by L. A. Banks
It was the sound that made her dry heave and her ears ring with terror-induced blood pressure spikes; a man’s high-pitched scream of agony; the sound of bone, tissue, wetness, then silence…followed by an ominous growl.
Suddenly she was falling. The man who’d been holding her thrust her forward as the beast stalked toward them. She hit the concrete on her hands and knees only to look up into strangely familiar eyes before flattening herself to the ground and covering her head. A whoosh of fur skimmed her back; she felt it through her blazer. But she dared not turn to invite the thing to chew off one of her legs. She heard it land, a man yelling. Snaps, gurgling cries, then silence.
Sidney held her breath. She could sense something close to her, could feel its body heat fuse with her own. God save her, it was coming back! A cold nose nudged her cheek. She stopped breathing as warm breath flowed over her hair. She bit down on her lip to stifle the fear whimper bubbling within her. Then the presence was gone.
Chapter Five
* * *
He splashed his face clean, washed his hands in the men’s room sink, and adjusted his leather jacket sleeves. Stupid bastards. This wasn’t supposed to get violent, but Madame Irvinia was rarely wrong. He could just imagine what might have happened to Sidney if he hadn’t gotten the lead to check her boss out. It was gonna be impossible to hold Leonora back, and he just hoped that she wouldn’t lose her mind over in Jersey while tracking West.
Brick hurried out of the bathroom and slipped into the exit stairwell. Now it all made sense. Sidney would work herself to death, land plum projects, while her rotten ass boss spilled the beans and bent over for her husband. The deal was so wrong it couldn’t ever get right…so damned foul that it had put blood in his nose, and now Douglass was trying to rough Sidney up to make her sign? He’d kill him.
Making a vertical leap to level one of the parking lot once outside the building, he ran to the stairwell and quickly came out on the fifth floor. Sidney was still cowering on the ground, clearly afraid to move in case the wolf came back.
His footfalls made her look up, and bless her soul, she tried to motion him away for his own safety. Tears streamed down her face, and he came to her more quickly than he’d intended.
“It’s okay, it’s all right,” he said, gathering her up into his arms.
“Ohmigod, get into my car—it’s a beast, it’s huge,” she said between ragged breaths as she clutched his biceps and tried to push him toward her vehicle.
“I know,” he said calmly, ushering her to her car. “It’s mine.”
She stopped short and stared at him. “You let something that lethal run loose in a public parking lot to guard me?” Her voice was an incredulous whisper. “Are you insane?”
He hadn’t thought about her having that reaction. Truth be told, he still had a bit of defense adrenaline surging, along with the very sated hunt sensation. She wasn’t supposed to get all legal and technical…right about this time he would have appreciated a nice long stroke down his back and an “atta boy.” But, hey. Women.
“Well, uh, it’s expertly trained to only go after criminals that show deadly force, and uh, it wouldn’t have hurt a civilian that—”
“Where is that beast now?” she asked, her face pale and voice becoming shrill. She glanced around and then averted her eyes to the ceiling. “There’s two dead men in this parking lot, and I think they’ve been mauled so badly they’re partially eaten.”
He watched her cross herself and back away from the BMW he was leading her towards. “Leonora got him…uh, she was downstairs with a cruiser…uh, the animal has a GPS chip embedded in it, plus something they put under his collar to tell us when he attacks—she got him chained up, don’t worry, okay, baby. The cops will come, Leo will explain about the potential robbery and the guard dog—uh…we’ll just say she was going on rounds with a canine unit and two perps jumped out and tried to mug her, the dog went ballistic, and she never even pulled her nine. But you should get out of here, feel me? No need to have your name connected with this.”
Sidney’s eyes searched his. “You’re sure Leonora is cool with all of this? I’ve never been involved in anything like this in my life,” she whispered, her tone holding so much trauma that he pulled her into his arms. “But you two sound like you’ve done this before and have this whole routine all worked out.”
