by Cynthia Eden
Reece fell to the ground, gasping.
Her attention snapped to the shooter. To the man who was striding slowly out of those woods. To the guy who looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“What have you done?” Ella whispered.
“Don’t worry, he’s not dead,” Eric said. “I didn’t aim for the heart or the head. The silver will keep him down and the little…drug…that Holly added to the mix will keep him out until my men can transport him to containment.”
Her wings fluttered behind her. Fury still rode her hard, so those wings weren’t about to shift away. Good. I’ll need them to take me out of here.
Because if she didn’t move, fast, Eric’s men would be arriving and transporting her to containment, too.
“Stay away from me.”
“Keegan is alive. I heard the guy’s words, Ella.” He advanced slowly. Completely, not staying away. Someone couldn’t follow directions well. “You need me.”
“If you heard him…” Her gaze cut around them. “Then you should know…others are here.”
“No, he was probably just bluffing, there’s no sign of—”
Five fully shifted werewolves sprang from the trees. Ella screamed and immediately flew straight up into the air but—but there was a blast, as if someone had fired a gun—and a thick, heavy net circled her.
As soon as the net touched her skin, Ella knew she was in trouble. Her body began to sag as it reacted to the gold in that net. Clever bastards. Not heavy gold, just the faintest threads, but enough to do serious damage to her.
She screamed again, this time in pain.
“Ella!”
Through the netting, she saw Eric shooting at the wolves. He aimed with deadly accuracy and didn’t so much as flinch when they rushed at him.
Bam.
One down.
Bam.
Another.
Ba—
The remaining wolves slammed into Eric and he went down in a swirl of growls and snarls as the beasts attacked him.
“No!” Ella yelled. “No, stop it! Let him go! Stop!” Fury pounded through her, and her wings stretched a bit more. The gold burned them, melting into her wings and she cried out in agony.
And then…
The werewolves who’d attacked Eric were tossed through the air. One hit the ground and gave a faint whimper.
Another—another slammed into a tree. He bounced back up quickly, and then he ran straight for Eric once more. Eric didn’t have his gun any longer, and he grabbed at the wolf with both hands, holding tightly to the beast. They rolled on the ground, twisting and turning, and the wolf snapped at Eric with bared fangs. Ella was helpless, trapped in that golden net, feeling it burn her wings. The gold would forever mark them now, just as it had in the past when she’d been captured.
“Eric…” He was her only hope. If he didn’t beat that wolf, then she’d be taken. So would her wings.
The wolf sank his teeth into Eric’s shoulder. “Eric!” Ella screamed. A werewolf bite was fatal to a human, and if it didn’t kill the prey—
Eric’s not human. You know that. You know—
Eric’s hand drove down toward his ankle. When his hand came back up, she caught the glint of metal. Silver. He swiped out with his blade. Blood splattered in an arc. And then he hit his prey again. Not swiping this time, but driving the knife straight at the snarling werewolf.
Then…silence.
Ella glanced around. The werewolves were down. Eric had taken them all. And now he was rising. Bleeding, but rising, and he was heading toward her.
She was crouched on the ground. That stupid net was all around her. Utterly helpless, she just waited to see what would happen next.
Containment. He’ll take me back. He’ll lock me up—
“The deal…” Eric muttered, sounding slightly out of breath. Slightly. After he’d just taken down a whole pack. “Is still…on the table…”
She blinked up at him. Ella felt tears on her cheeks. When had she started to cry?
“I…help you,” Eric continued. “You…help me.”
In that moment, she would have agreed to anything.
“Say it,” Eric pushed. “Say—”
“Deal.”
He ripped the net off her. She cried out in pain as the gold seemed to be ripped right from her wings. Then the shift pushed through her because the pain was too great. Her body heaved and twisted on the ground as the transformation swept over her. The back of her shirt tore even more, and the top fell away from her as she lay on the ground, crying in pain and hating so much…
What she was.
What had happened to her.
