Creature Comforts

by Creature Comforts (lit)

  “He wasn’t my wolf.” You are mine. The words caught in her throat, strangled. She inhaled a hot breath steeped in her would-be mate’s aroused, angry scent and pulled against her trapped wrists. She spoke quietly in the intimate darkness. “I did not want him.”

  “You Called him. You would have bonded him if you’d met him first.”

  “Yes.” They’d been through this before, again and again. She had no regrets for her choices. She was alive. Reggie was alive. “I wanted to be safe.” Now she wanted to be accepted. Aspired to be loved.

  Hands suddenly free, India steadied herself against the nearest solid surface. A warm bare shoulder. Moist breath on her cheek made her shiver in spite of herself. She closed her eyes. “What do you want Chase?” The name felt awkward. Her heart protested. She wanted her Tag, fun and playful or Charles, comforting and understanding in the in-between places. Chase was the cold warden who did not like or want her.

  India slid down into the pillows, unresisting as a prickly bearded cheek scraped against her soft one. His hard, and naked she suspected, male body fit over the blanketed contours of hers. His legs and pelvis nestled between hers. “Chase?” Whiskers tickled her neck, near her ear. The slight wetness of an inquisitive taste made her shiver as he buried himself against her. A hard thrust against her core.

  “I don’t know what I want.” He released his hold on the matebond, allowing her to feel the confusion and loneliness that battered him.

  “I don’t want to be alone.” India smoothed a hand over the sleek muscles of his shoulder. In the dark, she could forget he was the hard warden who’d run her down. That he was only marking time until she severed the matebond. She imagined baring her soul to the golden-eyed wolf in the dream forest. “I don’t want to run anymore.” His arms tightened around her, clenching into the blanket. His nose burrowed deeper against her neck.

  “My best friend left me alone.” He stilled, realizing he’d made a plaintive childish confession. His nose found her bare shoulder, rubbed against the soft texture. Slowly, India rubbed the curve of his muscled shoulder, waiting without censure. Bit by bit, he relaxed into her again. Soft male lips rubbed against her shoulder, contrasting with the surrounding rough male bristle. “I thought we were brothers, you know? Twenty-odd years. We were bitten together. Did the stray thing for awhile. Settled here ‘cause Tank wanted to.

  “Back in the day, me and Tank would find a Hunter, tag team the bastard, and be done with it. Then we settled here and it was all about keeping the peace. Territory. Making a safe place for the kids. But it was still just us, me and Tank.” India’s fingers found the base of his neck and sank into the warm soft texture of hair. She listened with both her ears and what emotions the matebond gave her. A sense of loss, of being set adrift. “Now it’s not. It won’t be ever again.”

  “Because of me.” India accepted the responsibility. He’d been content with his life before she hijacked him. “I’m sorry for that.”

  The quick nip on her shoulder stung, making her jump. The tiny pain soothed away with an apologetic swipe of tongue. The next nip was much softer. “No. Don’t be sorry. I’m an ass.” His voice a deep male whisper.

  “Do you want me to undo the bond?” India held very still, her hands still imbedded in the tangle of hair above her. She her breath, closed her eyes against what she was sure would be his bid for freedom. Diana might kill her, but she’d have to try and lose her tenuous place in the pack. She’d never realized how much a pack wolf she was. How much she liked the security of the stronger above protecting her, the weaker below needing her protection and affection.

  “Didn’t I just tell you I was an ass?” Strong teeth nipped at her shoulder in gentle reprimand. “No. Don’t undo it.”

  “I already knew that.” India turned her head, pressing a smile into warm flesh. Giddy relief turned her insides to quivery mush. Emotion welled up inside.

  “You knew I didn’t want to undo it? Damn woman, you make a guy to work to apologize.”

  Her snort sounded watery even to her. “You really are an ass.” She wriggled underneath him, untangling herself as she turned. Wetness leaked from her eyes. “A heavy one.”