Brick kissed the top of her head and hugged her. Sidney had no idea how many times he and Leo or other members of the pack had to work around the aftermath of a hunt. “Counselor, there’s a lot of bad shit that goes down on the streets that the average law abiding citizen and media doesn’t need to know about. Unfortunately, sometimes there’s no way to follow the rules—because the rules don’t have all the variables accounted for.”
He body-blocked her line of vision to the carnage and turned her to face away from her car. “Lemme find your keys and pull your car out—it’s also probably better if I drive, ’cause you don’t seem in any condition.”
She just hugged herself and nodded. He hurried with the task, trying not to run over any body parts. He’d hose down her vehicle in his garage later. That was the only way. He and the pack kept chemicals for just such occasions. He’d have to leave Leo a voicemail to double back, get the security tapes, and black ’em out just after the perps entered. They could easily blame it on muggers who were casing the building. Then just as he got it all worked out in his mind and opened the door for Sidney, she puked.
Leonora crouched down in the bushes with a telephoto lens. The slight smile on her face belied her intense concentration she required as she juggled a digital video recorder with a still shot Nikon, noiselessly following the movement within the Cherry Hill home. So this was Douglass West’s other home, hidden so sweetly in Sheldon Randolph’s name. It was such a lovely evening for a photo shoot, too. Not a cloud in the sky. A little dinner, an expensive wine, cocaine for dessert, now to retire to the family room before the fireplace for some two-way head. If Sidney couldn’t use these, then the judge was on the take. Leonora chuckled and bit her lip.
Payback was most certainly a bitch.
“No more arguments,” he said in a firm but gentle tone. “In the tub, now. Your clothes go in that bag on the floor. By the time you get out, they’ll be washed and dried. Toothpaste and mouthwash is in the cabinet—have at it.” He handed Sidney a glass of merlot and turned her around by her shoulders to walk her through the bathroom door. “Both Leo and I have done this drill before. You gotta trust me on this.”
Sidney took an unsteady sip from the glass and closed her eyes. “I don’t even know your real name, and you’re asking me to trust that I can leave two mauled bodies in a parking lot?”
Okay, maybe the lady had a point. He stepped around her. “Mitchell Brickland. Me and Leonora were in the Marines together. She got her education and got out, and went into civilian life as a cop. I got out and now I do what I do. Does that help?”
She smiled into her glass as she took another sip. “A little. Leonora is a good reference.”
He smiled. “She’s probably my only reference, but I couldn’t let you just walk around without security.”
She looked up at him, now placing her hand in the center of his chest. “I never want to witness a human being die, but I have to admit that for a moment there was a primal…I don’t know,” she said quietly. “A me-or-them feeling gripped me, and I desperately wanted it to be them, not me. Does that make sense?”
“Hell yeah,” he said with a shrug, allowing the pad of his thumbs to graze the line of her jaw. “Two punks had a gun at your head, would have done more than rob you from the looks on their faces, and you got out with just a few bruises and scraped knees. Them or you, baby. I picked them, too.”
There was something in her eyes that made him know that maybe he’d said too much. After all, Sidney Coleburn-West was a skilled attorney and most likely used to reading between the lines in a person’s eyes.
“How did you know what expres
sion they had on their faces, Brick?”
He glanced away, his mind scrambling. “I don’t wanna upset you.”
“Tell me, Mitchell. I need to know.”
Aw…maaaan…she’d messed around and called him by his birth name, all honest and tender and whatnot. He cast his gaze to the white tile floor.
“I closed their eyes for them, okay.” That’s the most truth and the best answer he could give her.
“They didn’t have terror on their faces at the last?”
Her question was so logical that it made him stare at her. “You’ve never seen men die, have you?” He was going for naïveté and the fact that he knew she probably wanted to drop the topic worse than he did.
She shook her head no.
“Good. You don’t want to,” he said with no fraud in his tone. “The evil in their hearts is always the last thing you see. Only the righteous keep the look of horror, then that slips away to peace.”
