The Hunters Series

by Shiloh Walker

  “He did something to my mind,” she whispered, in a soft, almost singsong voice. “Made me afraid. Then he made me want it. Want whatever he wanted to do. And then I shot him.”

  “Shot him?” This wasn’t something he had expected to hear.

  “I shot him and I ran and he found me. He found me and bit me and beat me and made me drink his blood.” She said each word slowly, as if it hurt, as if the words were pulled from her throat like glass.

  “I am sorry, Tori. So very sorry,” he whispered. She had shot a vamp? One who had beguiled her? Ran away and hid?

  She whirled on him and shouted, “I just attacked you and you’re telling me you’re sorry?”

  “You didn’t attack me. I fed you—there’s a difference. And yes. I’m sorry. Sorry this happened. Sorry it happened to you,” he said quietly, deciding she was herself. Or as close to herself as she was likely to get for quite some time. So he moved a little closer. “Do you know what has happened?” It was no surprise, of course, that the vamp had found her after she ran. Vamps could track by scent almost as well as a wolf could.

  But it was surprising that she had shot it. After it had beguiled her. Or tried to.

  She hugged her arms tightly around her body, staring into the distance with blind eyes. “This isn’t possible,” she whispered. “Not possible. I’m going crazy.”

  “No.” Declan started to reach for her and then he let his hand fall. “You aren’t going crazy.”

  “What are you? Are you…like me?”

  “I’m a wolf,” he said quietly.

  She laughed, a shrill painful laugh. “A wolf? The cop I’ve been lusting after for months is a wolf? Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” She whirled away and started pacing the room.

  “A wolf,” she continued to mutter under her breath. “Drinking blood. I’m out of my fucking mind.”

  Declan sighed. With quick, economical motions, he shed his clothes and waited until she caught a glimpse. And then a longer look, until finally she turned and stared at him, her eyes wide, shocked, and heated. Her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t answer as he fell to his knees and cried out as the heat raced along his skin, followed by a flow of fur. It hurt. It always hurt at first. But it was a delicious pain, much like her fangs sinking into his flesh. His face lengthened as a muzzle grew and his longish blond hair thickened and became denser. The flow of fur raced down over his body like a waterfall as his muscles enlarged and his body changed and shifted. The rippling fur obscured much of the change from sight as his arms stretched and lengthened. His chest widened and deepened as a fine pelt of fur covered it, thinning down to a silky pelt over his belly and groin where his cock thrust out—hard and thick and full—perfectly formed.

  His hips were still lean and muscled, covered with that same silky fur that started to thicken as it flowed down his thighs, thighs that were heavy with muscle. Two sickening thuds filled the room as the bones in his legs reformed beneath the fur as it raced on down to his feet, covering them—larger, longer and broader, made better to run and jump and lunge.

  It only took seconds, under a minute, and he was free. The animal inside him rejoiced while the human continued to watch his companion warily. If it had been another vamp, even one of the few he called friends, he never would have shifted in front of them. It left him helpless for a few brief seconds, and he couldn’t ever let down his guard.

  But this was Tori.

  When he finally rose, his bulky body was just a few inches taller than it had been, but larger, more powerful, more muscled. His gait was slightly awkward. Standing on his hind legs in this form tested his balance a bit. But he could walk upright.

  He cocked his head, staring at Tori.

  “Holy shit. You meant a fucking werewolf.”

  “Not exactly were,” he growled, forcing the words over his tongue. It felt so fucking awkward to talk in this form. “Wolf. Moon means nothing.”

  Her eyes trailed lower and lower, pausing on his hard cock. Declan growled deep in his chest. He couldn’t help it. Just her scent made him hard, and the change always had a vaguely sexual feel to it.

  But when she took a step in his direction, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips again, he moved back. “Don’t,” he grunted, shaking his maned head.

  “Why not?”

  He closed his eyes, banished the creeping power. Changing back could be exhausting, but it was painless. Within a few heartbeats of time, he was sitting crossed legged on the floor, naked. And when he looked back at her, it was from human eyes. From human flesh. “It’s not you who wants this,” he said, staring at her while she stared at his straining penis. He closed one fist over his cock, dragging it up the thick, ruddy length slowly, his lids drooping as the rounded head was swallowed by the grip of his hand. A long, raspy sigh escaped him as he pumped his cock, staring at her for a long moment before his hand fell away. Declan rose slowly, shaking his head. “The vampirism has put something new inside you—a hunger you can’t control yet—that is what wants this. Not you.”

  Dragging her eyes from his erection, she stared at him, her own eyes glowing softly, renewed vitality and life and health glowing in her face. And lust.