  “Are you crying?” The comforting weight left her. Left the bed. Sharp light made her cover her eyes, then wipe at the remaining tears. Chase stood, one hand on the light switch, squinting through the glare at her. Naked and tanned all over, he took her breath away. Long hair that would have been effeminate on another man, spilled in a golden mane around him. The effect showcased every sleek, sculpted muscle, from the chiseled planes of his chest to the rippled muscles lining his abdomen. “You are crying.” His handsome face pinched with concern. Three long legged strides took him back to the bed. “Do you want to undo it?”

  “No.” Hiding behind the safety of the covers, India followed him with her eyes. Chase propped a knee on the edge of the mattress, drawing attention to his growing assets. The scent of his desire ratcheted up her own. Feeling more sure, she cocked her head, a tiny smile gracing her lips as she met his eyes in a daring sidelong glance before lowering her lashes. “But there’s something I’d like to do.”

  Sweeping down to pull the fabric barrier away, he settled over her, skin to skin. India sucked in a breath at the delicious feel of her mate surrounding her. The matebond telegraphed both their needs, heightening feeling, loosing instincts held in check. “Mine,” Chase growled, his fingers digging into the bed. Magic shivered in the air as they rode the fine line between Changing and not.

  “Mine,” India echoed. Her dark eyes gleamed red. Her hands gripped shoulders as her legs locked around her mate’s waist, pushing her heated, liquid center against his full erection. They joined in an explosion of sensation. India’s arms pulled at his neck, while she strained to bring their joined bodies closer. “Ch-Cha-ssse,” His name stuttered out on a hiss of pleasure, tripping her uncertainty through matebond.

  Tracing the outside shell of his mate’s ear, Chase growled softly. “No, Cleo. I won’t let you go.” He turned his attention to nibbling her jaw, the sexy curve of her wide, full lips. “Say it right, baby.”

  “Tag,” She breathed into the kiss. “My Tag.”

  “Damn right. And you’re it.” Pumping solidly into her, Chase found the one angle that made her breath hitch. He peeled her arms from around his neck, pinning them to the bed, pure, dominate male. His nostrils flared as he deepened the strokes, eyes glowing red as he concentrated on his mate’s pleasure. With a cry, her back bowed, her muscles clamping tight around him so that the next stroke nearly undid him.

  Pulling free, India growled, using her legs to break his rhythm. Her hands sought and found the sweat damp skin of his back, scoring down, drawing a ragged sound from deep in his throat. Finding her hands, Chase locked fingers with her, pinning her underneath again. His movements became more intense, the need to bury himself as deep and hard and fast into his mate, dragged another strangled sound out of her. India’s body clenched hard around him, her body rigid in a second climax. Chase pounded into her, the hot grip of pleasure bursting suddenly from him. Throwing his head back, he let go, a cry of pleasure, of surrender torn from his soul as he reflexively pumped twice more before slumping in replete exhaustion.

  Underneath him, India let her legs slide from his waist. Her heavy breathing mimicked his and he gently disengaged their hands, blinking in confusion at the clawed ends of his fingers. A snicker from his mate brought a sharp hiss as she clamped down on his over stimulated sex, still buried inside her. Slipping out with another hiss, he flopped down beside her, forcing his hands back to their fully human state. With two fingers he picked up a piece of the shredded sheet. “Looks like we’re going to have to invest in some heavy duty sheets.”

  “Or go without,” she agreed. “Maybe sleep in a nest.”

  “Not likely.” Chase flopped back, shifting as he tried to find a comfortable spot on the mattress. “Damn. Where’d they find this thing? A yard sale?”

 
; “It’s not bad,” India turned, snuggling up. Her nose bumped his arm even as he sat up.

  “This isn’t going to work.” Aggravated, he climbed out of the bed, not seeing the hurt in his mate’s eyes. Feeling the emotion, he frowned, swooped down to gather the wiggling female in his arms.

  “Put me down.” She slapped at him, anger biting along the matebond.

  “Woman.” Jostling her, but still keeping a firm grip, Chase headed for the door. “What is wrong?” She slapped at him again, twisting like the slippery hard to hold animal she could Change into. “We had sex.”

  Stopping her escape attempt, she glared at him. “We had sex. Now you want to undo the bond?”

  “Hell no. What are you talking about? That wasn’t just sex. It was the best sex I’ve ever had.” And it was. Nothing compared to the feeling of connection, the intimacy of joining with his mate. “I thought it was pretty damn good for you too.”

