“Come for me, Jackson,” she whispers in my ear. “Come for me.”
Although I'm trying my best, she squeezes my cock tight with the muscles inside of her and I can't stop myself from plunging over that cliff. My body tenses up and I throw my head back, growling as I explode within her. I feel my cock pulsing deep inside of her as my hot seed fills her up.
Neesa cries out and digs her nails into my shoulders again, another orgasm, more powerful than her first, grips her. As I pump my hot spunk into her, Neesa lays her head down on my shoulder, her breathing ragged, her body trembling.
Slowly, the sensations fade and my cock, spent and deflated, slips out of her. We hold each other close, neither of us saying a word for several long moments. Leaning forward, I kiss her again. Instead of the fire and passion of our first kiss though, this is more gentle and tender.
As I look into her eyes, I see a world of confusion swirling through them – which more than likely reflects what's in my own. The idea of being with Neesa like this – even a day ago – never would have crossed my mind. Neither of us would have considered it. And yet – here we are.
“This has been, without a doubt, one of the strangest nights of my life,” I say, a nervous laugh escaping me.
“I hope it isn't all terrible,” she says, an uncertain smile upon her lips.
“Absolutely not,” I say.
Something changed. We changed. The world changed. Hell, I don't know, but something is different right now than it was twenty-four hours ago. I can feel the difference inside of me. It's like I'm achieving that thing drunks like to talk about – that moment of clarity. I'm seeing and feeling things differently. Deeper. More profoundly.
About the only and best way I can describe it is that for the first time in a very long time, I feel awake. Alive. The world around me suddenly has an electricity and vibrancy it's lacked for so long. Maybe it's Neesa. Maybe it's just that Neesa tripped something within me. Maybe I can't have one without the other. Whatever it is, the feeling is heady. Powerful. Intoxicating.
And unlike everything else that's been changing around me, this is one change I think I like.
In fact, I think I like it a lot.
Chapter Thirteen
Neesa
I wake up in Jackson's guest room with the sunlight already streaming through the windows. I check my watch and see that it's already nearing eleven. Christ, how did I let myself sleep so late? Despite the fact that we'd had sex on his kitchen counter, we'd decided to sleep in separate bedrooms. I think both of us felt like sleeping together – after sleeping together – might imply a level of intimacy neither of us are ready for. Hell, that maybe neither of us even want.
But after getting to know him a little better, after seeing what kind of a man he really is – I'm not entirely opposed to the idea. Something that if suggested to me a day ago, I would have found utterly preposterous and laughable. But sometimes, change happens at a glacier's pace and sometimes, it happens in a hurry.
I feel a little stiff and sore in places I'm not accustomed to, thanks to the previous night's activities. It's been so long since I've been with anybody sexually, I almost forgot how good it feels. Even the soreness is a small price to pay for a night of intense pleasure.
I can hear Jackson moving around downstairs as I stumble into the bathroom and flip on the shower, the bathroom filling with steam in moments. I step beneath the scalding cascade and let the hot water rain down over me. It feels amazing, the heat working out the kinks in my muscles, the steam helping to clear out the cobwebs in my head.
With my skin glowing red, but feeling back to normal, I climb out and towel off. I look at the pile of clothes at the end of the bed – the same clothes I'd worn yesterday. All of my things are still at Umak's and I'm not sure what I'm going to do about that just yet.
I'm just about to climb into my dirty clothes when I notice a bag sitting on the table next to the door. I'm sure it wasn't there the night before, so I go and take a peek. Inside the bag are a pair of black jeans and a black, long sleeved shirt – both with the tags still on. I pull the clothes out of the bag and look at them – they're my size. More or less.
Jackson. I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at them for a little while. It's a small gesture, but one that's incredibly thoughtful. I can't think of a single time in my life – at least, my life as a wolf – that anybody had ever done something so kind for me. Umak certainly never had. It feels strange and I'm not entirely sure what to do with that.
Tucking it away for now, I get myself dressed and head downstairs. The air is filled with the aroma of coffee and Jackson is buzzing around.
“Hey, good morning,” he says, his voice more chipper than I've ever heard it before.
“Why'd you let me sleep so late?”
He hands me a cup of coffee and smiles. “Cream and sugar are on the table,” he says. “And I thought you could use it. Besides, I had a few errands to run this morning.”
I hold my arms out. “Thanks for these, by the way,” I say. “What time did you get up?”
“You're welcome. Thought you might be able to use some fresh clothes,” he replies. “And I'm always up at six. Can never seem to manage to sleep any later than that, no matter how hard I try.”
“Oh, you're one of those people,” I say and grin as I fix my coffee.
“Yup. I'm one of those people,” he says. “We're going to have to take breakfast to go though. We have to get down to the ME's office. Floyd called and said he had some information for us.”
“Breakfast too?” I say and laugh. “Did I fall asleep and wind up in a five-star resort?”
“Don't get your hopes too high,” he says. “It's nothing you'd ever find at a five-star resort.”
“But you cook. I'm impressed.”
He shrugs. “I'm sure Gordon Ramsey would have a stroke if he tasted my cooking,” he says, a lopsided grin on his face. “But, it fills the void.”
