The Hunters 6: Rafe and Sheila

by Shiloh Walker

  Dominic’s eyes fell away but Rafe wasn’t mollified. “I can’t say I’ve ever been where you are,” he said flatly. “I do know that if I was, I wouldn’t be happy until I killed the bastards.

  “Sheila has been where you are. But it was worse for her, because the people who did this to you—they were strangers. I know. I know what they did, what they look like—every time you think of them, every time you close your eyes you’re stuck there again, and I feel it. But Sheila knew the man who raped her, who beat her, who changed her. And her change was brutal. She loved him, and then he turned into a monster and almost killed her.”

  “I didn’t know.” Dominic turned his head away and Rafe felt the impotent fury, the grief inside him.

  “Doesn’t matter. You hurt her. When you’ve been hurt, you do what a lot of people do, you strike out. You struck out at her—you hurt her, you wanted to. You do it again, I’ll rip you to shreds. And you won’t get the chance to help us track down the men who did this. You won’t get the chance to see their blood flow. Because I’ll kill you.”

  Through all of this, Robbie remained silent, sitting on the floor and waiting patiently. But now he spoke up, his voice quiet as he said, “He’s a bad man. He likes to hurt people.”

  Something in Robbie’s voice had Rafe shifting his gaze, wondering. “You know him, Robbie?”

  The big man nodded his head, staring at the floor. “I felt his touch. It’s all over Dominic. Ella recognized his smell. I know his touch. He’s the bad man.”

  “The one who changed Ella?” Rafe asked. “Locked you up?”

  The witch nodded and he reached up, touching the bite on Dominic’s neck. Dom flinched and Robbie jerked his hand back, his face going blank and smooth as a doll’s.

  “He likes to hurt people. He’s good at it. Been doing it a long time. Me and Ella, we were going to leave the night we found Dominic. Knew he was close. He’s been close, but we hoped he’d move. He’s not though, so we got to run, stay away from him. But we didn’t want to let him kill anybody else.”

  Dominic laughed bitterly. “Appreciate the thought, but you were a little too late. He did kill me.”

  Rafe shook his head. “No. He Changed you. There is life inside you still, just a different kind of life. You aren’t dead. You’re just not human anymore.” Rafe moved to crouch on the floor by Robbie, smiling as Robbie turned his head to stare at him. “Do you know his name, Robbie? I can stop him—if you can help me.”

  “Pierre. His name is Pierre,” Robbie whispered, eyes dark and haunted. “But he’s not just a vampire. He’s got magick—he’s a bad man. Bad, bad, bad…”

  Rafe shoved a hand through his hair as he prowled the small confines of the room hours later. Dominic had finally agreed to feed, and now he was sleeping. Robbie had done something, because the new vampire was sleeping dreamlessly, and for the first time since he’d fed Dominic, Rafe only had his own thoughts in his head.

  Pierre.

  The name wasn’t unknown to him.

  The bastard had bitten the witch Leandra, nearly killed her. Would have if Malachi hadn’t brought her over. Malachi didn’t sire people—but he’d brought her over. Now he trained her, but they had yet to catch the man responsible.

  Malachi had put the word out that if Pierre was found, he wanted him.

  Rafe suspected he wanted Pierre for Leandra, so she could settle her score with him. But Pierre was here.

  And something inside of Rafe rebelled at the thought of turning this problem over to another. His land… Fury shot through him, fury, possessiveness, emotions he couldn’t even explain as he thought of Malachi coming here.

  Any Master would be bad…but Malachi, fuck, he’d be even worse.

  He didn’t want the ancient one on his land.

  He stilled as the thought passed through his head. His land. His territory. Like the missing piece of the puzzle, that one thought made everything that had been biting at him over the past few months fall into place.

  His aggression, his rampant bursts of fury, how he had come to resent Eli, even as he’d sought his Master’s approval.

  Rafe had become a Master. It wasn’t an unexpected thing—Eli had told him, decades ago, he had the mark of a Master inside him and he’d become one, provided he lived long enough.

