Tears streamed down her face in scalding waves, and Ruri had to sit before her knees gave out. Her back slid down the side of the island until she hit the floor with a thud. She clenched her hands into fists just as claws burst through her fingertips. Her jaw ached and she inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get her wolf under control. The wolf paid her no mind, trying to shoulder its way out of her body. Canines sprouted and her mouth filled with iron and salt. Ruri whined, high and pained at the eruption of the teeth and the loss of her pack. The wolf twisted and snapped inside her, trying to get through the last of her barriers.
An arm settled hesitantly around Ruri’s shoulders, quieting her wolf for a moment. She stiffened and Malice twitched her hand back. Panicking that she might withdraw altogether, Ruri grabbed her wrist and held it.
“Please,” she said quietly. Malice hesitated for a moment longer before settling her arm again. Ruri was only too aware of Malice’s body pressed against hers through the too-thin T-shirt. Trying to keep her mind off the disquieting feelings swirling inside her and kicking up a curl of traitorous heat in the pit of her stomach, Ruri greedily absorbed her warmth. She kept her hand on Malice’s arm and pulled it more snugly around her. She was still crying, but it was different now. Pain shared was pain halved, her mother used to say. It was a saying she hadn’t really understood until she’d been part of a pack. That was gone, and Malice most assuredly wasn’t pack material, but for the moment it felt good to pretend.
Chapter Eighteen
The contact wasn’t unwelcome, but Mary Alice found herself unable to relax completely, though some part of her desperately wanted to. The only times she was this close to a supra were moments before dispatching one or her interactions with Carla. The latter didn’t feel so bad, if she was to be completely honest with herself; sometimes they even felt really good. That’s not real, she reminded herself harshly. Carla had the power to roll her mind, to make her feel things she didn’t want to.
But this, what she had right now, this felt right. Ruri was offering something she hadn’t realized she needed so much until it was right in front of her. It had been maybe a week since she’d discovered Cassidy in her apartment, but it felt like she had been laboring under the burden of her sister’s attack for months.
She should have pulled her arm back, but the desperation in Ruri’s eyes matched her own. Instead Mary Alice—Malice, destroyer of supras—held on to her as she cried softly.
Eventually the lycan’s tears subsided into quiet sniffles. She seemed content to cuddle up against Mary Alice’s side, secure in the shelter of her arms. However, now that she’d stopped crying, Mary Alice was getting twitchy.
“Ruri is a pretty name.” The statement popped out without conscious thought. It was true, it was pretty and it suited the blond werewolf. On the surface it was innocuous enough, but there was an edge to the name. “Is it short for anything?”
“Not that I know of. My parents were from Iceland. I think one of my grandmothers was also called Ruri.” She gave one final sniff and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “They wanted something that reminded them of the old country. While other settlers from Iceland called their kids more American-sounding names, my parents had other ideas.”
“Settlers?”
“That’s what I said. They were some of the first to come over and establish a farm on the frontier.”
The frontier? Who even talked about the frontier anymore, unless they were talking about space? How old was Ruri, anyway? They’d been told lycans likely had prolonged life spans, though nothing like the near-immortality experienced by very lucky—or very ruthless—vamps. However, it had been offered as a theory rather than a known fact. Not surprisingly, lycans did poorly in captivity and tended to die when held for any period of time. The pressure of Cassidy’s situation bore down on her all over again. She couldn’t keep her in that box forever because she would waste away, but if Mary Alice let Cassidy out in the shape she was in, Malice would have to kill her.
“I’ve been in this country a very long time.” Ruri shifted again, enough for Mary Alice to feel her breasts moving against her side. Another flash of heat sparked in her groin.
“I guess.” She closed her eyes. This was not good, so not good. “How long is that, exactly?” The question was blurted out from a confused need to keep Ruri’s barely clothed form from her mind while not letting go of her any sooner than she had to. Visions of her naked in Mary Alice’s bed intruded no matter how hard she tried not to go there.
