deep, heart-wrenching sigh. “We’ll never be alone again.”

  The intensity of his tone brought her head up, and she looked into his eyes.

  She brushed damp hair from his forehead, and his eyes closed on a shudder. “Matt, you’re terrified.”

  He kissed her temple, then her nose. “My dear, you have no idea.”

  Then his lips claimed hers again, and she forgot thoughts and words.

  Their bodies shifted, and her hips rose to meet his hard, piercing thrust. As he moved inside her, she rode the rising spiral of sensation that took her to another place where all that they were met, joined, and explosively shattered.

  Chapter Thirty

  Y ou’re right, Matthias, I have no idea.”

  Phillipa’s voice drifted to him from a long way off. He loved the sound of her voice. And the soft pillow of her breast against his cheek, and the scent of her skin. When her words finally sank in, he realized he was going to have to come back from this pleasant, drifting place and face some real-world problems. He didn’t want to.

  “More sex,” he mumbled, “less talk.”

  “How old are you?”
she asked.

  “Um—one hundred thirty-something.” Maybe closer to one hundred and fifty; he couldn’t quite remember. He began to caress her for their mutual pleasure, and to distract her if possible.

  “Which means you’re somewhat beyond adolescence in vampire years, am I right?” There was a catch in her voice, but he could tell she wasn’t going to be distracted.

  “I’m a bit long in the fang, as a friend recently put it.”

  She laughed, and ran her hands down his back. There was more comfort in her touch than anything he had ever known. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time,” she told him. “When I lived in London, I used to wander around with this sense of anticipation. I thought it was just because I loved the city so much—but now I realize that the exciting something I was waiting to find around every corner was really you. How is that possible?” She laughed again. “Or am I just being a total romantic twit?”

  “Never a total twit.” He lifted his head to look at her. “Besides, if I’d seen you coming, I would have run for cover.”

  She frowned at him. “Why? What are you afraid of? Girl humans and boy vampires obviously work.” She laughed, but nervousness underlaid the humor. “Marc was matchmaking, but Jo tried to warn me off.” She tilted her head. “Which has something to do with why you don’t want this, this—thing—we have.”

  “This thing is called bonding.”

  “Which means…we were born to be together? Body, mind, and soul?”

  He nodded as he touched the tip of her pert nose. “Perceptive wench, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve watched Marc and Jo together. They seem so different, yet I can’t imagine them being with anyone else. There’s a connection between them, like we have. Why doesn’t Jo want us to be together?”

  “For your sake,” he answered. “I have a reputation among our kind.”

  “As a womanizer? A drunk? Gambler? What? It’s explanation time, Matthias.” She shoved against his shoulders. “Move over; you’re heavy. It’s not like you’re some dinky little elf boy. Are there elves?” she added as he rolled off of her, then helped her to her feet. Their fingers stayed twined together after they were standing.

  Matt shrugged. “If there are, they certainly wouldn’t travel in the same social circles as vampires.”

  He went to put his hands on her waist, but she backed away and began to gather her scattered clothing. Accepting that she needed some armor to face their situation, he got dressed as well.

  When he was done, he glanced out the window and saw that day had turned into night. Making love to this woman was too distracting. Dangerously distracting, although being with her was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.

  “I have a job to do,” he told her. “Explanations are going to have to wait.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

  She ticked points off on her fingers as she answered. “Jo is safe. The baby is safe. I am safely with you, in a safe house. Yes, the bad guys are still out there, but nobody is in danger from them at the moment. So talk to me.” She flipped on a lamp, then sat on the couch and folded her hands in her lap.

  She looked so earnest he almost laughed, and so determined, he knew he didn’t dare do anything else if he wanted to get back on the job anytime soon.

  “Let’s see, where do I start?” he asked. “You now know that vampires are real, and that Bram Stoker got most of the details wrong. We are long-lived but not immortal. We are born, not made, and can’t turn anyone else into vampires. Science keeps us from being burned by sunlight. The people hunting you are called Purists. They’re a splinter group among the mortal vampire hunters, but mortals don’t generally hunt vampires anymore. Some vampires do need hunting, which is my job.” He smiled. “When vampires break our laws, I’m the cop that gets called in. Since the Purists have now broken the longstanding truce between vampires and mortals, it’s also my job to bring them to justice. Besides, as Brandon’s guardian, it is my duty to protect him.”

  “And mine,” Phillipa pointed out. “I’m also Brandon’s guardian.”

  Matt’s first impulse was to argue with her, but he couldn’t. Damn it by all the demons of day, the woman was right!

  “So you are,” Matt acknowledged with a stiff nod. “But—”

  She pointed a warning finger at him.

  He raised his hands in submission. “Fine. We’ll get the bastards together.”

