Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “No fresh blood.” His response came out low and guttural. Even his teeth had sharpened, and his claws had sliced out. Turning away from her face, he focused on her throat. He could bite her right there, and everyone would see it.

  Fuck. I should have left her with Enoch. But the thought lived for only a handful of seconds before rage surged beneath his lust. He’d kill the nephilim before he’d hand Jubilee over.

  “Good,” Cara chirped, and awareness of what he’d been considering rushed through Fox. “Then, according to this website, you need to give her some OTCs and rest. Maybe put some cold compresses on it. If she’s in a lot of pain, I can see about diverting a healer there, but I don’t think management would approve. Unless we’re turning her…oh, well, and, in that case, just do it. That should heal whatever’s going on.” She sounded practically relieved. “Is there anything else? We’ve got some injuries coming in.”

  “No. Injuries?” Shaking off the cloud of lust muddling his brain, he frowned. “What happened?”

  “Some of the bears got into it on the subway. We have it handled. You take care of your human.” She hung up without giving him any other details.

  Torn between heading in to find out what the trouble was and staying to look after Jubilee, Fox growled. The decision shouldn’t have required any thought at all. He was a Watcher. A fight in the subway could have created any number of problems.

  But, if he left, he’d have to turn Jubilee over. Fisting his control, he forced his claws to retract and his teeth to return to normal. He wasn’t some young punk. He had over two hundred years of experience. If they needed him, they’d summon him.

  Reviewing Cara’s advice, Fox went to get the supplies to clean Jubilee’s face up and put an ice pack on it. He had no idea what an OTC was, but he’d figure that out after he got his libido under control.

  A few minutes later, he settled on the edge of the bed and washed away the remnants of her cosmetics. The layering she’d done with the dark eyes and heavy use of blush had given her the look of a child playing with her mother’s makeup, but the woman beneath the cosmetics was far lovelier. Yes, she still had a pixie face, all soft and rounded with high cheekbones and a pert little nose, but her lips seemed naturally pink and sweet.

  When she shivered and shifted restlessly, he put aside the washcloth and pulled a cover over her. Picking up her clothes, he checked them for scent. The men he’d killed had touched her. Their scent was faint, but present. The acridness of fear had soaked into them, along with determination, but, beneath it all, was the ever-present perfume of Jubilee. Inhaling a lungful, he closed his eyes, and the image of her fierce eyes and the fight in her spirit filled his mind.

  He found a wallet in one of her pockets and pulled it out. Her identification card told him her name and her address. She glared at the camera in the photograph, a tiny line tightening the space between her brows. Furious.

  She’d be a hellcat in bed. He looked forward to pissing her off. He wanted to see that temper of hers. A look at the birthdate alleviated some of his stress, however. Older than she looked.

  “Hello, Jubilee,” he told her. “You and I are going to be good friends.”

  Gathering the rest of her things together, he dumped them into a sack and locked them in the closet before heading back to the bed. Jubilee was still asleep. He’d needed her asleep before. Now, he wanted her to wake up. But she probably needed to rest, and he should really ice her shoulder and her face.

  Scowling at the unfamiliar feeling, his need to take care of her, he locked the room to make sure she couldn’t slip away and crawled onto the bed next to her. Making sure the ice packs were in place, he slid an arm across her middle and closed his eyes. He’d know the moment she woke, and then they would have a chat.

  ****

  Jubilee fought the urge to hold her breath when his arm came around her middle. The throbbing in her shoulder seemed to beat in time with her pulse. Still, it couldn’t compare to her terror at waking to the dangerous man prowling around the room. The sharp sting of her shoulder snapping back into place had catapulted her from sleep. Thankfully he hadn’t reacted to her gasp. She’d dared a peek from her tear-filled eyes, but survival instincts, finely honed after a decade of avoiding just this type of situation, had her shutting them immediately.

  He’d touched her repeatedly and cleaned her. Then he’d put ice on her. The whole time, he’d talked on the phone, and he’d said some odd fucking things. Jubilee tried to ignore the strange sense of longing his tenderness awoke in her. The man—if he really was one—had killed her pursuers. He’d killed them so swiftly they’d barely had time to make a sound.