“Long enough.” The openness was gone from her face. Ruri’s eyes were opaque, like tiger’s eye marbles. A ring of brilliant gold sprang to life around the center of her irises.
Mary Alice watched, fascinated as the gold bled to consume Ruri’s iris. She’d never seen a lycan’s eyes change in quite that way. There had been a time or two when she’d ambushed one and their eyes had shifted in the space between moments, but this was a slow bleed.
“If you’re not going to make a move, then I will.”
Mary Alice blinked. The hunger in Ruri’s voice surprised her. Her response surprised her almost as much. She tightened her arms, pulling Ruri to her, and stared into her beautiful molten gold eyes. “I…can’t.” Shame flooded her. How could she even contemplate sleeping with a supra?
What about Carla? a traitorous voice whispered from the corner of her mind. Admit it, you wouldn’t mind if she tumbled you onto your back and fucked you sideways.
That’s different, she shot back. Carla had mind powers, Ruri didn’t. There was no explanation for what she felt now. It was wrong. Worse than wrong.
But why? Surely there were worse things, like taking someone’s sister, penning her up and experimenting upon her until she died. “Like I would ever.” Mary Alice sneered at the female and let her go, pushing her away as she did.
“Come on, Mary, you need this as much as I do. Let go of yourself for a little bit. You’ll feel better. I’ll feel better. What’s wrong with that?”
Stung by the accuracy of her comment, Mary Alice stood up. Ruri had to scramble to keep from being dumped on the floor.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I have better things to do than spend my time whoring around with a mongrel.” She spun on her heel and headed for the door.
“Clearly,” Ruri yelled at her back. “Which is why you smell like you need a good fuck right here and now.”
Mary Alice raised her hand behind her and proudly saluted the lycan with her middle finger. She held it until she was through the doorway and down the hall. There was no sound of pursuit, but she still broke into a jog, then to a run. She took the stairs three at a time and burst through the door into her studio. With a heave that would have sent a lighter door through its frame, she slammed the metal door. The resounding clang echoed hollowly through the stairwell.
She leaned back against the door with a frustrated shriek, almost a howl. Why did the damn wolf have to be so right? She needed to be touched, to touch, to let someone else inside her walls for long enough to be held by something other than her own sheer force of will. A nice uncomplicated fucking would have done the trick, and if Ruri had been anything other than the lycan she was holding captive, she would have taken her up on it.
In fact, she would have her fingers buried deep in the woman’s pussy right now. Her center clenched in response at the thought and she let out a strangled whimper. She could feel the wetness between her thighs demanding to be satisfied. With feverish haste, she ripped open the front of her pants and gasped with relief when her fingertips skated through slick folds to graze the tip of her clit.
She clenched her eyes shut against the sensation shooting through her core, and then opened them just as quickly. Golden eyes held hers. There’s no way I’m attracted to one of them. Mary Alice was glad she hadn’t said the words aloud to hear how hollow they sounded. How could she be feeling this way for a monster? The female was something who would as soon tear out her throat as look at her; that was what s
he’d always been trained to believe. Not far below the surface of each supra was a ravening beast, worse than an animal. So far all she’d seen below Ruri’s surface was a woman who’d had her family torn from her and was determined to rebuild it.
Her fingers had stilled and she drew them over herself again, chasing release. The whimper that came from her throat was nothing compared to what she was sure Ruri could have pulled from her.
“Goddamn…fucking…human!” Ruri tasted blood in her mouth. Her gums were shifting as the teeth within them lengthened. What had gone wrong? Malice had smelled of arousal, warm and moist. Ruri’s wolf paced restlessly beneath her skin. She needed to be calmed, and sex would have been a quick way to take the edge off. The wolf liked Malice, saw something in her that reminded her of them. There was something wolf-like in the way Malice protected her sister at all costs. Her pack was small, but she held it as surely as any Alpha Ruri had ever met.
