by Laina Kenney
“So, do we think this Xander is the dealer, or is there someone else he answers to?” Harden asked.
Inside, Balke’s wolf went hunting quiet.
He turned from the compelling painting. If Xander was the dope dealer, that was one issue. If there was another party, someone perhaps with more control and intelligence than to throw tantrums and shout about his valuables, Iselle could be in more danger than he had imagined.
The men sniffed around each room, but no further scent of marijuana or any other drugs were present. Balke noticed that Harden closed his eyes and scented the air as well.
What the hell combination of blood was Harden anyway? He wasn’t exactly human, Balke had always known that much, but what the hell was he? He scented the air like a predator, but he didn’t smell like a wolf or a fox, and the members of the Raven Clan that Balke had met didn’t sniff for information. It wasn’t their way.
“No other drug scents,” Balke said.
“No grass, no coke, nothing,” Harden agreed. “Fresh-baked banana bread and an open bag of Oreos in the cupboard.”
John snorted.
“Harden can smell a cookie from a mile distant. I’m only surprised that you didn’t.”
Balke grinned. “My mate’s scent is everywhere, and my wolf just wants to wallow. Cookies are nothing compared to that.”
John pinned him with a look.
“Yeah, I got that she was your mate at the dump. But she’s human.”
“Almost a hundred percent human,” said Harden, and Balke stiffened.
“We met at the dump this morning. She has a trace scent of magic, but nothing I can pin down,” Balke said. “She may not even be aware of that part of her heritage. For all the records that humans keep of marriages and births, they do not mention the most important pieces of information.”
Harden sniffed again and so did John. Balke’s wolf lunged at his control, wanting to snarl and bite. He had to breathe away the strong urge to challenge the two males scenting his unclaimed mate.
John nudged Harden and indicated Balke’s claws.
“Lay off, man,” John said. “The wolves are already goddamned twitchy about their mates, and Balke’s mate isn’t claimed yet. Or did you feel like starting an inter-species war today? There are two of us, and only one of him, but it would be hell’s own brawl.”
Harden straightened.
“Sorry, didn’t think about that,” Harden said, holding his hands up in a classic gesture of surrender. “No offense, man.”
“None taken. My control is holding.”
But it took a moment for him to force his claws to retreat and Balke wondered for the first time if he might be lying when he spoke of being in control of his vulfen side. His mate was beautiful and alluring. He could see that any man would find her attractive, and his new emotions were strong and raw.
John raised his eyebrows.
“Good. See that it stays that way. If you lose your shit and attack, I’ll have to shoot you.”
“Aw, here he goes with the shooting threats,” Harden said.
Balke shrugged.
“Your bullets are standard issue human.”
Enough of them could still kill him, but vulfen muscles were tough, and regular bullets just didn’t penetrate far enough inside to do that kind of damage. Balke had been shot once already, and though the bullet didn’t bounce off like in comic books, it had fallen out in less than an hour. There was no scar to mark its place.
“I asked for a fucking elephant gun,” John muttered, “but the Captain said no.”
Balke laughed, but Harden didn’t.
“He seriously asked for an elephant gun?” Balke asked, incredulous.
“Fucking paranoid.” Harden waved his thumb toward John. “But between the pimps and the strung-out dopers, I can’t say it wouldn’t be useful to have more firepower some nights down by the harbor. It’s a great place in the light, but at night it seems like there’s a deal going down in every shadow. It can be touch-and-go down there on a good night. Any hint of weakness and they turn on you in a heartbeat.”
“I didn’t know you were on the drug squad,” Balke said.
Harden grimaced. “We’re not, but they need all the help they can get.”
“And the Captain is part fox,” John said. “So, I didn’t think it would be such a hard sell.”
“How the hell would he explain that to the Mayor?” Balke asked. “I happen to know the Mayor is human.”
“Yeah.” John sounded disappointed, but Balke saw the twinkle in his eye. “The Mayor’s probably the first guy I’d shoot and I think he knows it.”
“Thought it might be me,” Balke said.
John laughed and clapped him on the shoulder hard.
“Naw. You didn’t even make the list.”
John clicked his pen and jotted down some notes.
“He doesn’t really have a list?” Balke asked Harden.
“He does. Four names on it. He blew it up on the copier and used it for target practice until the Captain got wind of it. That was a fun meeting.”
Harden made a sound like an explosion and Balke shook his head, caught between laughter and disbelief.
“We’ll catch St. John, and whoever else is involved with this. You need any help guarding your mate, let us know,” Harden said.
Balke’s wolf lunged again, but he quieted it.
“My thanks, but my Cadre and my brothers will aid me.”
Harden nodded.
“Call if you need anyway.”
“Thanks.”
Chapter 5
After the police left for the second time in one day, Iselle trudged back up the narrow stairs to her apartment.
Balke was on the landing in front of her door.
“Your apartment is clear,” he said. “John would like you to go through it, and let him know if anything of yours was taken.”
Iselle sighed.
“Okay. Emma said he wasn’t up there very long, just a minute or two before he was back pounding on her door.”