  “You are wrong,” she said softly.

  “No. You don’t want this, not with me.”

  Reaching out, she closed one slim, cool hand over his cock and squeezed. He hissed, his head falling back. He was trying to be a gentleman here. She was confused, had been hurt and had had her life ripped away from her. He was too decent a guy to take advantage of her, even if he fantasized about it for a few brief seconds.

  But she was making it hard.

  In several ways.

  “You’re wrong. I’ve always wanted you,” she whispered heatedly, dropping to her knees in front of him. Her tongue darted out and she licked him daintily before lifting her shadowed eyes to stare at him. “I always wanted you. And I wanted to live a long, healthy normal life, with a family, and a man to love me.”

  “That was taken away, it seems. But I can have you. Can’t I?”

  A rumbling growl erupted from his throat when her wet, pink lips closed over his cock, and took his length down her throat. One hand came up and fisted in her damp curls, holding her back when she would have swallowed him down a second time.

  He felt her fangs nick him as he pulled away, jerked her to her feet and whirled, pinning her against the wall. He stared at her, gasping for breath while she smiled lazily at him.

  “Always?” he repeated. “If you’ve wanted me, then why haven’t you been with me? I’ve made myself clear on the matter, haven’t I? I knew you were attracted, but you stayed so damn far away.”

  She shrugged lazily. “I had a rule about not getting involved with cops,” she said, the shadows drifting back into her lovely blue eyes while she trailed her hands up and down his side. “I had a lot of rules, and look where they led me.”

  “So, what? You want to fuck me because life fucked you over?”

  “No. Because life has fucked me over, I think maybe I’ll actually start living the way I’ve always wanted, instead of the way I always thought I should,” she replied. Leaning forward, she nipped at his lower lip before staring up at him. “And I have wanted you since the day we met.”

  “Oh, well, then,” Declan said weakly as her hands closed over his ass and pulled him against her pelvis. Son of a bitch, he was no bloody saint.

  Declan’s head lowered and he nuzzled at her neck, cuddled her close to him. Bending over, he tossed her weight over his shoulder and carried her upstairs. Depositing her on the toilet, he turned away and set the hot water to running in the shower.

  He could feel her eyes on him as he knelt in front of her, stripping her torn, filthy clothes from her body—could hear the slightly elevated heartbeat that lust was causing—could smell the old sweat, the filth and blood on her, and the musk of the vampire that had changed her, the decaying scent o
f his blood.

  And under it all he could smell Tori—the scent of peaches and sex, the scent that had driven him out of his mind for months.

  “You have his blood on you,” he said quietly, lifting her in his arms like a child and taking her into the shower. Lowering her to her feet, he reached for shampoo and lathered her hair while the water poured over her body, draining away in a swirl of muddy brown and rust red as the dirt and blood started to slough away. “His smell.”

  Her head fell back and she sighed in pleasure as his hands massaged her scalp, her neck, and her back before he rinsed the suds away. Declan smiled slightly when she jumped under his hands as he soaped her up-thrust breasts and gently curved belly.

  She gasped and flinched, when he carefully cleaned the wound on her neck. He had saved it for last, soaping and rinsing it carefully before lowering his head to kiss the angry red flesh and fading bruises.

  “It still hurts,” she whispered roughly. “But when he did it, I thought the pain alone was going to kill me.”

  “He was angry. They usually save the pain for sex, not feeding. Most vamps, even the feral ones, will make the feeding pleasant,” he said flatly, battling the rage down when her voice broke just a little. “You bled him, didn’t you?”

  Her lashes lowered and she nodded. “Not that it did me any good.” Reaching up, she touched one sharp, pearly fang. “I couldn’t stop him.”

  “Shh,” Declan murmured, lowering his head and kissing her mouth. His tongue slid past her lips and caressed the fangs before going deeper to taste her. As the hot water continued to pulse down around him, he turned and backed her up against the wall, returning to kiss and nuzzle the scarred flesh at her neck before he dropped to his knees in front of her, his mouth seeking out one ruby red nipple and tugging at it with his teeth.

  His other hand caressed and stroked her side, her hips and her ass. His palm glided down the length of her thigh, massaging and stroking his way down to her ankle as he started to kiss his way down her torso—to her navel and the tight curls between her thighs. He slid his tongue between her folds, and lapped at her clitoris as he lifted her ankle and draped her leg over his shoulder, opening her.

  Above him, he could hear her heavy pants, the steady pace of her heart, smell the heavy scent of peaches that seemed to pour from her aroused body. Her nails dug into his flesh when he entered her vagina with his tongue. She came, hot and hard, the second he stroked his fingers between the cheeks of her ass.