When she’d propositioned the Hunter, the scent of arousal swirling between them had swelled until she had to stop herself from panting, to draw it over her tongue and into her nasal passages. It had been fine until the spike of fear had shot through Malice’s scent, acrid and sharp. Ruri wrinkled her nose at the memory of the smell. The wolf’s pacing increased, her fur rubbing spikily on the underside of Ruri’s skin. She wanted to be let out, but Ruri wasn’t about to allow that to happen, not when she wasn’t sure what the wolf would do.
She leaned her head back and rested it on the back of the worn couch. Staring sightlessly up at the exposed girders of the ceiling far above her head, Ruri wondered what the fear was in response to. The woman had an explosive device shackled to her ankle, for crying out loud. If anyone had a right to be frightened, it was Ruri. And yet, she couldn’t quite bring herself to fear Malice. Mary Alice. Ruri snickered. The Hunter’s real name was unexpected. It was feminine and…pretty. The farm girls she’d known as a child had similar names. Malice was anything but a farm girl. She was impressive to be certain, but scary?
Ruri shook her head. The woman would blow off her foot if she wasn’t useful to her. How long would she survive as a lone wolf with three legs? Not long, there was no question. And yet, Malice was diligent about making sure she didn’t get close to missing the deadline for resetting the device. Surely she wouldn’t let it go off if Ruri did everything she could for the sister, even if it didn’t work out.
Certainly, she wasn’t going to risk losing her limb, and throwing that odious man off their scent had been part of that. If Malice got herself injured or killed and couldn’t deactivate the device, Ruri would also pay. The fear that had threaded through Mary Alice’s attraction to her had been nothing compared to the terror that had obliterated all other scents when the lift had started up.
The ache in her gums subsided, replaced by the need to move around and stretch her legs. There was no way she could leave the building. What she really needed was a run and a kill, since it seemed sex was currently out of the question. While she didn’t think Malice would really blow her leg off, she wasn’t prepared to test it by leaving.
At least this was something she could do herself. She slipped a hand down the front of the loose pants and smiled bitterly. She was dressed for the activity.
The space between her thighs was so hot she wondered that she hadn’t already combusted. Ruri clamped her legs together, rocking against her hand. The delicious friction against her clit was good, but not nearly enough. With her other hand, Ruri roughly squeezed one erect nipple through the sheer fabric of Mary Alice’s shirt. She bit her lip at the pain and the answering bolt of pleasure in her belly.
“Dammit, Malice,” Ruri whispered. Her eyes drifted shut and she could see the human’s sober face behind her eyelids. It didn’t take much to imagine Mary Alice with her eyes intent on her, dark with pleasure. The wicked look she’d given her earlier had promised another side to the Hunter, one that could be very fun to explore. “Take me, Mary,” she breathed.
She slipped first one finger, then another inside of herself. The pressure had built to levels impossible to deny. Sweat trickled between her breasts and she tweaked then flicked her nipple, gritting her teeth at the delicious combination of discomfort and euphoria. Her canal was slick and her fingertips slid over that rough spot at the front, once, twice, again and again.
“God, yes!” Her hips jerked of their own volition, driving her fingers deeper inside her until they could go no further. “Malice!” She came in a rush of fluid around her fingers, howling her captor’s name at the ceiling.
She imagined Malice’s arms pulling her close, but phantom arms were as close as she would ever get to being held by the Hunter. Sated for the moment, her wolf slumbered, curled comfortably around her center, and Ruri sobbed for the bonds she couldn’t build.
“Ruri, oh god, Ruri!” Mary Alice hissed the words through clenched teeth, her back braced against the door and her knees locked to stay upright. She threw her head back, barely feeling it when it thunked solidly into the unyielding metal surface. The fingers flying over her clit paused for a second before redoubling their efforts.
She had her eyes tightly shut, despite—or maybe because of—the golden eyes that watched from behind her eyelids. They blazed brighter and brighter as she got closer to the brink of orgasm. Finally, when she came in a shout of triumph, they seared her vision, so much so that she expected to see the afterimage when she slowly came back to reality and opened them.
