by Aline Hunter
She started jogging, knowing she had to move fast.
It wouldn’t be long before the game was up and her would-be suitor discovered he’d been ditched.
Chapter Four
Arden pounded on a door that was too blurry for her liking, hoping her luck was about to change for the better. She’d managed to travel to a safe place but she couldn’t relax. Not yet. She needed time to sort through everything that had happened. In order to do that, she had to put her fate in the hands of someone who had the power to help her. Despite being someone she knew to fear, he was also her only friend. She’d put her life in his hands before. Hopefully he wouldn’t kill her for doing so again.
A warlock judge—the deadliest of all wizards.
Heavy stomping from within indicated she’d lucked out.
Thank God. Trevor’s home.
“I’m coming, I’m coming! Hold on to your water.” The chain latch came undone, and the door opened with a swoosh of air. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?”
She ignored the question, brushed past the man in her path and stomped into the apartment. The trip through the business district had been hell to navigate, but she knew the layout of Trevor’s apartment well enough to dodge obstacles in her way. She hauled ass, heading for the back patio where he kept a small garden.
“Answer me, damn it,” Trevor ordered. She heard him close the door and sensed he’d followed her. “Do I need to prepare for company?”
“Yes, actually. The sooner the better.” She opened the French doors, walked outside and knelt beside the potted plants Trevor meticulously cared for. After she’d retrieved a small clump of soil from one, she asked, “Can you mask my scent?”
“Who have you pissed off this time?” His voice conveyed his worry and anger. He started mumbling, one of his numerous bad habits. When he snapped at her, his Scottish brogue was no longer hidden but in full swing. “Like I doona have enough trouble of my own tae deal with, I have tae take care of your shit as well. Thank you bloody fucking much.”
“Mask my scent. I’ll explain.”
“Doona tell me it’s another ghoul. The last one refused tae stay dead.”
“Would you just mask my scent already?” She lifted the chilled earth between her fingers and pressed it against one eyelid at a time. “I don’t have time to argue.”
Trevor grasped the top of her head. She felt something wet coating the top of her scalp, and whatever it was soaked her hair. He spoke several clipped words in Latin, evoking a spell of some kind. She felt the magic as it wrapped around her, keeping her presence hidden from those who might come looking for her. When he finished, he snagged her by the arm and guided her into the living area none too gently.
“Start explaining.”
“We’ve got a problem,” she muttered and took a seat on his couch.
“No, you have a problem, singular.” Trevor growled and paced the small area. “After our little run-in at the city of the dead, I told you I was done. No more, Arden. No more going into situations half-cocked. Unlike you, I value my life.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.” She cleared her throat before continuing, “The lycae who’s on my ass will sniff me out once he passes the Quarter.”
“Damn it!” Trevor stomped around the room, and his Scottish temperament decided it was time to shine. “It’s no’ enough that ye have vampires, vampyren and demon kind wanting to rip out your throat. Oh no. You had to go and tangle with a fucking werewolf? Are you bloody insane?”
“He got between me and Taylor. I didn’t have a hell of a lot of choice.”
“A lycae will tear you apart. You can’t atone for the life of your friend if you’re dead. Did you ever think of that?”
“At the time, no.” She shook her head and her shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t thinking about anything but finding Lucius.”
Silence followed, broken only by the ticking of a clock on the wall. She didn’t blame Trevor for being upset. Lycae were something they avoided. With the exception of Greyson, the agreement to stay away from them had never been an issue.
“You know why I couldn’t leave. I had to do everything I could.” Even though she couldn’t see, she tried to look him in the eye. “I owe Portia that. I gave her my word.”
Trevor understood her compulsion to risk everything for vengeance, having been there himself. It was how they’d met and formed a bizarre friendship. They reminded each other they were not alone. The death of a loved one left a permanent scar, but the pain of the blow could be eased with the aid of the right person.
Fucked up relationships. Gotta love them.
“We can’t stay here,” Trevor announced, wearing a hole in the carpet as he walked back and forth across the room. “We’ll pack some things and drive over to my parents’ place in Violet. No one knows about it. If I mask our scent, nothing will be able to detect us.” He stopped pacing and asked, “How much time do we have?”
“Minutes, maybe?” She was fast, but she had been forced to make her way to Trevor’s home blind. Wolfe would find them. It was only a matter of time.
“Damn, damn, damn!” he bellowed, anger coming off him in waves. “You owe me.”
She lowered her forehead to her palm, listening as he stormed from the room. Things had taken a turn from bad to worse. Her valued friendship with Trevor McAvoy was something she couldn’t afford to lose. His magic let her space apart her feedings and staved off the bloodlust. Without him, she would have to drink at least once a week. Since their relationship wasn’t formed in the most common sense, it meant she had to proceed with extreme caution.
The past returned, restoring awful memories.
She’d met her business associate when he’d needed help exorcising a demon that destroyed his parents and murdered his dearly departed girlfriend. Making money on the side was rather boring until they’d taken a job that’d pitted them against a lich—the purest and most disgusting kind of vampire. Both of them had walked away battered and alive, but just barely. Trevor had jumped ship shortly after, severing their professional ties. Not that she blamed him. Her line of work could kill a person. She didn’t fear the loss of her life, but she understood why he didn’t feel the same way.