She shuddered, thinking of tiny, feisty Emma on the wrong end of a man’s anger.
She didn’t see him move, but Balke was beside her, rubbing soothing circles on her back. She leaned her head against his wide chest and his arms came around her with a satisfying strength. There was an element of danger about him, but the feelings it inspired in her were more gratitude than fear.
Some part of her understood at a level past words that although he might be lethal to others, he represented total safety for her.
“Hush, Iselle. The crisis is over for now, and there will be two cops in a black-and-white patrolling the neighborhood tonight. You are safe, and the police are searching for this Xander.”
“He was in my apartment. He was in it before, when it was his and he lived there, but I feel wrong about it now, because he was in it today and it’s my home now.” Iselle shook her head. “Maybe that doesn’t make sense.”
Maybe Balke wouldn’t understand, and she wasn’t doing a very good job of explaining how she felt. And she was calmer now, after tea and toast with Emma and good-natured Officer Ann Brannigan. But her hands still shook.
“It makes sense. He had no permission to enter your home, so it is a violation on a very primitive level.”
He did understand. Some of her residual tension bled away and she relaxed infinitesimally. He understood.
* * * *
Balke watched his mate walk around her apartment, touching things at random. She had turned on every light and his sensitive eyes protested, but he wouldn’t complain for the world. Her scent exuded a mixture of anger and sorrow, and he sympathized even as he wanted the man’s blood in his mouth.
As a protector for his people, he was familiar with the fallout of crime, the sadness and violation experienced by the victims, but the level of his rage shocked him.
The scent of Xander St. John was an insult to his vulfen senses. He was torn between warring desires.
His wolf had the scent of his enemy and he was ready to go hunting. The wolf believed the human male deserved to be hunted down for frightening his mate. Balke had no argument with that, but it was the man who saw the fine trembling of his mate’s hands and would not leave her.
She was unclaimed, but she was still his.
If all she needed from him was the comfort of another presence while she checked her home and possessions, then that’s what he would offer. The last thing she needed was more pressure.
“I don’t think he took anything of mine,” Iselle said. “He didn’t even really make a mess.”
Balke heard the tremor in her voice and waited.
“If you hadn’t been here—” She swallowed convulsively and started again. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. I wouldn’t know and I would have walked right up.”
“You would have seen the open door.”
Iselle shrugged tightly.
“That’s just it. I might not have. What if I was texting, or talking on my phone? The door wasn’t completely closed, but it wasn’t open more than a sliver. I might not have seen!”
Balke pulled her into his arms and held her hard. Her body was shaking and it tore at his heart.
“Let it out,” he said. “There is no shame in feeling fear. It is a true emotion that keeps people alive.”
Her arms twined around his waist and she burrowed against him like a frightened creature trying to hide.
“Hold on to me. You are safe.”
He knew his voice was gruff and he pressed a kiss to her soft hair.
“Balke.”
Just his name in a soft broken tone, and then tears wet his collar.
He held on and rocked her until the storm passed and with every tear his fury grew.
When the quiet sobs subsided, he reached around and snagged a box of tissues and pressed it into her hand.
With a watery laugh, Iselle dabbed her eyes and blew her nose.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded, but her trembling smile turned upside down on a sigh.
“It’s hard,” she said.
He nodded. “No doubt it is.”
Iselle straightened her slender shoulders.
“Would you like to see my art, now? I promised you a showing, and instead you had to see me fall apart at the seams.”
He stroked back a strand of hair that was stuck to her damp cheek.
“You had reason. And I would love to see more of your art.”
He indicated the painting of the princess watching the black wolf.
“What I have already seen shows me talent and a deep appreciation for the everyday magic in our world.”
“The Maiden and The Wolf. I had just turned twenty when I painted it. That one is pure teenage fantasy,” she said, and he almost contradicted her before he caught himself.
It wasn’t yet time to reveal his dual nature. His mate had stopped crying only moments before, and he didn’t want to see that again for a long time. Every tear from her eyes had wrung his heart out and pumped up his natural wrath until he was killing mad. But his hands on his mate were gentle.
“I like it,” was all he said.
“There was one man, a chef here in Boston, who saw it at my first gallery showing and kept trying to get me to sell. He wanted it for his wife, and he offered a lot of money. And I was still in college then, I needed the money, but I couldn’t part with it.”
“I’m glad you did not sell it.”
Balke framed her face with his hands and lowered his face to brush her soft lips with his. He could still sense the salt from her tears, and though his cock was stubbornly hard, he thought only of offering comfort.
After a moment, her hands came up to cover his and she gave herself over to the kiss with a quiet sigh.
Balke explored the textures of her mouth with slowly increasing pressure until her lips parted and she let him in.
Between one breath and the next the kiss heated into an inferno, a profound journey into fire. The taste of her mouth lured him deeper and he let go and gorged his vulfen senses. He had spent his life searching for her, and his deepest instinct was to savor.
Her hands moved to twine around his neck and pull him closer.