“Wow,” I say. “You're a man of many talents.”
“It's either learn how to cook something that passes for edible or starve,” he says. “I prefer to avoid starving if at all possible.”
I swallow down half of my coffee as he hands me a plastic container. And a travel mug for coffee.
“Breakfast burrito to go,” he announces.
I give him a smile and shake my head as we head out the door.
~ooo000ooo~
Half an hour later, my belly is full, I'm fully caffeinated, and we're walking through the doors of the Black Salmon Falls ME's office. A pudgy man with thick glasses and a shock of wild, unkempt hair greets us with a wide smile.
“Jackson, good to see you again,” he says, shaking his hand.
The man turns to me and extends his hand. “Dr. Connor Floyd,” he says brightly. “We haven't met before. Are you new to Black Salmon Falls?”
“Neesa,” I say, not quite sure how to answer him.
“Neesa and I are working together,” Jackson says. “She's – she's a wolf.”
Floyd nods and smiles even wider. “Excellent,” he says “I've never actually met a werewolf before. Read a lot about you though.”
He looks me up and down – not in a checking me out, perverted kind of way, but a clinical, taking all of my measurements so he can chop me up kind of way. Which is infinitely more uncomfortable to me.
“Floyd is excitable,” Jackson says. “But ultimately, harmless. He's become quite the expert on shifters. At least, on bears.”
“And I'm always looking to expand my base of knowledge,” Floyd says.
“Good to know?” I say, not really sure how to reply to that.
“How's your girlfriend, Floyd?” Jackson asks.
“Amazing,” he says. “Except for the fact that I still can't beat her at Scrabble. But hey, every relationship has its difficulties, right?”
Jackson laughs and nods his head. Floyd is a quirky and odd little man. And yet, he's strangely charming. There's almost an innocence about h
im that's sweet. And Jackson is as loose and carefree around him as I've ever seen him. He doesn't seem anywhere nearly as guarded with Floyd as he does with everybody else – including me. It's interesting.
“You said you had some information for us?” Jackson asks.
Floyd nods his head. “Indeed,” he says.
The ME walks over to the bank of drawers in the back of the room and opens two of them and beckons us over. I stay close to Jackson as we look down at the two mounds of mutilated meat in the drawers. I've seen pictures of them, which were grisly enough. But seeing them live and in the flesh is a whole different experience – one that's far more gruesome.
“So, I did a deeper exam on these two,” Floyd says. “And I found something rather interesting.”
The doctor leans down and using a pencil, points to two small holes on what I assume is the neck of the body – I can't really be sure though.
“See these?” he asks.
Jackson leans closer and nods. “Yeah. What are they?”
“Well, I can't say definitively, of course,” he says, “but my best guess is that they're puncture wounds. The kind that a vampire might make.”
“A vampire?” I ask.
Floyd nods. “I believe so,” he says, using the pencil he points to more sets of the wounds on various other parts of the body. “As you can see, there are punctures at all the points of major arteries. I thought it could be an anomaly, but those wounds are on both bodies. And I've never heard of anything that does that except for vampires.”
Jackson stands up, his expression suddenly grim. “Vampires,” he says. “I haven't heard of vampires even being in these parts for like a century.”
I look from Jackson to Floyd and back again. I know vampires exist, but they're not something I've ever had to deal with, so it's a case of out of sight, out of mind. I never really even give them much thought.
“I always thought vamps live in big cities,” Floyd says. “Lots of people, lots of food sources.”
“Yeah, my understanding is that's why they don't live in places like this,” Jackson says. “Not enough food sources for them to go unnoticed.”
“Apparently, they're branching out,” I say, looking at what's left of the bodies in front of me.
“I've also never heard of them doing anything other than drinking blood,” Jacksons says. “I've never heard of them actually eating flesh like this.”
“Maybe these aren't normal vampires,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe they're some sort of freakish hybrid or something.”
“Maybe,” Jackson says softly, his eyes still riveted on the two bodies.
“Now that would be fascinating,” Floyd says. “If you happen to kill one, would it be too much to ask for some time with the body? I'd love to study it.”
Yeah, because that's not creepy or anything.
“I'll see what we can do,” Jackson says, a smile breaking through the grim, brooding visage. “Is there anything else?”
Floyd shakes his head. “Nope, that's it,” he says. “I thought you'd want to know.”
“I appreciate it, as always,” Jackson says. “That information is really helpful.”
“Anytime, Jackson,” he replies. “You know you can always count on me.
He nods and then turns to me. “We should go,” he says. “I have an idea.”
“It was lovely meeting you, Neesa,” Floyd says. “And please, if you wouldn't mind, maybe sometime, you can come by and let me run a few tests? Get to know you a little better, in a way.”
I laugh nervously. “Ummm... yeah, maybe?”
Jackson laughs. “He wants to study you as a wolf,” he says. “Totally harmless and non-invasive. Promise.”
“Yeah, we should go.”
He's still laughing as we walk back to the car and I have to resist the urge to slap him upside the head. Glad he's getting a kick out of it.