  I have to get out of here. The glide of his fingertips awoke a skittering sensation in her belly that turned into a languid heat. And, just like that, she wanted to touch him all over again. What the hell is wrong with me? When she’d shivered, terror fisted in her belly, but he hadn’t noticed she was awake, and then he’d pulled the blankets over her.

  The sweet, thoughtful gesture undid her. When he moved away, she dared a quick look. He sniffed at her clothes, and she catalogued that peculiar behavior with all the others but forgot why that was odd when he walked away from the bed. Dressed only in a pair of jeans that weren’t quite fastened and rode low on his hips, he exuded a raw sensuality. She wanted to drown in the carnal fantasies his near nakedness produced.

  Hell, she was naked.

  Oh fuck, I am naked.

  A whisper of movement and she closed her eyes before he could catch her looking. The jackhammer of her pulse made her greedy for air, and she fought to keep her respiration steady. Please leave the room. Please leave the room.

  It had to have windows. She didn’t care if it was twenty stories up; she’d throw a chair through the glass and climb out that way. She’d gone from the frying pan and right into the fire.

  The bed depressed next to her, and, instead of leaving, he sprawled next to her and then his arm came across her middle. She was trapped. Her eyes flew open, and she slid a look sideways. His eyes were closed, and the dark tousle of his hair drifted over his forehead. The words he’d said to her whispered like a sensuous promise, and her palms itched to brush away that lock. Would it be soft or coarse? Were his muscles as hard as they looked?

  Is he going to kill me?

  Tears coated her throat, and she swallowed a cry. With agonizing slowness, she turned her head and tried to make sense of the room. It was different. The bed was in the wrong place, and it was darker with wood-paneled walls and bigger than the hotel room. Where was she? Oh, crap. He kidnapped me. Barry… Her brother would be worried when she didn’t come home. Fuck that. He’d be dead if she didn’t come home.

  After stealing another glance at her captor, she froze, and her heart squeezed painfully. His eyes were open, and a lazy smile curved his lips. “Hello, Jubilee.”

  She screamed and jerked backward, and, if his arm hadn’t tightened around her, she would have fallen right off the bed. The motion aggravated her shoulder, and her terror turned to pain.

  Instantly alert, her captor rose and leaned over her, his dark eyes locked on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hurts.” It did more than hurt. It burned as though someone had shoved a hot poker into her shoulder joint.

  He glared at her. No, at her shoulder and his teeth came together with a click. It was probably the pain muddling her thoughts, but she could have sworn he looked frustrated.

  “I don’t have an OTC.” With a stretch, he snatched the fallen ice pack and pressed it to her shoulder, and she let out another wheezing scream. “Where do I find an OTC? I’ll get you one.”

  Gasping at the pressure of the ice, she tried to catch her breath long enough to answer, and then his chest settled against hers, and electricity zapped the thought right out of her head. Her nipples stiffened at the expanse of hot muscle pressing up to them, and he was so hot, hotter still than the ice was cold on her shoulder.

  “Jubilee.” Comma
nd laced through his voice, and the compulsion to obey him couldn’t be ignored. “Tell me where to find it, and I will get you some.”

  She wanted to answer him. She really did. But…

  “Don’t fucking tell me what to do, and you weigh a ton. Get off.” No, his weight wasn’t remotely unpleasant. Her legs had spread of their own accord the moment he’d settled against her, and she wanted to wrap her arms around him.

  I’m insane. Certifiable. Snapped. Gone to the loony bin.

  His eyes narrowed. “Nice mouth.”

  “Off,” she repeated before she gave into the urge to try and shed the sheet. The urge to rub up against him was so strong she could feel the dampness soaking her thighs. Clenching her ass muscles, she pushed up with her hips. She’d meant to encourage him to move, but all she succeeded in doing was encountering the thick length of his erection....