Different strokes for different folks.
He returned and shoved something into her hand. “Take them. They’re not what you usually wear, but they’ll do. Ray Bans never go out of style.”
Arden happily accepted the glasses, sliding the thick plastic over her nose and ears. She forced her eyes open, blinking rapidly in order to clear tears from her lashes. In an instant, Trevor’s unnaturally beautiful face came into focus, his long mahogany hair mussed as if he’d just woken, his dark goatee lined with shadow at his jaw. Although he was fuzzy, she could see him clearly.
“Thank you,” she murmured and met his livid indigo-hued eyes through the thin, darkened barrier of the glasses. “You bespelled the lenses, didn’t you? So I could see?”
“Aye. The magic I put on them isn’t strong, but it’s enough to protect your eyes until I get my hands on some shade leaf.”
“Anything is better than direct sunlight.”
He retrieved the duffel at his feet and snatched a casting wand from the coffee table. Clutching the lethal object in his left hand, he manipulated his fingers around the base. She didn’t speak as he looked at her, giving him time to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he rose and walked to a vintage coat rack, retrieved his trench coat and slipped it over his arm. When he returned to her, he paused. His face changed and a small, humored smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“What am I going to do with you, Cricket?” he asked softly, bending down to smooth a strand of hair from her forehead. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know.”
“I know.” She lowered her face in humiliation. He only called her Cricket when he was being nostalgic, had too much to drink or felt sorry for her. “I’m sorry, Trev. I didn’t know where el
se to go. Greyson knows where I live. I couldn’t go home.”
“Come on.” Like a gentleman, he helped her to her feet. “We’ll talk in the car.”
She stood on shaky legs, trying to stand. Trevor slipped a hand around her waist to keep her balanced and pulled her close. Thankful for the support, she allowed him to bear her weight. He wasn’t built like the average magic castor. No lack of muscles or brawn. He was as tall as he was large—well over six feet. It came from his father’s side.
McAvoy men were stout Scots, so Trevor said.
They were walking toward the door when Arden’s senses went on alert. She recognized a scent but didn’t have time to place it. The floor trembled and shook, as if the world beneath them was crumbling to ash. Trevor’s hand tightened on her hip, and he swiveled their bodies in time to see the apartment door burst free of the hinges. Wood from the frame split and splintered with loud and horrific snaps. The door crashed to the side, sending amber thistles skittering across the floor.
Arden watched, wide-eyed, as a thoroughly enraged lycae appeared in the entranceway.
Trevor hadn’t worked fast enough. Nothing could keep her safe.
Oh shit.
Her time was up.
Chapter Five
“Get away from my mate,” Wolfe snarled and stepped over the remnants of the door.
He stomped into the room, angry enough to destroy everything in his path. The beast was nearly unhinged, crazed by the sight of Arden in the arms of another male. He felt the tremors in his muscles and bones, the desire to shift and destroy taking over. After he’d demolished the bathroom door and found her missing, he’d nearly lost control. It had taken all of his willpower to track her down without going into a maddened state, driven by the possibility she could be lost to him.
His instincts were primordial. Something he couldn’t contain.
The male released Arden but didn’t step away from her, his face showing his shock. “Your mate?” he yelled and peered down at the female beside him. “What in the bloody hell?”
“Don’t look at me like that! It’s not my fault he’s delusional!” Arden tried to take a step back, staring at Wolfe. “I tried to tell him he was wrong, but he won’t listen to reason.”
“And you’re surprised?” The male ripped his gaze from Arden and sized Wolfe up. “Lycae are not known for their reasoning when they mate.”
“To hell with this.” Arden held Wolfe’s stare for a second before she looked away. “I’m leaving.”
Reckless little vampire!
He didn’t come this far to leave empty handed. She was coming with him whether she liked it or not. He started to close the distance between them when the male beside her lifted his arm and revealed a casting wand. The rounded end contained a clear orb that glowed white, the crystal structure coming to life as it shifted into prismatic colors.
“Subnecto,” he barked, and the orb pulsed, turning almost orange.
Wolfe stopped immediately, as though his feet were glued to the floor. He drew back his lips, revealed his fangs and scented the air. The stench of amber, wick and salt permeated the space. But beneath it all there was a hum of energy he hadn’t noticed.
Damn it to hell.
He narrowed his eyes at the warlock, aware of whom he faced. Only one warlock judge had survived the curse of the crux demon that wiped out a majority of the magically inclined population twenty-five years before. They were a rare breed with magic so powerful supernatural things avoided them like the plague.
“Sheriff Trevor McAvoy.” Wolfe’s voice was no longer entirely man—throaty, garbled and animalistic.
“I don’t go by that title anymore,” the warlock replied.
Arden skirted behind Trevor, and the beast inside Wolfe went mad. It wanted to tear the warlock apart, to see the magic wielder bleed for coming anywhere near its mate. Wolfe shifted his feet despite the binding of the spell, and Trevor McAvoy lost a bit of his cool composure.