She shuddered and fell mute.
“Get in the tub,” he murmured. “Wash it out of your system, and after I clean your car up and do your clothes, I’ll get a shower, too—then we’ll talk more…or just chill. Your choice.”
He was glad for something constructive to do with his hands. Washing the car, throwing the blood solvent on there that Madame Irv gave him and the boys, was a very good thing right now. He just wished he had something equally as compelling to do with his mind.
Her body felt like someone had beat on it with a crowbar. The tension from being grabbed, then holding her body so stiff that every muscle felt like it had pulled away from the bone, made her wince as she stepped down into the large, ivory porcelain Jacuzzi and leaned into the jets. Her knees and palms ached and stung. Bits of gravel were still in the heel of her hand from when she’d been pushed to the concrete ground. A criminal had pointed a gun in her face. Wild shots had been fired. If it weren’t for Mitchell Brickland’s beast of a dog, she could have been killed, or worse. The most frighteningly majestic creature she’d ever seen in her life had come to her, sniffed her, and yet bypassed her to let her live.
Sidney sunk down deeper so that only her neck was above the fragrant bubbles. Warm merlot was making her heady, and Brick had been astute enough to leave her the bottle to go with the glass. This man who she just met seemed to innately know what she needed, and all of it was basic, like instinct. Protection, pleasure, relaxation, and space to sort it all out. He didn’t crowd, but was like a mysterious presence—there, yet not, but there when she needed him most.
After the third glass of wine, the problems of what might happen in the parking lot investigation slipped further and further from her mind…just as her body slipped deeper into the warm bubbles, her legs and arms bobbing in complete surrender to the sensation. She didn’t even start when Brick tapped on the door and peeked his head in.
“Hey,” she said lazily.
“Your clothes are dry…want me to leave them in the bedroom, or put them on the bench in here?”
“Oh, yeah, I guess I should get out of your tub.” She chuckled softly and sat up to reach for her glass to refill it.
“No, you can stay in the tub. I’ve got a robe you can borrow…as long as you don’t mind me jumping in the shower?”
She glimpsed him from the corner of her eye as she poured herself another glass of merlot, sloshing it a bit. “Now why would I mind that?” she murmured.
His mouth went dry. “Cool” was all he could say. He’d tell her later about the link to her boss. Now didn’t seem like an opportune time to bring her focus back to her troubles, not when she was so relaxed and her skin was glistening under the bathroom lights…damn she was beautiful.
The way she was looking at him made him turn around to strip off his gear, and grab a towel. He tried to seem casual as he dropped his pile of dirty clothes in a hamper and tossed his shoes into the bedroom somewhere.
Suddenly feeling awkward as hell, he almost got into the shower with his towel on. There was nothing practical left to do but drop it as he turned on the spray. Maybe it was the way her eyes hunted his body, just seemed to lick right over it as she slowly sipped her wine. Might have also had something to do with the fact that he’d come as close as he ever could to showing her his wolf, and he didn’t want to get shaky to let her see any hint of it now. Then again, it could’ve had a lot to do with the fact that he was trying to seem cool and nonchalant, but had wood so bad it was making his temples pound. She didn’t need to know all of that and might take it the wrong way…never could tell with women.
“I love your condo,” she said out of the blue as he lathered his chest.
“Thanks.” Okay, he had to do better than that, but it was really hard to think and he was so hungry it didn’t make sense.
“Have you been here long?”
He turned into the spray. “’Bout ten years. I’m not here much, though. Job keeps me in the streets at night.”
“Oh,” she murmured in a tone that ran all through him.
She watched him rinse off, mesmerized. It was like witnessing water rushing over stone—like a dark, rich, near black volcanic rock. Conversation was failing her, just like her breath. They’d never even spoken on what had happened the night before. Somehow they’d both seemed to know that the topic was off-limits. But he was clearly thinking about it—his body couldn’t lie about that…and just witnessing his arousal without really being able to do anything about it, was making her crazy. The wine didn’t help.