  “I—” India reached out and grasped the door as he opened it, halting his progress. “Where are we going?” Confusion made her features go soft, a little unfocused. Chase felt his libido revving back up at the thought of that look, very close to the one where she was mindless under him, just before she toppled over into climax. To hell with his roommate’s OCD. He’d supervise moving Tank’s crap to another room later. Tonight, before he left again, Chase wanted his mate in his bed moaning in ecstasy.

  “To my room.” She blinked, making him want to groan. “To my bed.” He nodded back at the awkward tilt of the bed. Obviously, something had broken in the middle of their play and they hadn’t noticed. Shreds of material and stuffing littered the head and foot area. The whole thing was trashed. “There is no way I’m sleeping on that, even with you to curl up with. I’ve got a king-sized Sleep Number bed on a strong wood frame. Eight hundred count organic cotton sheets. Four memory foam pillows in both regular and king.” Lowering his voice to a seductive whisper, Chase breathed the latest purchase for his sweet, sweet night-time resting place. “Kevlar mattress cover with a steel thread core. The sheets may be toast, but the mattress is covered.”

  With a snort of relieved happiness, India let go of the door. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “In that case…”

  Chase grinned. “Come with me, lady. I’ll even let you pick the number.”

  “Hmmm. Isn’t that the bed that Wonder Woman sleeps on?”

  “Nope. The Bionic Woman. Besides, I wouldn’t let just anyone change my Sleep Number.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Carter,

  What the hell are you doing? Haven’t heard from you in days. Attached to this email is the .pdf copy of the truck’s title and the owner’s Texas driver’s license. According to my sources, the local werewolf pack is not big at all. Around twelve adults, not counting the young.

  There’s been a Gathering and consensus among the deacons is to take them out. They’ll still pay Garrick Moser’s bounty if you take out his old pack. You’ve got the resources. Get it done and get the fuck out. Rumors of fairy disturbances in North Carolina. Need you there.

  Chuck

  Finger hovering over the delete key, Carter mentally counted to ten. Chowderhead could call himself whatever he wanted. He always was and would be a dumb ass chowderhead. And who the hell did he think he was? The deacons could have all the Gatherings they wanted. That didn’t give them any authority over the Hunters. His kind had worked independently to protect mankind since before the Holy Crusades.

  Angry, but not stupid, he ran the file through Dhamphir. The anti-virus, anti-spyware, and pretty much anti-everything you don’t want near your computer program he’d traded from another Hunter, developed by that Hunter’s assistant, was better than anything on the market. In a few seconds, the cheesy vampire coffin appeared on the screen. The program’s top notch video game graphics and outline were both amazingly entertaining and tacky. The coffin lid would have squeaked on opening if Carter had the sound on the laptop on. Inside, a sexy Elvira-style vamp, slept in peaceful damnation, indicating that the file was infected. A safe file would have an empty coffin. The open coffin lid listed all the potential dangers of downloading the file.

  Hard drive access.

  Previously accessed document and program listing.

  Previously accessed document upload to server.

  IP address global location.

  What was the little prick up to? Carter chose the option Stake The Bitch and hands, hammer and old fashioned stake appeared. With the mute on, Elvira silently screamed and writhed as the stake was hammered in. Blood spurted on the screen, dripping down in a gory display. The coffin closed on a twitching, but dead vampire. Choosing the option to scan computer for infection, Carter gave the movie style monster werewolf being chased by a Hunter with a shotgun a cursory glance before pulling out his old fashioned, tried and true notebook.

  Carter remembered telling his father how computers were the future. The machines would take monster hunting to a new level, making their jobs easier. Information gathering, communication, the monsters wouldn’t have a chance.

  Tracker had just smiled at his son’s prediction. “Carter, never underestimate the enemy. What you’ve thought of, one of them’s already had the same idea,” his father loved to say. Tracker kicked back to enjoy a rare cigar. He believed that tobacco, while it masked psychic abilities, gave one away just by the lingering odor. Carter never developed the habit, especially after tobacco companies came under fire. Tracker’s cigars though were a comforting memory. “Computers and science will only complicate the job, son. Mark my words.”

