Primal Heat

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Primal Heat Page 20

by Susan Sizemore


  Her trust in him was all he needed.

  Octavia, please, he told the vampire mucking with his head. Is that the best you’ve got?

  Matt rose to his feet, and proceeded to twist the world back the way he wanted it.

  “Good lord,” Phillipa said as she walked into the bedroom, Jason a step behind her.

  The first thing she saw was Matt and Octavia facing each other, eyes glazed over. They were as still as statues, yet clearly a struggle was going on between them.

  Then the smell of death hit her, and her gaze went to a naked Mike Bleythin just as he finished morphing back into his human form. He wiped blood off his mouth with the back of his hand, and she saw the body lying on the floor with its throat torn out.

  She was used to crime scenes, but this was the weirdest one she’d ever encountered. She turned her attention back to the vampires. She caught the impression of the pair being at the still center of a dangerous, twisting maelstrom. It made her sick and frightened to watch.

  When she started toward Matt, Jason grabbed her arm. “No,” he whispered.

  “What’s happening?” she whispered back. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s showing her why he’s the most dangerous Prime in the Families,” Jason answered. “When it comes down to it, it’s not physical prowess that sets any of us apart from the others of our kind. We all have fangs and claws; we all have speed and agility and heightened senses. But it’s the one with the strongest will and the finest telepathic skill that wins the real fights. Matthias is the Guardian because his mind is the strongest. Watch. Wait.”

  She did both anxiously, since there was nothing else she could do. He was doing battle in a place where she couldn’t go, and she finally understood why he’d been so adamant about her staying out of his confrontation with Octavia.

  It seemed like hours, but she doubted it was more than a few seconds before Octavia’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she crumpled in a limp heap on the floor.

  Matt didn’t move for several more seconds. Then a massive shudder went through him. He gasped, and blinked, and rounded on her.

  “What the devil are you doing here, woman?”

  Phillipa reacted to his angry shout by rushing joyfully into his arms.

  “You’re right,” she told him swiftly. “I shouldn’t be here. From now on I’ll stay out of the supernatural takedowns and only work with you on the human stuff.”

  “What makes you think I’m going to allow you to work with me at—” He got his temper under control, laughed, and hugged her tighter. “As if I could stop you.”

  He kissed her, and she felt him coming all the way back from a great distance as their mouths pressed hungrily to each other.

  You make me live, he told her. Be with me forever.

  Forever, she responded. I promise.

  A hand touched her shoulder. “Guys,” Mike said. “Our work here isn’t finished yet.”

  She recalled that there was a dead body in the room, and quickly stepped away from Matt. She looked at Octavia. Jason was kneeling beside her.

  “What’ll happen to her?” she asked.

  “She’ll do hard time,” Jason said, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. “But being a female of breeding age, it won’t be all that hard on her, will it, Matthias?” he added bitterly.

  “The sentence isn’t up to me, Jason,” Matt answered. “It never is. She might have gotten away with it for much longer,” he added. “If she hadn’t believed my being here could not be a coincidence.”

  As Jason picked Octavia up, Matt glanced at Mike, who nodded. He would leave his werewolf partner to deal with his own kind. The mortal police would never know what had happened here.

  “Time for us to go,” he said to Phillipa. “I still have another pair of vampires to hunt down. After this case is squared away, the two of us are going to have a long honeymoon somewhere where no one can interrupt us.”

  “That sounds nice,” she answered. “And after the honeymoon, we can have a big, expensive wedding.”

  Epilogue

  Four months later

  M y in-laws are scary.”

  Phillipa arched a beautifully shaped eyebrow at Matt’s pronouncement, and put her arm through his. She thought he looked incredibly handsome in a tuxedo. She was wearing a slinky white satin wedding dress.

  “Maybe Mom is a little scary,” she conceded. “She hasn’t yet forgiven you because we decided to live in England. But Dad likes you, and you’ve won over the boys.”

  She was delighted that her brothers had been able to make it back from overseas for the wedding. She thought they looked dashing in their dress uniforms. There was many a dashing Prime and lovely vampire woman in the hotel ballroom, as well.

  She and Matt had returned to Las Vegas for the wedding. Marcus had insisted on catering the reception, making the buffet table a very popular place. The party was a lively affair, full of Cages, Elliots, and many friends of the mortal and supernatural variety. At the moment the band was playing Sting’s “Fields of Gold,” and Phillipa wanted more than anything to dance with her bondmate.

  But before she could suggest it, Pete Martin came up to them. He was grinning, and Matt frowned when he gave her a peck on the cheek.

  “You look lovely,” Pete told her. He shook Matt’s hand. “You’re a lucky man, Bridger.”

  “So I am,” Matt answered. “Excuse me a moment, sweetheart.”

  He stepped away to speak to Mike Bleythin and Cathy, the female werewolf Mike had brought as his guest. She’d found out about Mike’s addiction problem, and was happy to see he was holding a bottled water in his hand.

  “I’m glad to have you alone for a minute,” Phillipa told Pete.

  “Really?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me that now you want to run off with me.”