  He’d suspected he’d get there in time. Knew sooner or later that he’d probably leave Eli’s enclave and start his own, but he hadn’t expected it to be an actual physical ache within him, hadn’t expected he’d need his own space so soon. Hadn’t expected this deep possessiveness… Hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

  Or thought about what it meant…leaving Sheila.

  Not that she was his anymore.

  But to be someplace hundreds of miles away from her—where he couldn’t see her smile, hear that soft laugh, smell the soft scent of her skin.

  But it was inevitable. Irrefutable.

  He had found his territory and it was here. It was his responsibility to deal with the monster that was preying within his land.

  Sheila came inside just in time to see Rafe rising from his crouch on the floor. He’d been staring into the fire and she shivered at the fury she saw flickering in his eyes. Fury wasn’t an unknown emotion for Rafe. His emotions were like quicksilver, always burning hot, and quick to spill over.

  What she saw in his eyes, though, was different.

  It was fury.

  But there was control there now. There were times when she doubted Rafe knew what control was. But his fury now was tightly reined in, controlled, laser-sharp instead of burning like a forest fire.

  “Rafe?” She kept her voice level. Any sign of nervousness from her in the past had always called out to a demon inside of Rafe, and she knew better than to show any sign of weakness in front of him until she knew what had set him off.

  “Are you okay?” he asked neutrally.

  She moved her shoulders in a restless shrug. “Dom’s confused. Hurt. Angry.” Sheila poked her lip out, sulking a little as she added, “I can’t say it didn’t hurt, but I understand how he feels. A little, at least.” Cocking her head, she studied him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Rafe?”

  A small, humorless smile curved his lips. “A hundred different things, Belle.” His gaze turned dark and he moved closer, looming over her.

  She trembled as his hand came up and cupped her face. It had been too long…that simple touch set her blood to singing and turned her insides to lava. Closing her eyes, she fought to leash her hunger before he saw it.

  Her mouth buzzed as he stroked his thumb over the lower curve of her lip. “I want you to leave Memphis. Take Dominic and the others with you, go to back to Eli.”

  Sheila’s eyes flew open and she stared up at him as she said, “Leave?” Slowly, she backed away from him, watching as his hand fell to his side, fingers curling into a fist for a brief second. “No. I’m not leaving, pal,” she said, shaking her head. “Too much is going on here.”

  “And I don’t want you involved in it,” Rafe said bluntly, his eyes narrowed on her face.

  “Don’t want me involved in it? Um, excuse me, but last I checked I was still a Hunter. And you can’t exactly tell me what to do,” she said on a huff, turning around as she slid her jacket off her shoulders and hung it on the peg by the door.

  She jumped as he murmured into her ear, “Now that is where you are wrong. This is my problem, my fight, so get out.”

  Spinning around, she glared up at him, hands planted on her hips, lifting her chin. “Make me,” she taunted.

  His fingers closed over her chin and Sheila tried to jerk back as he leaned down and growled, “Don’t push me, pet. You know how much that turns me on.”

  Sheila only lifted a brow, even though her heart started to slam against her ribs. Fighting had practically been foreplay for them, and she could feel the heat flowing from his body. Vampires were cool creatures. Heat came with hunger, with lust, with anger.

  And judging by t
he hooded look in his eyes, he was hungry, all right. But it wasn’t a physical appetite that he wanted to satisfy. She forced herself to shrug, keeping a disinterested look on her face as she replied, “I’m staying, Rafe.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, go soak your head, slick. I’ve got just as much right to be here as you do. More. Dominic was my responsibility—”

  “No. He’s mine. This is my land, and when somebody in my land is threatened, I handle it,” he said authoritatively.

  His words echoed in her head for the longest time before they finally made sense. His land. “Your land,” she murmured. “You certain about that, slick?”

  He gave a short, terse nod as he said, “Yes. I’ve felt edgy since I got here, and I finally figured out why. This is my land, babe. I’ll deal with it. Go to Eli.”

