by Leia Shaw
He took another deep breath and stilled when it hit him. One of his kind but not pack. And Natalia. Looking closer, he noticed a trail of blood leading north. He memorized the scent then tore through the trees.
A mile from the dead wolf, he came to an abrupt stop in a patch of sparsely wooded forest. Natalia was bound to a tree, covered in blood, shirtless, and alone. Her head hung limply and the only indication she was alive was a slight twitch of her shoulders when he approached. He yearned to cut her free and cradle her in his arms, but with a great deal of effort, stopped himself. Natalia wouldn’t give the time of day to someone she didn’t respect. Coddling her would only push her away. She was mercenary to the core, and to get anything from her, he would need to be mercenary too.
He got down on one knee and lifted her head with his hand under her chin. Bruises covered her face and her lip bled, but she met his gaze with clear blue eyes.
“We really have to stop meeting up like this,” she rasped.
His lips twitched. “Still too proud to ask for help?”
“I’m stubborn, not stupid.” She swallowed hard, her gaze never leaving his. “Help me.”
“That’s not asking.”
She nearly managed a sneer. “Help me or don’t, but don’t gloat. It’s obnoxious.” Weakly, she pulled from his grasp.
“Agree to accept my help hunting the Silver Slayer and I’ll free you and keep you safe until you heal.”
“Forget it.” She wiggled her shoulders then hissed in a breath and sagged.
He took a moment to inspect her injuries. There was so much blood he could hardly see where it came from. But he couldn’t miss the deep gash that ran the width of her abdomen. He was surprised her intestines were still inside. And when he looked closer he could see the letter S carved above her right breast.
Bastard. He inhaled a deep breath, turning his anger into determination. “Would it be so bad to work with me?”
“You’re a control freak. You’d take over my investigation.”
He arched a brow. “And how do you know that?”
“You’re a man.”
A chuckle escaped him. “I’ll try to contain my…manly urges.” He sensed her reluctance and pushed. “I think you’d be surprised how reasonable I can be.”
Blue eyes stared at him, guarded and lonely. He wanted to fill them with joy.
“What are the terms?”
“The terms?”
“I’m not going blindly into a deal without spelling out the terms first.”
He sighed. “Talia, you’re about to pass out. We’ll work out the terms later.” She cast him a wary glance. “Come on. Have a little trust.”
He had a feeling her reluctant nod had nothing to do with her willingness to trust him, but all to do with her lack of better options. Either way, he sliced through her binds and helped her to her feet. A sign of just how injured she was, she leaned into him when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Then all her weight fell onto him and he cursed. She was half-dead.
She made a move to pull away but he tightened his arm around her. A weak growl was her response.
“Talia, you’re hurt.”
“No shit.”
He thrust his wrist to her mouth. “Drink.”
“I don’t drink from dogs.”
With a small shake he ordered again, “Drink!”
“No.”
He exploded. Anger at the Slayer, frustration with Talia’s stubbornness, sadness for the dying wolves – all of it came to a head. “For fuck’s sake, Natalia!” He pinned her arms to her sides and grabbed her face with one of his hands. “You are going to drink, or by God, I will force you!”
Her eyes widened, dropped to his wrist then narrowed. “All right, werewolf. If you insist.” Fangs slid down below her top lip and she gave him a grim look before biting into his vein.
He’d been bitten plenty by werewolves – in play, in combat, and in practice. But this…this curvy woman in skin tight leather and velvety lips was a real life wet dream. He hissed in an agonized breath.
A strand of hair fell in front of her face, blocking his view. Gently, he swept it back behind her ear. It was soft, like down feathers. Not able to stop himself, he continued to stroke her hair tenderly. He hadn’t touched a woman this way in a long time. “Yes, Talia. Drink. Take all you need.”