  At least if he kept her by his side, it would be easier to protect her. It was very, very frustrating to know that he had no right to keep her completely out of harm’s way. By the Mother of the Moon, why had the Matri and Elders decided it was all right to allow mortal guardians for half-mortal children?

  “Because the kids are equal parts mortal and vampire?” Phillipa guessed.

  Matt was startled at her picking up his thought. But she was bound to pick up on his stronger thoughts and emotions as their bond grew deeper, wasn’t she? Now that they had shared blood—

  “What does your as-yet-unexplained reputation have to do with being bonded?”

  Goddess, but she was persistent!

  “It’s known that I’ve never wanted a bondmate. Your sister was trying to protect you from my well-earned love-them-and-leave-them rep. But since we first had sex, I’ve learned the hard way that there’s no fighting the need to bond. I never intended to stay with you. But once bitten, the taste for you was too strong.”

  “I see.”

  “Not that I haven’t tried to keep away from you.”

  She looked stricken, and asked in a tight voice, “Why? Would you prefer one of your own? Octavia, perhaps?”

  Her fear of rejection hit him like a blow. “No! I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Though he wasn’t quite sure what that was. Even with telepathy and the other psychic gifts of his kind, dealing with women was confusing. Especially dealing with this woman, because with Phillipa he had to get it right. Maybe they were bonding, but that didn’t make them of one mind.

  “I don’t want to see you hurt,” he told her. “I don’t want to get you killed.” He began to pace as a gruesome memory came back to him, one he was unfortunately going to have to share. He came to stand in front of her. “In my job, there’s only one cop at a time. There’s a very low crime rate among vampires.”

  He was tempted to veer off the subject and explain that he was only talking about the Families. But this wasn’t the time to get into the history and practices of the three different vampire cultures.

  “But those who do commit crimes tend to be dangerous, vicious, arrogant, egotistical, vengeful bastards. They don’t take kindly to being brought down. They take it very personally. And they always vow to get even. Some can be rehabilitated, but some…” He shook his head.

  “I know the type,” she told him. “I’ve put a few people away who vowed to get me when they get out.” She gave an offhand shrug. “Threats are part of the job.”

  “And accepting the danger for myself is part of my job,” he told her. “But I will not put anyone else in harm’s way.”

  She gave him a deep, assessing look. “What happened to get you so spooked?”

  “When I was an apprentice, the Prime who was training me fell in love with a mortal woman and began bonding with her. One of his enemies took revenge by murdering the Prime’s lover. He slit her throat.”

  He could still see the dark red stain spread across the carpet, smell the stench of lifeless blood, but he couldn’t put the full horror of the crime into words.

  Yet his perceptive Phillipa understood. “Blood is sacred,” she said. “Instead of taking her blood, the bastard showed his contempt by letting her bleed out.”

  Matt nodded. “I killed the bastard when I caught him, but the woman was dead, and the Prime who loved her was broken. I vowed I would never love anyone. Because I wasn’t going to be the cause of an innocent woman’s death.”

  She was
thoughtful for a while before she said, “That’s a noble sentiment, but I’m not sure I buy it.”

  Matt was startled. “What do you mean?”

  She sighed. “Are you sure you haven’t been using this tragedy as an excuse?”

  “An excuse for what?”

  “All sorts of things.” Once again, she ticked off points on her fingers. “You’ve stayed lonely to punish yourself for the bad ones that got away. And for the innocent ones that didn’t get away. To cultivate the image of a lone hunter. As an excuse not to settle down—because you believe you’d have to retire if you settled down. Or as an excuse not to grow up. I’m a cop myself, Matt. Believe me, I know the kind of psychological crap we can pull on ourselves.”

  “Woman, you sound like Marcus,” he blurted out in affront.

  She chuckled. “Marc is not nearly as dumb as he looks.”

  Matt was flabbergasted and furious. “Do you have any clue how I’ve denied myself these last three years? The moment I saw you, I knew we were meant to be bonded. But I chose to walk away. I knew what could happen if I let the bond happen, but I chose to save you instead. It is a Prime’s duty to protect the one he loves. I did it for you!”

  “You—chose.”

  “Yes. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “I see.”

  She did not come rushing into his arms to soothe his pain. “Is there a bathroom in this place?” she asked, standing abruptly.

  He was so taken aback that all he could manage was to point toward a hallway. “That way.”

  Phillipa nodded politely and stalked away.

  Matt stared after her, totally confused at the turn the conversation had taken. What was she so angry about? What had he done?

  He scratched his head. He considered nursing a rage at being offended. But when he heard the shower turn on, he decided that he’d already wasted too much time being without her in the last three years. They had to work this out right away.

  Besides, the idea of confronting her when she was naked and slippery wet was irresistibly appealing.