  She laughed. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about the cases you were working on the last time I was in town. Any breaks on either of them?” Though she knew how they’d turned out, she was interested in the mortal take on the cases.

  “Oh, lord, the woman wants to talk shop on her wedding day.” He shook his head. “The killings and the robberies stopped. We’re guessing they were related, and that the perps have moved on. We’ve alerted every other force in the country, so they’ll recognize the MO if anything similar starts elsewhere.”

  “That’s all you can do,” she commiserated.

  He nodded. “There is a funny twist to the case, though it might not be related. About a month after the robberies stopped, a very large sum of money was donated to local charities.”

  “Really?”

  “It amounted to about ninety percent of the take from all the robberies combined. But nobody could prove it was actually the stolen money, so the charities happily accepted the windfall.”

  “Interesting.” She glanced across the room toward Matt. “I mean, that’s nice.”

  A beautiful vampire woman came up and tapped Pete on the shoulder. “Dance with me,” Matt’s great-grandmother said to the handsome mortal male. Pete perked up at the glorious sight of her, and gladly let her lead him onto the dance floor.

  “Would you like to dance with me?” Jason Cage asked, stepping up to Phillipa. She barely recognized him without his wolf companions.

  “No,” she answered.

  “Ah, well. It’s always worth a try.”

  “But I do have a question for you,” she said. “I’ve wondered about something ever since we met in your dressing room.”

  “Then ask.” He smiled expansively. “A bonded female can be denied no request on the day she is formally acknowledged by her new Family. Which translates to wedding day in mortal-speak,” he added.

  “You lied about something then,” she said. “So I didn’t trust you at first. I’ve wondered what you lied about, ever since.”

  “I’m sorry, but I barely remember the conversation.”

  She refreshed his memory, and he smiled. “George and Gracie,” he said. �
�I told you that they’re mostly malamute, but they are one hundred percent wolf. I didn’t like insulting them like that, but people tend to be less nervous around them when I lie about their ancestry.”

  “I think you should go back to your wolves now,” Matt said, coming back to her side. Jason nodded, and disappeared into the crowd. “I’m almost beginning to like that boy,” Matt said. “Especially now that he’s gone.”

  Phillipa laughed, and put her arms around his waist. “I just heard something curious,” she told her bondmate.

  He rested his hand at the base of her spine and tugged her even closer. Warmth spread through her from all the places where they touched.

  “Pete told me that all but ten percent of the stolen money was returned,” she said.

  “Really?”

  She looked him in the eye. “Did you keep a cut of the take?”

  “Call it a finder’s fee,” he answered. “How do you think a Guardian gets paid, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head, and the band began playing a new song. “Oh, no,” she complained, leaning her forehead against Matt’s chest. “I specifically told them not to play—”

  “Queen,” he complained.

  They held each other and laughed.

  “This is where we came in,” he said.

  “And I think it’s about time we left,” she said, fire racing through her.

  “Your wish is everyone’s command on your wedding day. And it will always be mine.”

  “Except on the rare, high-handed occasion when it isn’t,” Phillipa said, knowing and loving her man. “Let’s go.”

  As they headed for the door, Matt sang along with the band, “And another one bites the dust.”

  Pocket Star

  proudly presents…

  PRIMAL DESIRES

  By Susan Sizemore

  Coming soon from Pocket Star

  Turn the page for a preview of

  Primal Desires…

  Central Europe, Winter, 1943

  The trio of creatures surrounding Jason Cage in the clearing had to be werewolves. No wolf had ever looked at him out of glowing gold eyes that held an intelligence that rivaled his own. This pack was the last thing he’d expected to find in the deep forest tonight. Being surrounded by members of the Gestapo would not have surprised him, nor would the touch on his shoulder of the vampire Prime who also hunted him. But this was a most unexpected turn of events.

  Then again, why not werewolves? The moon was full, the woods were remote. If he were a werewolf, he’d consider this countryside perfect for running free. Freedom was a thing every creature desired, be they mortal or otherwise evolved.

  “Good evening,” he said, mostly because it was something he’d heard a vampire say in an American movie.

  He hoped the largest werewolf’s answering snarl was a form of laughter.

  “I mean no harm to you,” he continued calmly, without making any effort to reach the werewolves’ minds telepathically. He did this mostly out of politeness, but also because every time he tried psychic communication lately, the other Prime somehow focused in on his use of mental energy.

  The werewolves circled him, silver moonlight outlining their dark shapes. In morphed form they must be huge men.

  He realized that they meant him harm, which was not generally the way it went between werewolves and vampires.

  “Why?” he asked as the trio drew closer.

  They began to circle, coming one step nearer with each turn around the clearing. Clearly this was a dance, a ritual. Was there meant to be a sacrifice at the end?

  While his ancestors might have participated in that sort of Old Religion nonsense, Jason was a Prime of the twentieth century.

  “There’s a war on, you know,” he reminded the circling beasts. “We should be fighting the Germans instead of each other.”

  They continued to come toward him.

  Well, he’d done his best to be civilized. He smiled, happily anticipating the fight. “Very well, then.”

  As if his words were a signal, the pack let out an eerie howl and they all rushed him at once.