As if she just remembered where she was, her eyes flew open. She pulled her fangs from his skin. Her gaze, wild and intense, remained on him. Already her face regained its color and she stood on her own, her strength back. Blood stained her lips making her fangs gleam against the crimson liquid. His shaft hardened instantly at the erotic vision. She looked like a goddess of night. Dark and mysterious. A haunting beauty that was dangerous and unattainable.
Deep in her fathomless blue eyes the smallest flicker of emotion glittered. Lust.
He wasn’t beyond taking advantage of that. His hand drifted from her hair, down her cheek where he wiped the blood from her lip with his finger. She took a tentative step toward him, her gaze locked on his neck. He reached around her waist and pulled her into his arms. Then he kissed her.
She was stiff at first and he thought she might pull away. But then the bloodlust took over and she turned into a wild thing. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her tongue thrust into his mouth, licking and sucking. Sharp fangs pricked his bottom lip but it only added to his pleasure. She pulled back, looked him over hungrily then shoved him, trying to get him to the ground. He didn’t budge. They would get there eventually, but he wasn’t about to let her call all the shots.
“Take off the bra,” he ordered. It was gone in an instant. He was glad to see her injuries healed – the effect of fresh, supernatural blood. Her full, pink-tipped breasts beckoned his touch.
“Come here,” he commanded. She stepped toward him and he smiled. The bloodlust took away her fight, made her more responsive. He liked it. Filling his hands with her breasts, he kissed her again. He groaned as he stroked the soft, feminine skin under his fingertips. She fumbled with his belt, he ripped it off.
With a mischievous smirk, she slipped her foot behind his and shoved him hard. He fell to the ground but not without taking her with him. She straddled his hips.
“Thought I was passive in bed, did you?” Her lust-filled eyes and saucy grin shot jolts down his shaft. She ripped through his shirt, bottom to top. “Payback.”
Normally, he preferred to be the dominant one in bed, but the way she looked at him now – aggression and hunger dancing in her eyes – he would willingly die her slave. She leaned over with a satisfied smirk and he thought she was going to kiss him. But she didn’t. Instead she nuzzled her head into his neck. The prick of her fangs made him groan out loud.
He fisted both hands in her hair, inhaling its scent, making a memory of the exquisite experience. Blood left his body easily, longing to enter hers. To feed her, to provide for her. If she took much more, he’d pass out. But by God, what a way to go!
One hand stayed in her hair, holding her against his neck, the other roamed down her back and over her taut ass. She moaned and rocked against his erection.
“Can’t wait much longer, Talia.” His voice was thick with need.
“No,” she agreed, rising from his neck. “No longer.”
She slid off his body and stripped off the rest of her clothing. His eyes widened. Her slender waist curved to shapely thighs he wanted to taste, to bite.
She gestured to his pants and he wasted no time pulling them off. This time he tackled her backward so she lay on her back, naked in the grass like a delicious offering. He raked his gaze over her luscious figure and licked his lips. He could spend hours on her.
***
What the hell was she doing?
Just shut up, her body demanded. You need this!
Cristian boldly appraised her. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes grew dark and hungry. His golden body sat poised above her, strong and defined, ready to pounce.
Oh, yes, she needed this.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked. “An engraved invitation?”
Then he pounced. His mouth latched onto her nipple, sucking so hard she gasped and arched off the ground. The tip of his erection teased her, rubbing against her clit until she was frenzied with need. It throbbed, wetness pooled between her legs.
“Inside me, werewolf. Now!”
He ignored her command, rubbing against her sensitive clit instead. “Normally I’d play longer, teasing you, tasting you.”
“Uh-huh.” Why won’t he shut up?
“But I’m scared you’re going to run away.”
“Whatever. Just –” Run away. She froze.
Shit. What was she thinking?
Cristian’s body stilled over hers. “I ruined it, didn’t I?” His tone was disappointed. “I can see your fear.”
Fear? She’d put a stop to that weakness long ago. The reasons she didn’t get involved with men flew back into her mind like a movie on fast forward. Her body stiffened under his. She shoved him but he didn’t move.