This wasn’t where she’d started out. Or it wasn’t the same position she’d started out in. Her knees must have given out when she came and she hadn’t even noticed. She sat in a heap, back against the door. Wondering at the strength of the orgasm, Mary Alice stretched slowly. She was relaxed in a way she hadn’t been in quite some time.
She froze. Upstairs, Ruri was howling her name in anger.
Chapter Nineteen
Cassidy shifted in her box. She burrowed into the scraps of cloth in the corner. Unhappiness filled every corner of the place, but for once it wasn’t all hers. Her sister and the new one were miserable. The angular scents of anger and fear made her nose wrinkle and she sneezed.
How could she even smell those things? Emotions were something you felt and could maybe pick out on someone else’s face and in their body language. The smells were so vivid, her other senses seemed almost dull by comparison. They had colors and texture, which confused her because she couldn’t see them, and yet there they were. Anger was all oranges and reds swirling together unpredictably, never stopping, never slowing. Fear was different. It smelled just as spiky and seemed red, but darker. It moved, but not like anger. It almost stuttered along, barely shifting, then changing between one moment and the next.
Beneath it all was one she couldn’t identify as easily. It was mellow and low, lush and full in shades of green and blue. She had to taste that one for a while before identifying it. The anger and fear got in the way. When she figured it out, she wanted to chuckle but couldn’t remember how. Mary or the new one was turned on, or they both were.
Mary Alice had sex, Cassidy knew that, but she never really thought about it. The thought was strange and not one she wanted to contemplate too closely. It was almost as bad as thinking about her mom making love. She shuddered once under her blanket of torn cloth, then again for real when the fabric brushed against skin that felt strange naked. There should be something over it, but not those clothes. They restricted her, kept her from moving freely.
The new one—now Cassidy could envision her having sex. The urge to present herself to her was growing stronger as the days went by, though sometimes she dreamed of the other presenting herself to her. Cassidy didn’t know what was going on. She’d had the occasional female friend that she’d fooled around with, but she certainly wasn’t the staunch lesbian her sister was. For the most part, she preferred men. Women were fine, fun even, but usually what she wanted was to be taken by a man. And yet here she was, contemplating taking a woman.
The scen
t of arousal was getting stronger, slowly overtaking the smell of anger. Cassidy whimpered, the feelings of lust she was feeling intensified and she could do nothing about them. She didn’t dare touch herself, not with fingers tipped with wicked claws. Bringing herself to release wouldn’t satisfy the relentless need she felt burning within her anyway.
Frustration burst from her in a scream that went on and on. Gooseflesh rippled across her skin and muscles writhed beneath, but nothing happened. She was so tired of being on the edge. Either way she went, it needed to stop.
Her throat felt shredded and Cassidy realized she was still screaming. She closed her mouth, swallowing the scream, drowning it inside herself once again.
On the heels of her name, so close that it almost overlapped it, Mary Alice became aware of another scream. This one lingered, and it couldn’t possibly be Ruri.
“Cassidy.” She whirled and ripped the door open in one motion. The stairs flew by under her feet and she hit the door at the top of the stairs at a full sprint with her hand held out. It sprang open from the stiff-arm and slammed into the wall. Bits of masonry rained down and she dimly realized the handle had likely split the bricks behind it. The steel door was warped where she’d hit it, but that wasn’t important. What was important was getting to her sister.
She skidded to a stop in front of the box. The door was open. The locks had been ripped off it and were in scattered pieces on the floor. The door was still intact and leaned crazily away from the opening, still partially attached to the hinge and bolt that had held it in place.
Ruri was down on her knees in the far corner with Cassidy wrapped up in her arms. Thankfully, she wasn’t screaming any longer. Mary Alice had heard enough of Cassidy’s howls to last her a lifetime. Her sister’s arms were wrapped around herself and Mary Alice could see where her nails had torn the flesh of her shoulders. Those same shoulders shook with heaving sobs.
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