  Sheila laughed, shaking her head. “I know the rules, babe. I was here before you claimed your territory. I’ve been living here for a while. Set up residence and everything. And I don’t want to leave. So if you insist on me leaving, you’re going to have to make me.” Lifting her chin pugnaciously, she drawled, “So, you wanna fight it out?”

  When she lifted that chin and glared at him down the length of her cute little up-turned nose, all Rafe wanted to do was turn her over his knee and spank her. Damn it, this was serious. And she was snickering at him and daring him to make her leave.

  The hard truth was, though, if he wanted to make her leave, and she refused, the only lawful way to do it was for them to fight it out. And he couldn’t raise a hand to her.

  If she was his, under his command, a member of his enclave, he could force her to leave. Once she’d sworn an oath, she was bound to uphold it. But she was Eli’s.

  And he’d bet his next sunset that Eli wouldn’t do a damn thing that Rafe requested of him. Not right now. Eli was still too mad at him. Hell, most of them were. Sarel wasn’t happy with him, Lori wasn’t happy with him. Even Jonathan had told him he was being a bastard.

  “Sheila, go home,” he repeated.

  She smiled angelically at him and said, “I am home.”

  With a growl, he cupped his hand over the back of her neck and jerked her against him, slanting his mouth across hers. Safe. He just wanted her safe. Hungrily, he pushed his tongue inside the sweet well of her mouth, gorging on her taste.

  Her hands slid up his chest and she rose onto her toes, arching against him. Through the soft knit of her sweater, he felt her nipples stab into his chest and he pulled back, grabbing the hem of her sweater and jerking it over her head. The rose-colored lace of her bra cupped her breasts, the deeper pink of her nipples almost spilling over the edge of the bra.

  Pulling her back against him, he lifted her and turned, taking two steps to the table and laying her down on it. Bending over her, he plowed his fingers through her hair, arching her face up to his and taking her mouth again. “I want you,” he growled. “Every damn day, every second of every day, all the time. You’re in my head, my soul, my blood.”

  Her teeth caught his lip and then she licked at his mouth as Rafe pumped his hips against the covered mound of her sex. Trailing one hand down her hip, he caught the hem of her skirt and lifted it. Damn, he loved her in a skirt, all those sweet curves just waiting for his touch.

  Shifting, he nuzzled through the dense blonde curls to run his lips along the exposed line of her neck. Just under the fragile shield of her skin, he could smell her—vanilla, sex and Sheila—that unique scent that was hers alone.

  He found the narrow strip of silk at her hips and muttered, “You’re wearing underwear. I don’t like it when you wear underwear.”

  A weak laugh escaped her. “I didn’t know it was an issue—we’re not together anymore.”

  Rafe scowled and pushed up, bracing his weight on his elbows as he glared down at her. Nudging against her cleft, he said, “I don’t think you get much more together than this. Well, maybe a little.” Then he shoved her skirt to her waist and stripped the silky thong down her legs.

  With one hand on the inside of each knee, he pushed her thighs apart, staring down at the smooth lips of her pussy. He dropped to his knees and pulled her forward so that her hips were at the edge of the table. Licking his lips, he breathed in the scent of her aroused body before he lowered his head and pressed his mouth against her.

  The taste of her, spicy and sweet, exploded in his mouth as he parted her flesh and fucked his tongue in and out of her sheath. Her fingers fisted in his hair and he growled against her.

  Mine. She was his. Just like this land was his. And he’d be damned if he walked away from her because she thought she wanted some young kid who barely knew how to use his dick. Lifting his head, he stared up the length of her body as he yanked his shirt off. “You’re mine, pet, you know that?” he whispered as he stood.

  With harsh tugs, he opened his belt and unsnapped the buttons at his fly and watched her face as her lids slowly opened. A smile appeared on her lips as she stared up at him—that slow, feline smile that drove him crazy. Her voice was low, unsteady, almost drugged-sounding, as she replied, “Hell, I knew I was yours from the get-go. You’re the one who didn’t want me.”

  Shoving his jeans down, he crawled on the table and mounted her, wedging his thighs between hers and cuddling his cock against her dewy folds. “Dominic is over,” he whispered, lowering his head and catching the fleshy lobe of her ear in his teeth, biting gently.