  Jason laughed, and set about tossing them around as if they were stuffed toys rather than creatures of hard muscle, sharp claws, and wicked fangs. They got in a few scratches and a nip or two, but vampire skin was tough and healed quickly.

  All in all, Jason enjoyed the game. He’d been running and hiding too much lately; this was a chance to take out his frustrations in a perfectly Primal way.

  When it was over, Jason hadn’t even broken a sweat, while the werewolves lay in panting, exhausted heaps in the clearing. Jason was tempted to raise his head and howl at the moon himself.

  What stopped him was the sudden awareness that he and the werewolves were not alone. There was a mortal standing behind him, and as Jason turned to face him, the mortal began to clap.

  “I’m glad you found us entertaining,” Jason said to the white-bearded old man.

  The mortal was shabbily dressed, but he had the bearing of an ancient prince. He lowered gnarled hands to his side, and gave Jason a regal nod. The werewolves dragged themselves from the ground and came to crouch at the old man’s feet.

  “Welcome, Prime,” the mortal said. He touched a werewolf’s head and it leaned against his thigh. “You have done well tonight.”

  Clearly, he had just been through some sort of test. But what was it—and why?

  Las Vegas, Spring, Present Day

  “One more show, and then I get two months off. I can hardly wait.”

  Jason understood his assistant’s enthusiasm as they waited backstage. She had plans to get married during their hiatus and honeymoon on Bora Bora. He had no particular project or destination in mind.

  Or he hadn’t, until a few minutes ago.

  “I’ll miss the critters, though. Do you think they’ll miss us?”

  She was referring to the tigers and lions they used in The Beast Master stage magic show. The animals would be spending their holiday at a very exclusive private nature reserve. The wolves, of course, never left his side.

  “They won’t want to come back to work after two months of running free,” Jason answered.

  He fingered the talisman he’d put in his vest pocket. He’d recognized the gold coin instantly, even though only half of it had been sent to him.

  Out front, the applause was beginning.

  Even with his powers, it was never wise to be distracted during a performance. He wished he hadn’t opened the padded envelope until he was alone in his dressing room after the show. He certainly wished he hadn’t read the note.

  Now he had somewhere he absolutely needed to be, and an obligation he could not refuse to fulfill.

  But at this moment, the demands of the audience called him.

  Northeast of San Diego, Spring, Present Day

  Sofia Hunyara was very aware of the weight of the gold pendant resting at the base of her throat. Nothing else felt like gold. It was heavy and rich and there, whether she could see it or not. The crescent-shaped half of an ancient coin, which she wore on a leather cord, was tucked discreetly beneath her blouse. After turning off the car, she couldn’t keep from tracing the coin’s outline beneath the soft silk. Once upon a time, the coin had been all she’d had and she’d fought hard to keep it. In the last few years, she’d kept it in a safety deposit box and hadn’t thought about it much. Not until the message arrived last week.

  She peered through her windshield at the house on the hilltop and shook her head. The mansion was impressive, but it looked completely out of place in the California desert.

  Why am I doing this? she asked herself again.

  It was because of her grandfather, she guessed, and her great-grandfather.

  She pressed her palm against the pendant.

  And the fact that, except for a distant cousin, she was alone in the world and the world did not make sense. At least, the past didn’t make sense.

  “This should go to your father,” her gran
dfather said, handing her a small leather bag. “I am so sorry this burden must go to you.”

  She tugged the bag open and spilled its contents into her cupped hand. It was what she expected, but different. She looked at the dying man propped up in the hospital bed. “Where’s the other half?”

  “Your father should be the one to teach you,” he said. “He should be here now.”

  Her father was serving three consecutive life terms at Seal Bay. She was never going to see him again, and she didn’t want him teaching her anything. She’d seen what he’d done. But this was no time to take her bitterness out on her grandfather. All she could do was wait for the old man to go on.

  “Someday you’ll know what must be done. Someday your teacher will be found. Until then be patient. Someday.”

  His last word had been someday. Sofia had waited a long time. Much of that time had not been pleasant. She’d stopped expecting explanations, or even wanting them. But here she was.

  Another vehicle pulled up behind hers at the end of the long drive. Sofia got out of her car at the same time a man exited the white SUV behind her. He was tall and lean, with very broad shoulders and lots of wavy brown hair. She was struck by the coiled energy and animal grace in the way he moved as he came toward her. She would have had to be dead not to stare, and couldn’t help but lick her lips.

  Okay, the guy looked delicious, but that was no reason to be rude, or blatant. Sofia managed to get the spike of lust under control by the time he reached her. She was left feeling awkward and embarrassed, as well as hot.

  She turned her attention toward the gothic pile of stone in front of them. “Do you think it comes with its own mad woman in the attic?” she asked. “Or do they have to rent one?”

  Silly! This wasn’t the sort of guy who’d know Jane Eyre.

  “And do Heathcliff and Cathy have a guest house out back?” he answered.

  Wow, Wuthering Heights, too! His voice was deep and rich as cream, and she couldn’t help but smile at him. She was immediately caught by the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

 

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