“Deal,” Eric’s voice was oddly soft. He reached down and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her up and held her against his chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She kept her lashes closed because she didn’t want to see his expression. Not then. Pity was an emotion she’d always hated to the depths of her being. She was fine with others fearing her. Or hating her.
But pitying her?
Hell, no.
Then she heard the fast thud of footsteps. It sounded as if a dozen men were rushing their way. More of the pack? She hadn’t caught their scent before and now—
“They’re coming!” Ella said as her eyes flew open. Frantic, her gaze locked on Eric’s.
There’s no pity there. It was hard to say just what emotion filled his stare, but she knew with certainty, it wasn’t pity.
“My men,” Eric told her. “My back-up. They’ll take care of the wolves.” Then he turned, and still carrying her, he headed into the woods once more. “And I’ll take care of you.”
That was nice. Such sweet words. It was a pity they were a lie. He didn’t want to take care of her. He wanted to use her. And because she’d made a deal with him—does he know more about my kind than he’s saying? She certainly thought so—there would be no running away. They were bound now, until the deal had ended.
So she didn’t fight his hold. Her body slumped against his. “I’ll need blood again,” she said. “And not the drugged crap, either.” Just so they were clear.
“Don’t worry. My blood isn’t drugged.”
His blood? He was offering his blood to her again?
She didn’t speak, not until they’d reached that little bar again. And, sure enough, lots of Para Unit Agents had swarmed the place.
“Sir—” A man with deep coffee skin rushed toward Eric.
“Assist in rounding up and securing all the werewolves on scene, Lawrence. Collar them. They need one serious silver lockdown.”
She shivered. Ella knew all about the collars—silver collars that were placed around a werewolf’s neck in order to keep the beast under control. During her captivity with Keegan, she’d heard him raging about those. Anything that made werewolves weak…it had pissed off Keegan.
“And make sure,” Eric added, his voice close to a snarl, “that any humans here are briefed with our standard cover story.”
“Yes, sir!” The fellow hurried away.
“Cover story?” Ella asked. She was so weak. That gold netting had hurt her badly. Now Eric would know of her weakness. Silver hurt werewolves, and gold weakened her kind. Would he immediately fashion a gold net to trap her? No doubt, his men would retrieve the net from the woods. But maybe they wouldn’t stop with just a net. The Para Unit was so clever. No, Eric was clever. Maybe he’d just create a golden collar to control her, too.
I have to get away from him.
Unfortunately, her vow wouldn’t make it easy.
Once her kind gave a vow, they were compelled to keep it. Whether that vow was for good or evil, it would be done.
“The cover story is a gas leak. They happen, you know.” He held her easily as he walked toward a black SUV that waited a good distance away from the bar. “People get light-headed and they imagine all kinds of things after an exposure. Gas, carbon monoxide. We toss out different explanations to vary things up.”
Her lips twisted. “Humans don’t believe that.”
He paused and glanced down at her. She hadn’t noticed just how strong and hard his jaw was, not until that moment. “It’s easier to believe that. Safer. Gas leaks can be explained. You don’t have to fear them, twenty-four seven. But real-life monsters with super human strength? Most humans don’t want to believe in them, so they just…don’t.”
Denial. Yes, she supposed that had helped to keep the paranormals secret for so long.
“What in the hell…?”
That sharp voice drew her gaze to the right. Connor was there, standing just beside the now open passenger door of the SUV.
“What happened to her?” Connor asked.
She felt the breeze on her shoulders. Ella glanced down. Her shirt was pretty much gone. Her wings had just cut right through the back, and when she’d shifted that second time—returning to what she thought of as semi-normal—the back had been shredded again. It wasn’t a big surprise that the fabric had fallen away. At least she was still wearing her bra. Mostly. And even as she had that thought, the bra fell. Hell.
Connor’s eyes had turned to slits as he stared at her exposed skin. “Are those burn marks?”