“Don’t think, Natalia.” His hand – rough and calloused – swept the hair back from her face. So tender and caring.
She shuddered.
“Feel,” he said desperately, pressing his palm to her chest. “Feel me. Know me. I’m on your side.”
She had no side. Her hands roamed up his chest and he closed his eyes, exhaling a pleasurable sigh. The smoothness of his skin, the contours of his muscles – she etched them into her memory. For that’s all she’d ever have of him. With the viciousness she was known for, she pushed him and spat, “Get off.”
He sighed, but rolled off of her. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“I’d have regretted it.” She stood and pulled on her pants.
He looked down at his hard-on. “I wouldn’t have.”
She grabbed her bra off the ground finally registering the chill in the air. Bastard took her shirt. Where was her jacket? “I’m sure you can still find some tail,” she told him. “It’s not like there’s a lot of competition in these small towns. I bet you have women throwing themselves at you.” She spotted her leather jacket in a pile of leaves next to the tree she’d been tied to.
He grinned. “You find me attractive?”
She tossed him a sideways glance then retrieved her jacket. “I said there wasn’t a lot of competition.”
He rose from the ground and tugged on his jeans, wincing as he tucked himself in. “Women have told me I’m ruggedly handsome.”
Ruggedly handsome? What an understatement. “Uh-huh. And these women, had they consumed large quantities of alcohol?”
“Very funny.” A frown reached his face as she started to put on her coat. “Take my shirt.” He held it out to her.
“No.” She could hear his teeth grind from a few yards away.
“Damn it, Natalia! I am going to tie you back to that tree if you don’t take the fucking shirt!”
Pushy bastard. She met his furious gaze then took the shirt without a word and pulled it on. It was far too big so she tucked half of it into her pants. He bit down on his lip and a wave of lust hit her hard. She wanted to feel nauseous from the pinewood scent of his shirt, but she couldn’t deny a perverse pleasure in it. What is happening to me?
Her dignity forced her to thank him. He smiled faintly.
She looked up at the sky. At least five hours till dawn. She had plenty of time to follow the Slayer’s trail before finding a safe place to rest for the day.
She started north then Cristian stopped her, blocking her path. With his eyes narrowed he demanded, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“North. I’m following the Slayer’s trail.”
He arched a brow. “You have no weapons.”
“I am a weapon.”
Amusement danced in his eyes before he pushed it back in favor of a stern glare. “We made a deal. We’ll discuss strategy first then we’ll follow him together.”
“I was obviously delusional from lack of blood. I don’t make deals with werewolves.” She tried to step around him but he moved with her.
“Does honor mean nothing to you?”
She bared her teeth as pressure built in her chest like a volcano. “You want to talk to me about honor, werewolf? What honor is there in stealing children from their families and killing them in the lonely woods? What honor is there in hiring yourself to do the dirty work of a group of pious sorcerers starting war with every supernatural race? What honor is there in beating a woman, supposedly his mate, within inches of her life and leaving her to die while the pack watches her plead for mercy?” She stepped toward him, fire burning in her eyes. Her chest heaved with angry breaths. “Werewolves don’t extend mercy. Neither do I.”
She expected anger. She wanted anger. But Cristian’s eyes softened, sympathy turning his mouth into a frown. He trailed a finger down her cheek. Her body froze under his touch. “What happened to you, Talia? What werewolf wronged you to create such hate?”
The answer almost slipped from her tongue. She clenched her jaw then slapped his hand away. “None of your business. Just don’t lecture me about honor. I have none.”
All traces of sympathy faded in an instant. “You’re not doing this alone, vampire.” His expression was immovable – an alpha stare if she ever saw one. “You’re a good fighter, but I’m stronger. Don’t force me to prove it.”
She weighed her options carefully. There was no doubt the werewolf would follow her every step of the way, no matter what she said. She would kill a man for less. Her gaze travelled the length of him, noting the way his muscles bulged when he flexed. Yes, he was stronger. But was he faster? Her body twitched, readying to find out.