  A moan escaped. From him or her, she wasn’t certain. He went utterly still, and Jubilee sucked in a noisy breath. He stared at her with the eyes of a predator, and she didn’t know whether to celebrate the heat scorching her or curl into a ball and whimper.

  Bracing one hand against the bed, he levered his weight upward, and a fresh protest erupted. She didn’t want him gone. With a curious lack of caution, she reached with her uninjured arm and touched a hand to his chest. The rigid wall flexed under her fingertips, and he stilled again. Lashes dipping over his eyes, he continued to stare at her.

  “How badly does it hurt, Jubilee?”

  “A lot.” She licked her lips, suddenly uncertain of everything. Especially if she couldn’t trust her own body. “I’m sorry if I was rude.”

  Why was she apologizing?

  Maybe because I want to live.

  He shrugged and adjusted the ice pack. “You’re in pain. I want to fix it for you.”

  A dozen responses raced through her mind. Take me to a hospital. Let me go. Kiss me. The last one hitched the breath in her lungs. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “That would solve the pain problem.” His far-too-brief smile did little to soften the dry response. “Though I am reluctant to use that method if we can do something else.”

  Fuck me? Desire swept through her in a torrent. His nostrils flared, and he descended like a masculine blanket. With care, he traced gentle fingers over her cheek. “Look at me, Jubilee.” She wanted to drown in his voice. The bite of his cologne was overpowering, and, yet, she wanted to roll around in it.

  “How are you doing that?” Flattening her palm against his chest, she pressed him away. It had about as much effect as a butterfly against a steam locomotive, but he paused.

  “I could ask you the same question. You are a strange human.” There was that word again. The same one he’d said that on the phone. Human.

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.” In the hotel room. With the dead men. He’d told her that. Another memory wiggled free. “And then you made me go to sleep. I didn’t want to, and you did it anyway. What are you?”

  He sighed and rubbed his cheek to hers. The softness sent a fresh puddle of liquid heat through her. Traitorous body or not, she didn’t want what he was offering, not when she had so many questions.

  “Don’t ask me that again,” he whispered against her ear. No compulsion tainted the request. “Please. Tell me how I can ease your pain, and I shall, but no more questions.”

  What planet was he from? She was definitely going to ask questions. Girl, if you don’t learn to shut that mouth of yours, it will get you killed. Her mother’s one piece of sage wisdom echoed at her from the past.

  Fox—the memory of him telling her his name jiggled free—growled, and he nipped her earlobe. The sharp sting was almost a reprimand, and everything in her went low and tight. “Do you understand?” He released another soft growl, one that verged on a purr. The man was a walking or, in this case, lying, invitation to sin.

  “I get you don’t want to answer my questions, but I’m not going to tell anyone you killed those men.” No one would believe her for one, and seriously? He’d saved her life. She wasn’t a ratfink.

  That brought him upright, and he stared at her. “Stubborn.”

  His response made her smile. “I’ve been called a lot worse.”

  “By whom?” Danger lurked in that tone.

  They were going in circles, and, if the firm press of his very happy cock pressing along her belly could be believed, they were going to stay right here, and then she’d be forced to try and wiggle out from under the sheet so she could accommodate him. Needing a distraction, she flailed for a reason to break this connection. “I need to pee.”

  Humiliation stumbled through her. I need to pee? Maybe she should’ve invited him to kill her. It might have been kinder to both of them. Fox shifted off her and onto his feet. Before she realized his intention, he’d swept the covers from her and scooped her up into his arms. She tried to cover her breasts, but the movement caused an eye-popping pain to slice through her, and she gasped for breath on the short trip to the bathroom.

  Once inside, he set her on her feet but kept his hands on her hips. Acutely aware of her own nudity and, worse, of his nearness and her body’s response to it, she trembled. He kept her steady and flipped open the lid on the toilet and then guided her to sit. Squatting in front of her, he rested his palm like a brand on her thigh.

  “Um.” Her voice quivered. “You’re staying?” To watch her pee? Yes. Death would definitely be preferable.