  And technology had. Slowly, insidiously, Hunters relied too much on gadgets and not enough on instinct. True, Carter admitted that he liked his toys. He missed the solid efficiency of his Hummer. Tranqs were a convenience, letting you choose to knock out or poison a supernatural, but didn’t negate the effectiveness of the old fashioned methods. He’d liked his old cell phone, with it’s GPS navigator, Web access, MP3 player, and dozens of other nifty options. But his cheap phone had Bluetooth capability and picked up a signal well enough for him to get by and he wasn’t distracted by the toys.

  Inside the notebook listed the names of Tamara’s pack that she’d dropped in the course of their conversations and observations based on her comments and stories. Her closest ‘friends and family’.

  Adam and Diana were married. “People she really looked up to.” Alpha pair, Carter noted. Mark and Bailey were sweet and funny according to Tamara. Carter didn’t think this pair was going to be a problem. “Rick is a pig. If he doesn’t learn how to treat women, he’s never going to get a girlfriend.” Tamara complained. Typical single-guy attitude. He had notes about someone named Tank who had left town.

  Bradley never seemed to approve of her actions. Tamara’s hurt little sigh made Carter think that this was the guy, who’d taken the sunshine from her that day at the Super Supercenter. The werewolf in the black truck he’d followed to Neches and back. Several males, computer geeks, who needed to get out more. Chase and his new girlfriend, who she wasn’t sure was good enough for him. Tamara worried constantly about her Pack. The children needed to get out more and interact with the children from town or they’d be socially inept. She was a veritable fount of information about his enemies, never realizing what she was giving away. Or what he planned to do with the information.

  Carter smiled grimly, glad his information never made it to the computer. He was in charge of his own hunt. He was the one who chose which monsters would live and which deserved to die.

  But first it was time to do some housecleaning.

  Chapter Twenty

  Before daylight, Four wolven males and Morgan the fairy lord ranged in a loose circle around still warm remains of a completely toasted small-sized truck. Bradley crouched behind the bed, already having made the circle of the vehicle. The rest of the wolven carefully sipped super-hot coffee from a fast-food drive thru. Both by the early morning and the isolation of a back county road sheltered th
eir actions.

  Bradley stood up, his eyes seeking that of his Alpha, not the fairy lord whom he owed. “It’s the same truck that followed me. Blue Ford Ranger. License plates are gone, but the VIN number probably won’t give us more than the previous owner. Might be able to get a description of our Hunter from him though.”

  “VIN tag is gone.” Chase reached in through the shattered driver’s window to rub at the charred bare spot where the metal tag identifying the vehicle had once been. The state tag and inspection sticker had been scraped off prior to torching. Opening the driver’s door, he shook his head at the blue inside edge. “Manufacturer sticker’s been removed too.”

  “Guess our guy didn’t want us to track him down.” Brandon took another sip of his coffee. His eyes narrowed in thought. “It’s going to be the hotel records. Even counting the roach motels and bed and breakfasts, this area only has a hand full of places to stay. If he’s circling, he’ll have to hit the same ones more than once. ”

  “Unless, he’s renting a lease,” Bradley reminded. He looked over at Chase, who nodded.

  “I know some guys that rent off season. Retreats and stuff.”

  Adam extended a hand to his ally. “Thanks Morgan for the heads-up.”

  Morgan nodded, accepting the brief handshake. “I have people watching.” He paused in thought, then raised his eyebrows. “Speaking of watching. All your people on lockdown?” Adam nodded and the fairy’s lips pressed together as if debating something. “I don’t want to be the bringer of tales, but the theater’s still listing Seth in the cast. The Man of La Manche is getting good reviews in the local papers.”

  “Thanks.” Adam nodded and turned to his truck. The three wardens piled in too, each giving Morgan in his plaid western shirt and hat a respectful nod. He didn’t say a word, but his men felt the rising anger. Brandon looked out the front passenger window. Bradley and Chase settled into the back cab in neutral silence. Little brother Seth rarely got into trouble, but none of them envied the young male once their Alpha finished with him.