Oh. He hadn’t been focused on her nudity. Made sense. The guy was mated and all. She’d seen his mate the night he’d pulled her from that basement. Connor’s mate had nearly died, and he’d pretty much gone insane before Ella’s eyes.
I wanted to repay my debt to him, so I gave the woman my blood.
“They are burns,” Eric said, his voice hard. “Those werewolves were waiting with a gold net to trap her.”
“Why would gold hurt her?” Connor asked.
She almost rolled her eyes. Why would silver hurt a werewolf? It just does. No, actually, there was a reason. Precious metals had great power within them. Enough power to chain nearly any beast.
“I don’t know,” Eric said. “But I will be finding out.” Then he put her on the passenger seat. She’d avoided looking at her arms because she hadn’t wanted to see those burns, but now her gaze fell. Dark, red lines cut across her skin. Over and over. And—
Eric yanked off his shirt and—very gently—he put it over her, covering her upper body. “Leave us alone, Connor,” he ordered, his voice brisk. “You supervise the team out here. Make sure every werewolf in the vicinity is rounded up and brought in for containment.”
“Right.” Connor hurried away.
Ella swallowed and glanced up at Eric. “What happens now?” Not back to containment. Not back to—
“Will fresh blood make those marks go away?”
“Healing will, yes.”
He offered his wrist to her. Just…right there. With his agents swarming all around. She knew there was supposed to be a stigma associated with the vamp bite. Most people sure didn’t offer themselves up as blood donors to the undead. Not willingly—they took some convincing. Or, in the case of frat boys, some drinking and flirting.
She didn’t understand him. “Eric?”
“I don’t want you in pain anymore.” Each word seemed torn from him. “Take the blood.”
Her fingers rose and curled around his wrist. But she didn’t bring his wrist—and his tempting blood—closer to her mouth. Not yet. “Why does my pain matter to you?” It certainly hadn’t mattered to anyone else before.
His gaze seemed to darken as he stared at her. “I don’t know, but it does. You can’t hurt. Not while I’m near. I won’t let it happen.”
The way he was talking…no, no, it couldn’t be. Not him. Not me. It won’t happen.
“Drink from me,” Eric said. “Do it now.”
The way he was hunched over her…maybe no one would be able to tell what they were doing. It might just look as if he were tending to her wounds. Not offering his blood to her.
She brought his hand to her mouth. Her tongue licked against his wrist, a move that she hadn’t planned.
His breath hissed out.
And her teeth sank into him.
Their gaze held as she drank. His blood was just as rich and hot as before—just as addictive, but she made herself only take a few sips. She just needed a little…
The wave of desire she felt for him took her off-guard. The white-hot need that pulsed through her veins wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to taste him and just want.
But she did. Her heart raced. Her breasts tightened. Her sex grew wet.
Wrong place. Wrong man.
So why did he feel so right?
I am in serious trouble.
“Ella…” His voice was gravel-rough, and she knew desire when she heard it. A rough lust that made her ache inside.
Her tongue slid over his wrist once more and she pulled back. Her breath was coming too fast, and her teeth were still too sharp.
“We’re going to be together,” Eric said as he still leaned inside the passenger door. “We both know that.”
Ella shook her head. “No, you—” She stopped as shame burned through her.
“I—what?”
“It’s just the bite. It makes you want me. It’s the way it’s designed.” Ella didn’t want a lover that way. She wanted a man who desired her—no strings attached. No addictive bite needed.
He laughed, and the sound seemed to slide right over her, making her shiver. Not with fear, but with something a whole lot hotter. “It’s not the bite. I wanted you long before you took your first taste of me.” His eyes glinted. “Now I wonder, when will I get a taste of you?”
Her breath caught.
Eric’s jaw locked and he backed up. Then he shut the passenger door. She watched him march around to the front of the vehicle. His voice was strong as he called out orders to his team. More vehicles were arriving. Containment was in full effect there.
She glanced down at her arms. Ella pushed his shirt aside. The burns were already fading as his blood gave her power. Too much power.