“You want some wine?” she offered, lifting the half-empty bottle and hoping he’d turn around, just a bit, to look at her. She wanted to see his phenomenal physique again full frontal, not just the teasing profile he offered as he hid part of it in the five-jet spray.
“Uh, yeah, I’ll get another glass when I get out—thanks.”
Need and tipsy misjudgment made her lift up a little higher than she’d originally intended. “If you tell me where the glasses are, I can dry off and go get you one.”
He glanced over his shoulder, paused, and then turned to stare facing her. His eyes followed the bubbles sliding down her breasts. Her hand clutched a bottle, holding it mid-air. His eyes never left hers as he turned off the shower, opened the glass door, and stepped toward her unconcerned about the water he tracked on the floor.
Something in his eyes made her simply hand him the bottle. He took it from her, still staring at her, took a long swig and then set it down on the rim of the tub.
“How are your hands?” he murmured, collecting her palms within his, and then turning them over.
The action made her stand, his gentle upward tug all the encouragement she needed.
“They got torn up a bit,” she said quietly, and then watched him lower his mouth to each one to place a gentle kiss on the scrapes.
“In a couple of nights it will all be better,” he whispered, placing her injured palms on his shoulders. He stepped in closer. “It was already in you.”
“What was?” she whispered, her body trembling from the heat wafting off his. She turned her face up, her mouth hungering for a kiss, her wet body aching to have his brush against hers.
“The ability to protect yourself,” he murmured, making their bellies touch and causing a swift burn to race through her.
She couldn’t answer, the gasp was complete. The hard length of him felt like it had been soldered to her pelvis, and an eerie tingling had begun in her palms. From nowhere the need to climb up him and take his mouth made her do it. His response was just as primal and immediate, lifting her from the tub, he wrapped her around his waist, kissing and blindly walking her out of the room.
“I wanna see where you got nipped,” he breathed out, making them both fall hard on the bed. “Leo told me…you also skinned your knees.”
His hot lick down her neck, between her breasts and over her belly arched her so hard she sat up. When he just kissed her mound and trailed his hands down her legs, she thought she’d lose her mind. He found her banged-up knees a
nd gently kissed them, and something about his attention there sent that tingly sensation through her again…but this time it burned more, made her hotter. Then he kissed down her legs and found where she’d been savaged as a child. The small scar ached now to the throbbing rhythm between her legs. His nip there broke the skin and made her cry out. Confusion, pleasure, and a dizzying level of want shot through her. He was so much bigger than her, thicker, heavier, but she felt like a madwoman, crazed and struggling to get him to mount her.
Yet it was impossible to twist into the right position—he had her by her legs, his face lowered to nip her inner thigh…then he found the place that made her cry out and grab the sheets.
Head back, crown dug into the pillows, panting openmouthed, she didn’t care about the frenzy in her voice as he lapped at her till she convulsed. Her hands couldn’t feel enough of his skin at once, her mouth couldn’t capture his. She wanted to taste him, but right now had to have him inside her. He obliged for two hard thrusts that put tears in her eyes, and then pulled out with a groan, making her almost fight him.
He moved to reach a nightstand drawer, she rolled over and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and dipped her spine low, watching him, breathing through her mouth. If she wasn’t mistaken he’d released a sound that was so low it sounded almost like a growl—but she could definitely relate.
If he didn’t calm down, he’d howl for sure. His hands were shaking as he sheathed himself in latex and almost ruined it with too-sharp nails. This was crazy, what had been on his mind? Kissing an open cut—him? New Lupe virus from the exposure was now running through her, making her wild, sending her through changes like she was in heat. He could see the repressed wolf in her stirring; it had been dormant for a very long time. Her eyes were beginning to change, her breathing was becoming erratic…it was the sexiest shit he’d ever seen.