“Floyd's a good guy,” he says. “Inquisitive mind. He just wants to understand the inner workings of the wolf.”
“Yeah, that's not really putting me any more at ease,” I say. “In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn't,” he says, giving me that lopsided grin.
“Where are we going?”
“Vampire hunting.”
I jump into the passenger seat, already feeling the adrenaline going and that familiar – welcome – thrill of danger. It's a rush and I love it.
“Does it make me twisted that I much prefer the idea of facing off with a vampire than let Floyd run tests on me?”
Jackson shrugs. “Just adds to your charm.”
He starts the car and as we pull out of the parking lot, all I can do is laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson
Neesa guides me to where she'd encountered the creatures in the woods. We park on a side road and hike into the forest. We're a few miles form Umak's place, but we still need to tread carefully.
“Over here, I think,” she says.
We find a fallen log next to a creek, just like the one she described sitting on when the creatures came after her. I scented the air around us but didn't smell anything out of the ordinary. Turning around in a circle, I tried to orient myself.
“Two miles that way,” I said pointing to the east, “is Umak's place.”
“Right.”
Turning around, I point the other way. “And about five miles that way, is that burned out old warehouse.”
“Okay, sure,” she says. “And the point is?”
“Not sure,” I say. “I was under the impression though, that Tim and Peter – the two lumps of meat you met in Floyd's office – were at that burned out old factory the night they were killed. A couple of friends of theirs said they invited them out there to go drink, but they ended up not going.”
“Lucky them,” she says. “Still not seeing the point though.”
“I'm just wondering aloud,” I say. “If these things are creeping through the woods, they have to have a place they call home somewhere, right?”
Neesa shrugs. “Probably,” she says. “Sounds like a safe assumption.”
“Then maybe it's somewhere between here and there,” I say. “Just a thought.”
“One way to find out.”
Neesa heads off into the woods and I have to hurry to catch up to her. She's definitely a woman who likes the action. A woman who isn't happy sitting idly by, doing nothing. I can respect that about her a lot, actually. I think we're a lot alike in that way. Although, there are days I crave nothing more than not having any fight to wade into – a life that's just sedate and normal. Yeah, as if shifters can have normal lives.
“Something I've been meaning to ask you,” she says.
“What's that?”
“The night at the Peace House,” she says. “Luca said something about granting us the powers of – what was it again?”
“The powers of Pla'qitay.”
“Right. That,” she says. “What in the hell is that?”
“It's an old title,” I say. “One that's not really used anymore.”
“Then why is he using it?”
I shrug. “I don't know,” I reply. “Maybe he's feeling nostalgic. He wouldn't be the first. My own Clan Chief is an example of that. Nobody bonds a Moq'apo anymore. And yet, here I am.”
“Okay, that's great,” she says. “But what is it?”
“To put it simply, he's deputizing us,” I say. “He's giving us broad authority to do whatever we need to do to put a stop to this. And it also frees us from any consequences of our actions.”
“Consequences?”
“In theory, just to use a crude example,” I say. “At the bar last night. Either one of us could have killed Tony and simply said he was interfering with our investigation. We claim the power of Pla'qitay and boom, instant immunity. Nobody can touch us.”
“Huh,” she says. “And that works even thought I'm not one of you guys?”
I nod. “You're part of the
team, so yes.”
“So, why did you not let me kill that idiot last night?”
I grin and shake my head. “I didn't want to spend the whole night doing paperwork,” I say, giving her a flirtatious smile. “There were other things I had on my mind.”
She turns and gives me a sultry little smile. “Good thinking.”
We walk on for a little while longer in silence. The forest around us is thick, the canopy overhead not letting much of the sunlight through and leaving much of the floor in dusky shadows. All around us, the world is alive with the sound of animals scurrying through the underbrush and birds singing in the trees overhead.
In another context, this little walk through the woods with Neesa would almost be romantic.
“So, why did Luca do that?” she asks. “Grant us this authority?”
I shake my head. It's a question I've asked myself a million times. He certainly didn't need to. And Asher certainly didn't need to grant the powers to us. About all I can chalk it up to is Luca's insistence on keeping me with the Clans by giving me a sense of purpose.
“I honestly don't know,” I say. “My best guess is that Luca is trying to show me that I have a purpose. That Luca is trying to keep me from renouncing and going Rogue.”
“Why would he do that?”
I shrug. “Luca and I are good friends. I go Rogue, we can't even speak to one another again,” I say. “He's a good guy with a big heart. And he sees that I've been struggling lately. He thinks he's helping me out by giving me purpose and direction.”
“Could you do that?” she asks. “Walk away from everybody and everything you know and love?”
“I thought I could,” I say. “Now? I don't know for sure.”
We stop walking and our eyes connect and we hold each other's gaze for a long moment. I see the color flare in her cheeks and I feel a churning in my stomach. I clear my throat and turn away, continuing on through the forest.
After another hour or so of walking, we find ourselves standing before the entrance of a large cave. The darkness just inside the mouth is absolute. Scenting the air, I smell something that's utterly alien to me. But when I turn to Neesa, I see that the color has blanched from her face and her eyes are wide.
Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3) Page 9