  “You’re pale, and your pupils are dilated.” As answers went, it was way better than a confession for a fetish. Still, she didn’t plan to pee with him sitting right there.

  “And I’m not doing this with an audience.” Pointing toward the bedroom, she prayed her voice would stay steady. “Please leave.”

  Confusion gave way to suspicion, and he swept a look around the bathroom. Rising, he moved with a kind of hypnotic grace and cleared away several items before walking to the door and then, still facing her, folded his arms.

  “Nope. Not good enough.” She wasn’t sure who was more surprised. He’d killed a couple guys. Okay, fine. Sporting a woody while draping her like she was his personal altar of sex? Sure, that was fine, too. But this? This went too far.

  “Out. All the way and close the door.”

  His eyes narrowed. So, Fox didn’t like orders, either. Too bad.

  “Seriously, even if I wanted to get something to hurt you with, my shoulder is killing me and you just took the weapons. I’m sure there’s a way to kill you with a toothbrush, but I don’t know how to do it. Please let me do this without you in here!”

  Of all the situations she’d landed herself in over the last twenty-four years, this one arguably had to be the worst. “Maybe you could go find some aspirin.”

  He straightened. “Is that an OTC?”

  “Sure.” Why not? “Ibuprofen. Acetaminophen. Whatever. Just three minutes and I’ll be done, and then you can loom over me all threatening and hot and sexy-like.” She was doing really well until the last few words. Heat flamed in her face, and Fox’s mouth curved into a slow smile that had devastating consequences for her equilibrium.

  “As you wish.” After a long, scorching look, he finally stepped out and pulled the door closed behind him. Sagging, Jubilee wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

  Then his voice drifted through the closed door. “Jubilee, don’t try to run. You wouldn’t get far, and we’ll both be a lot more comfortable in the bed than on the floor or in the woods.”

  Oh, hell… The threat didn’t scare her at all. It turned her on.

  When he didn’t say anything else or come back in, she managed to take care of business. Refusing to wait for him astride the porcelain throne, she walked on shaky legs to the sink and washed her hands. She glanced in the mirror and wished she hadn’t. She looked like hell. A part of her wanted to pick up the gauntlet of challenge Fox had thrown with that warning, but the more sensible part of her, all three centimeters, thought it would be better to stay
where she was.

  Another minute passed, and he didn’t reappear. She looked around his very nice, expensive bathroom. It had pretty tile, thick plush rugs, and black marble with silvery veins running through it. Who could afford something like this? A bathtub sat in one corner and a double-headed shower stall in the other. After more time passed, she shivered from the chill and walked over to peek out the door. The bedroom was empty.

  Easing out, she glanced around the darkened bedroom. It’d been late afternoon when she’d stolen into the hotel in an effort to nail Andropov and his drug-dealing scum before they found Barry. Heavy curtains hung along one wall. Cradling her sore arm, she padded over to them and drew back the fabric.

  Night had fallen and all she saw outside the glass was darkness and a hint of a trees.

  But it was what she didn’t see that made her cold all over. No lights. No city. No New York.

  Where the fuck was she?

  Chapter Three

  Fox prepared a small tray with food and hot drinks, and added a small pot of salve. He didn’t have anything that looked like the three products she’d mentioned. However, when he looked them up on his phone, he found aspirin was related to willow bark. Willow bark he had. Though it was a cream made for sore muscles, the potency of which was designed for his kind. He thought the cream would work well enough.

  The sound of her footsteps reached his sharp ears. Exasperated despite his amusement at her inability to obey even the simplest of directives, he waited for the water to finish heating, all the while tracking the whisper of her feet.

  She’d come down the stairs and hesitated in the sunken living room. The estate was large, and he’d added on to it periodically over the years. The house and the property had been a gift following the success of his turning, a gift that demonstrated a sense of loyalty he hadn’t considered in nearly two hundred years. Uninterested in revisiting the past, he listened for the sounds of Jubilee coming to find him. Since the kitchen lights were the only ones on, he’d failed to make her hunt difficult.