The warlock thrust the wand forward. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Damn it, Arden!” Wolfe roared, his body pulsating, skin burning. “Stop running from me.”
So close now.
The wolf’s howl in his head was so loud he couldn’t hear anything else. If she ran, he’d hurt her even if he didn’t mean to. The animal would be in charge. It would mark her without hesitation, fucking her so everyone knew it had staked its claim. It wouldn’t be kind and it wouldn’t be romantic.
“I’m going to shift,” he panted, holding back the change while he still could. “When that happens, only a silver bullet to the heart will stop me from taking you. Do you understand? The wolf will take over, and I won’t be able to do anything about it. Nothing will prevent me from making you mine. I’ll do it right here, in this very room. I’ll care who sees, but the animal inside me won’t.”
He scented her fear, heard the turmoil inside her stunned mind. The need to reassure and comfort her came second only to his efforts not to lose control. If she took off, he’d lose his hold over the beast. Then she’d learn just how eager his wolf was to claim her. He’d take her with or without the warlock watching, in such a way she’d never dare think of another.
“Stop moving.” Trevor addressed Arden quietly, his voice eerily calm. He kept his staff upright, eyes locked on Wolfe. “He’s not lying. He’ll shift, rip out my throat and take you on the floor where we’re standing. It’s in his nature. He can’t control it. Set him off and there’s nothing I can do. I’ll have to kill him to stop him.”
Wolfe studied her, absorbed the emotions that ran through her thoughts. She was afraid of what he was—of what he represented—and of what he offered. He was the future she didn’t want to believe in. Happiness was something she’d never allowed herself. She didn’t feel worthy of such a thing. Somehow she’d managed to convince herself that it didn’t matter if she never found love. His heart ached at what he discovered in the deepest recesses of her mind.
Everything she’d ever loved, she’d lost.
“Lycae don’t hurt their mates,” she said quietly, refusing to look at him. “I’ll go while he’s bound. Now that I can see, travel won’t be an issue—”
Trevor cut her short. “If you run, he will find you. There won’t be any talking until after the deed is done. You’ll hate him, even if you brought the harm on yourself because you refused to listen to me.”
“Damn it!” A simmering spark of temper shone through her fear. “This isn’t logical. I’m a vampire, not a lycae.”
“A dhampir,” Trevor amended. “Not a vampire. There is a distinction.”
“Release me before I break free of the goddamned spell and demolish this entire fucking room,” Wolfe snarled, his eyes locked on the female who captivated him beyond reason. He was a ticking time bomb. Without her nearness, he’d explode.
“I willna allow you tae harm her.” Trevor’s accent was full on now. “If you give your word no’ tae, I’ll set you free.”
Arden’s attention drifted from Wolfe to the warlock. Her outrage was obvious. “Don’t discuss me as though I’m not here!”
“I’m sorry, Cricket,” Trevor said, his manner pacifying. “You don’t understand what this means, but I do. I’d help if I could but this is out of my hands. Denying him will only lead to suffering. You two need to talk and sort things out.” He turned from her and clarified, “No harm to her, lycae.”
Wolfe stared directly at his mate and vowed, “You have my word.”
With a heavy sigh, Trevor lowered the wand and the orb dimmed. “Very well.”
The heaviness in Wolfe’s feet evaporated. He didn’t hesitate, crossing the short distance in three long strides. He snaked his arms around Arden’s waist and lifted her from the ground. Burying his nose into her nape, he basked in her scent. She didn’t struggle, staying passive in his arms, but he knew the temptation to flee remained.
“Don’t run from me, t’keeira.” He attempted to voice his torment and complete devastati
on at the possibility of failing her. “Don’t force me to become the monstrosity you believe me to be.”
“Damn,” Trevor muttered as he moved past them, walking to the entrance to his home. “I have tae replace the door and the frame.”
“Would you put me down?” Arden’s softly spoken request sent bristles of want down his spine. “PDAs are not my thing.”
The scent of her arousal clung to the air. She could pretend that she was disinterested—that she didn’t long for him as he longed for her—but her body told a different story. She’d been afraid when he’d arrived but she’d also been excited. She hadn’t understood her strange reactions to him, but in time she would. They were meant to be together. A part of her recognized that. If he slid his hand into her pants and cupped her cunt, she’d be ready and wet.
“I’m not letting go of you again, little mate.” He emphasized precisely what she was to him, needing her to hear and accept it. He knew she disliked cher, having heard the random thought when she’d tried to run from him. Fortunately there were other—more suitable—things to call her. “You may have fooled me once, but it won’t happen again.”
“Smug fucking bastard.”
He chuckled as he plucked the thought from her mind, squeezing her waist. With her near, the beast settled. But it wouldn’t last. Not until he knew the bond between them had been created and could never be broken. That was something that would only happen after he undressed her delicate body, fucked her like mad and came deep inside her.
“Where’s home?” he whispered in the shell of her ear. He nuzzled the soft lobe with his nose and grinned when she trembled. “We have unfinished business.”
“Don’t even think about it,” she argued weakly. “I don’t pick up strays.”
“The old abandoned Smith plant off St. Peter,” Trevor yelled over his shoulder. “She lives on the top floor of the building.”