  Sheila chuckled and slid her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, then laced her fingers behind his neck. “Aren’t you done talking yet? All you had to do was look at me the right way and I’d give in,” she whispered. “But you just walked away from me.”

  Groaning, Rafe wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him, shifting his hips and pushing slowly inside. The silken grip of her pussy closed over him like a wet fist—tight, hot, pure ecstasy.

  “I love you,” he whispered as he slid deeper inside her. “I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to feel anything again, but you made me.”

  A startled gasp escaped and he lifted his head, staring into her sky-blue eyes as a tear slid from the corner of her eye. Lowering his lips to her face, he licked it away and whispered, “Ah, baby, don’t cry. Please.”

  “Do you mean it?” she demanded, her nails biting into his flesh as she pushed against his chest and made him look at her. “Do you?”

  His mouth crooked into a wry grin. “Belle, if I didn’t mean it, why in the hell do you think I came looking for you?” The snug muscles in her pussy convulsed around his aching sex and a shudder racked his body as he pulled out and surged back inside.

  Sheila’s pelvis rose to meet his and he caught her hip in his hand, holding her still. Impaling her completely, he rotated his hips and watched as her lashes fluttered down. Rafe lowered his head and raked her neck with his teeth, watching as a thin line of blood welled where his razor-sharp incisors had grazed her skin.

  Her body arched under his as he lowered his head and licked her neck, lapping the wine of her blood away with slow, thorough deliberation. Closing his mouth over the small injury, he drank from her as he fucked her. She screamed and the sound rippled down his spine, heat exploding through his veins.

  The small wound was already healing as he lifted his head, pulling back to stare into her eyes. “You’re delicious, Belle,” he muttered, his head spinning. He felt drunk. The taste of her always hit him like a fifth of whiskey, making his head spin, his blood heat.

  Sheila whimpered under him and threw her head back, screaming out his name as she drew her legs up. He felt her heels pressed into the small of his back as she wrapped her thighs around him.

  Hs cock sank deeper and he braced his hands on the table beside her head, the rhythm of his hips picking up as he pummeled her. The silken tissues of her pussy seemed to suck him in, clinging to him as he pulled out, resisting his entry as he sank back inside.

  Sheila lifted up and pressed her mouth to his chest, her tongue sliding out to danc
e over his flesh. Her nails scraped against the small circles of his nipples and Rafe groaned, the sensation as hot and intense as if she had closed her hand over his balls.

  The need to come wasn’t something he could fight. Dropping his weight down on top of her, he caught her face in his hands and slanted his mouth across hers, plunging his tongue inside the sweet recesses and gorging on her taste. Her tongue pushed into his mouth and he bit down gently, feeling her arch against him, the tight, diamond-hard beads of her nipples stabbing into his chest.

  Sheila screamed into his mouth and Rafe felt the hot punch of satisfaction flow through his veins as she started to come around his dick—hot, tight little caresses all up and down his length as she pumped her hips against him. He burrowed inside her, burying his cock to the balls, his entire body shaking as she convulsed and shook beneath him.

  He exploded inside her, his cock jerking as he came. Riding it to the end, he pulled out just a little and surged back inside her just as her body went limp. Collapsing against her, he rested his head between the sweet, plump mounds of her breasts, cupping one in his hand, just so he could feel her skin against his palm.

  Against his cheek, he felt the steady, quick beat of her heart and he grinned. “Your heart’s pounding away there, Belle,” he murmured.

  He heard the smile in her voice as she said, “I bet. If I was still human, I’d have had a heart attack already.”

  Turning his head, he pressed his mouth to her chest, feeling the pulse of her heart against his lips. “I adore you,” he whispered.

  Her breath tripped and he looked up, seeing tears gleaming in her eyes. With a half-grin, he shrugged, shifting around until he could lie beside her and catch one of those diamond-bright tears as it slid down her cheek. He licked the tiny, salty drop off his finger and then traced the damp tip in a slow circle on her breastbone.