His hands rubbed up and down her supple spine until she was pressed against him from head to heels and all points in between in a fierce, gentle embrace. He licked the erotic fullness of her bottom lip and used his mouth shamelessly to tease her into a reaction.
He heard the rhythm of her breathing change and the sweet spicy scent of her arousal bloomed around him.
She began to follow his movements with her mouth, and a bolt of heat shot straight to his groin. The rolling motion of her hips against him had sweat popping out on his brow.
She was so responsive, he could have her in bed in moments, and she wouldn’t have a chance to think the word “no.” Her body would take over and he would have exactly what he was yearning for, but would that be the best thing for her?
Balke pulled back a little and she followed for another blazing kiss.
“Iselle,” he said in warning.
His wolf was ascending and he was a desperate man with a hard cock and an armful of demanding female.
“Iselle, I think we should stop.”
Chapter 6
Iselle pressed another kiss to his carnal mouth.
“Don’t you dare stop on me now,” she said fiercely. “I haven’t felt like this in”—she paused to try to think, but he had scattered her thoughts with his incredible combination of strength and gentleness—“ever.”
She grabbed two handfuls of his hair and pulled him back to where she wanted him. His mouth was a dark dream she wasn’t ready to give up, and the kiss he gave her then was scorching.
Her hips rocked against his, and she felt the unmistakable ridge that gave evidence his body at least was ready. Her pussy softened in a rush of moisture and she moaned softly. She wanted something she couldn’t name, and she wanted it from him alone.
“Don’t stop.”
Balke drew back to look into her eyes.
“Iselle, we just met. I know how I feel, but I never want to you look back and regret—”
“Please,” she interrupted. “I need you right now. I need you—” She was going to say forever, but she had only met him a few hours ago, and she didn’t want to frighten him away. “I need you,” she repeated.
He dived for her mouth and swept her into his arms.
Iselle’s world turned upside down and then he set her down on the old carved oak bed and stretched out full length on top of her. One powerful leg slid in between hers and she gasped at the fire of her body’s response, so much better in the new position.
His mouth moved to her throat and he licked over her pulse.
“I need you.”
“What’s your hurry?” he asked and she curled into him in silent demand.
He surrounded her. She breathed him in with every inhale and his scent was delicious.
With quick swipes of his hands, he got rid of her shirt and bra then her jeans and panties.
He pulled away for a moment and came back naked. He took hold of her wrists and slowly pulled her hands over her head until she moaned and rubbed her breasts unashamedly against his hard chest.
One muscled leg insinuated itself between hers and massaged in circles. The rough hair over the hard muscle of his leg teased her every bit as much as his hot mouth sucking at her nipple.
She whimpered and twisted slowly in the fire of his touch.
Iselle’s thighs fell open around his hips, exposing the tender entrance to her body. He had her pinned beneath his rock hard heat until all she could do was to curve up to him and ask for more. And he delivered more than she had ever thought possible.
With one quick twist of his narrow hips, he penetrated her body and held there, halfway inside. She panted, but she couldn’t drag in enough air. He felt huge, and he wasn’t even inside her all the way.
&nbs
p; He gripped her hips and pushed firmly into her abundant wetness. Her helpless cry at his invasion was muffled against the thick muscle of his shoulder. He was too big and her body arched involuntarily, trying to adjust. The movement pulled him deeper, and suddenly they fit.
She breathed out a sigh that was his name.
As he began to move, his thickness stretched her pussy a little at a time and sent heat glittering up through her belly.
She had always thought of green as a cool color, but now her body burned in the brilliant light of his eyes.
Eyes locked, Balke rocked into her softness over and over in shallow thrusts that drove her mad until she was rising to meet his body with every solid entry. The slick glide of his flesh into hers made her skin tingle in reaction.
He leaned in close and nibbled on her earlobe with careful teeth. Heat flooded through her from her nipples to her pussy and she gasped. Who knew that ears could be so sensitive?
She arched and begged, demanding more and more. She tried to speed him up, but he held to his leisurely pace no matter what she did to entice him. Beyond thought, she cried out and bounced under his busy hands and hot clever mouth.
Her world spun in slow circles to the rhythm he commanded.
She grabbed the hair at the back of his head to have something concrete to hold onto and pulled his mouth back to that spot on her throat where he had tormented her just moments ago. He groaned harshly in her ear then his mouth fastened on the tender spot with electrifying pressure.
Iselle anchored one hand in his hair and held him to her throat as sensation swamped her and she moaned long and high.
Looking for purchase, her other hand slid on his sweat-slick shoulders and down. With a rising moan, she gripped his thrusting hips, riding the momentum of his powerful body as he lunged slow and hard, over and over.
Thighs trembling, mouth open on a soundless cry, she detonated into an explosion of stars.
Behind her eyelids, the light faded into blindness, and she couldn’t catch her breath even to say his name.
“Again,” he said, panting as he thrust once hard and held there. She couldn’t possibly. She would have protested if she had been able to speak, but his body jerked in her arms and her body shimmered and convulsed at his command.