He must’ve read her intention because he grabbed her. His grip was unyielding around her upper arm, but his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Don’t run, Talia. Work with me. Take a chance. What do you have to lose?”
Their gazes locked and she couldn’t seem to tear hers away.
“More importantly, what do you have to gain? How bad do you want this guy? What are you willing to do to stop the murder of innocent children?”
Anything. She would do anything. Sneaky werewolf hit the right spot.
She sighed and her resolve fell away. By the way he dropped her arm and stepped back with a satisfied smile, he knew it too. “All right. We’ll try it. But the minute it gets uncomfortable, I’m out.”
He chuckled. “Oh, Natalia, I guarantee it will be very uncomfortable.”
Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand and pulled her through the trees.
“Come. One of my pack camps is close by. I’ve been meaning to check up on them anyway.”
“Your pack? You mean you’re an alpha?” This would be more than just uncomfortable.
He grinned. “No honey, I’m the alpha.”
She cursed under her breath. “That explains so much.”
Chapter 10
“This is the worst idea ever,” Natalia said as they drove west toward one of Cristian’s pack ranger sites. The man was delusional to think this would end well.
He smirked. “Scared?”
“Of a pack of mangy mutts?” She shook her head. “I think not.” She shifted in her seat. Unsettled, maybe.
A low growl started in the back of his throat. “I grow weary of your insults, Natalia.”
The corner of her mouth turned up. “Good. Then let me out. Otherwise, get used to it.”
“No.”
She turned to glare at him. “No?”
“No. Every time you insult me, I’ll demand a kiss.” His lips twitched.
She arched a brow. “Demand?” A vision of Cristian pushing her up against a tree and stealing a kiss with firm hands and a growl slipped into her mind. Her stomach fluttered at the unwelcome image. She licked her lips, remembering his earthy taste.
He smirked. “I think you like the idea of me demanding things from you.”
She fough
t back the rush of blood to her cheeks. “No, werewolf. You’re getting me mixed up with your pack. I’m not some submissive female falling at your furry paws in worship. Your alpha status means nothing to me.”
The chaffing smirk didn’t leave his face. “We’ll see.” He turned the jeep down a dirt road. “By the way, you owe me a kiss for your furry paw comment.”
She snorted. “Not on your life, Fido.”
“That’s two.” He grinned. “Keep racking them up. All the better for me.”
She ignored him. The trees thinned and a row of quaint, wooden cabins appeared, bordering a primitive, rocky parking lot. Cristian pulled up next to three other jeeps and shut off the ignition.
“Remember where you are,” he told her before opening the door. “Don’t say anything stupid. It’ll be harder for me to save your ass if something goes wrong.” He looked her over and frowned. “Actually, it’s probably best if you just keep quiet.”
She rolled her eyes. “You mean there won’t be a welcoming party?” The cool air swept her breath away when she opened the door. “Contrary to what you may think, I can handle myself. I’ve been alive centuries longer than you.” The last part was a guess, but experience proved she was older than most werewolves.
“A miracle, at best,” he muttered and strolled ahead.
“I heard that.”
The camp was as primitive as the rocky road that led to it. The floodlight above the painted wooden Forest Ranger sign on the building was the only working electricity she could see. Of course with the almost full moon it was bright without the exterior lights. And the closer it got to the new moon, the closer the werewolves would get to true wolves – their eyesight keener, reflexes faster, hearing more acute. They’d feel the urge to shift and run, expelling magical energy as they went. It was a beautiful thing to see. Well, it had been at one time.
Natalia followed Cristian as he strode past the line of cabins. He walked with purpose, assessing everything as he went, appraising the men he passed with both judging intimidation and respect. Typical alpha, though he lacked the smothering ego of most. Behind the cabins an empty fire pit sat lonely in the chilly air. Harsh faces turned to her, one-by-one in expressions of disgust. Cristian ignored them, even when a few spit in her direction. How cliché.