What is he? She’d spent so many years protecting her own secrets that she’d forgotten there were other beings out there like her.
Hope began to stir within her. Maybe, just maybe…Eric could be the one she’d been waiting for. So many years. Was it even possible?
Ella glanced through the windshield. He was staring at her. She pulled his shirt back up, inhaling his scent with a pleasure she shouldn’t feel.
He knew about the bond formed from a promise. He wasn’t controlled by my bite.
She couldn’t take her gaze off him.
Maybe…maybe Eric knew so much because he was just like her.
Finally…a mate? Was it even possible?
He stalked around the car. Climbed into the driver’s seat. And he started to crank the engine. Her hand flew out and her fingers wrapped around his. “Don’t lock me up again.”
He stared down at her hand. Did he feel the heat surge when they touched? She did, and she’d never felt anything like that before. It was off the charts. It was amazing…
And, again, the tempting thought danced through her mind once more…
Mate.
Impossible. Wasn’t it?
“I won’t,” Eric said. “I won’t lock you up.”
Her breath eased out.
He cranked the ignition. She kept touching him. She should stop that. She didn’t. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home.”
That one word was so bittersweet to her. Longing and pain filled Ella, and she didn’t speak again as they pulled away.
***
Keegan James stared down at his skin. Angry burns ravaged his body. There wasn’t a place on him that the fire hadn’t touched. He’d been trapped in that house, a prisoner in the basement as the fire had closed in on him. He’d burned and shifted, over and over in a vicious cycle, as he fought to survive. Eventually, he’d stopped being able to shift. Eventually, he’d stopped being able to heal.
Eventually the fire had stopped.
He’d managed to crawl away then.
Every move had been agony. Every move was still agony. He should have been dead. He knew it. He’d survived for one reason alone—
Ella.
Her blood. She’d made him powerful. For a time, he’d been all powerful. And then the Para Unit had tracked him down. They’d taken Ella.
They’d tried to kill him.
Try harder next time.
Slowly, he walked toward the window and stared out into the night. The clothes scraped against his burns—hurting him. Everything hurt. He knew he looked like a monster. The real stuff of nightmares. He’d tried to call up his beast, but the wolf was silent.
Dead.
But Keegan thought the beast could be born again. If he just had the right tool. And that tool…it was Ella. Magical Ella. His men were out hunting for her even then. He would catch her again. Catch her, cage her, keep her…until he’d taken every single last bit of power from her.
He would be whole again. No matter what he had to do.
The Para Unit wouldn’t win. Ella wouldn’t escape.
And he’d be more than a monster.
Chapter Five
“This…this isn’t home.” Ella’s voice sounded disappointed as she stared up at the sprawling warehouse. “You lied to me.”
He tensed. “Actually, no, I didn’t. This is where I live.” And, yes, it wasn’t cozy and it wasn’t exactly the best neighborhood in the world, but he didn’t live a normal life.
Eric waved to the guard and the gates in front of the warehouse opened.
“This isn’t home,” Ella said once more. Her voice was harder now. “This is another Para Unit facility, isn’t it? Jeez, how many of those places do you have?”
Too many. But the exact number was classified. Instead of answering her, Eric said, “I have an apartment here. My home.” Pretty much the only one he had these days. “Until we can sort things out, you’ll be staying there.” He followed the drive that led into the warehouse. And once they were inside and the heavy doors closed behind them…
It’s not a warehouse. It was a sprawling, multi-level facility. His new primary base for the Para Unit. All hell had been breaking loose in the last few months, and he’d had to regroup with his agents. This place had the highest security. Sure, it was no Purgatory, but it was still pretty damn impenetrable. Werewolves were housed four levels below, kept absolutely secure until their transports. The top two levels were for agents—some apartments, regular offices, even a cafeteria. The FBI had actually created the facility years ago—back when the werewolf situation had first presented itself. Now, the place was finally getting some serious usage.