  Tori felt the hot, silken stroke of his tongue gliding between her labial lips, felt the caress of his fingers between her buttocks and she whimpered, burying her hands in his hair. The water pounded down on her torso, splattering her face and hair as he started to stroke, in and out, with his tongue.

  She climaxed again with a tiny weak scream, her lungs begging for air, while she gasped and panted. He pulled away slowly, nibbling on her soft, tender flesh and flicking her clit a final time before he withdrew.

  When he slid her leg back down, pulling away from her reluctantly, she collapsed onto his lap, his cock pressed into her belly. “You taste even better than you smell,” he whispered, his voice deep, guttural. “God, I could eat you up.”

  “You just did.” She lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes glowing and blue and deep enough to drown in. And full of hunger again. The look in her eyes was growing less rational by the moment and something not quite human was lurking just behind her face.

  Declan knew he hadn’t fed her enough blood to satiate the urge inside her. He wasn’t certain her control was good enough; hell, he knew it wasn’t.

  When she lowered her open mouth to his throat, he stopped her. “No,” he rasped, catching her face between his hands. “Not yet.” He wasn’t about to let her feast on him while they fucked.

  “Yes,” she whispered, as her personality leaked from her eyes, replaced by the monster.

  “No,” he whispered, catching her mouth with his. She tried to bite him, but he withdrew before she could, returning a second later with more soft caresses while he pinned her hands behind her. She was still weak enough that it wasn’t even a struggle to hold her still so he used his other hand to fondle her.

  And eventually, lust won out over hunger. When he bent to kiss her, Declan shuddered in pleasure as she kissed him in return, her head falling back to allow him better access. When his tongue entered her mouth again she caught it and sucked it delicately, a low hum of pleasure rising from her chest. Carefully, he released her hands, ready to pin her again, but she only planted them on his shoulders and rocked her pelvis against him.

  He grasped her ass in his hands and lifted her. “Do it,” he whispered against her throat. “Take me inside. Aw, fuck.” Her tight wet vagina closed over the tip of his shaft, sliding slowly down as she wound her legs around his waist. Bloody hell, she was tight and hot. How could she be that hot? Declan wondered, arching his hips and working his cock deeper inside her. The few female vamps he had been with had seemed cool until they leeched enough of his body heat to warm their blood, their body, their vaginas.

  Opening his eyes, he stared into her lovely face, watched as color rushed to her cheeks. He’d wonder about that later, he knew. But for now…shit, this was Tori he was holding—Tori’s firm ass he held in his hands, her breasts pushing against his chest as he slid the rest of the way inside her.

  Tori who started to ride him, gripping his cock with the muscles in her pussy and stroking him while she rode him slowly. “So pretty,” he mumbled, reaching up and shoving her wet hair from her face so he could nuzzle at her cheek and jaw, her neck and shoulders.

  He stiffened when her lips brushed his throat, but she didn’t try to bite. Instead, she kissed him softly, then her head fell back and she leaned back, bracing her shoulders against the wall, her pretty round tits lifting up. He leaned forward, pinning her against the wall and taking one nipple in his mouth as he dug his cock inside her.

  “Declan…oh, hell. Declan, please, please, please.” He bit down on her nipple as he drove inside her harder, riding her, listening to her moan and loving it. At the touch of his teeth closing on her flesh, she started to shudder and clamp down around his cock, her hot, wet tissues gripping him in a silken, steel caress that sent him tumbling over the edge. As she came, she milked him tighter, tighter…driving Declan just a little more with each rhythmic pulse.

  Moments later, she started to laugh.

  A little hysterically.

  “Son of a bitch,” she said on a giggle. “What an unbelievable week. I get bitten by a vampire, which logically cannot have happened. Since logically vampires can’t possibly exist. I start hearing voices in my head. And I’m having my fantasy fuck with you; you just happen to turn into a wolf on occasion.”

  Declan smiled, a little sadly. Yeah, a bad week, he was figuring. He shifted, reached and turned off the shower, turning to lift her into his lap. The water drying on his flesh didn’t bother him. He figured it shouldn’t have bothered her either. Being a vamp, she wasn’t likely to notice heat or cold any more.

  So when she started to shiver, Declan’s eyes narrowed. Conversationally, he said, “Your fantasy fuck, hmm? Aye, I like that, seeing as how you’re mine as well.” All the while he was trailing his fingers up and down her arm, before coming to rest on her brachial pulse.

  Oh, he could hear her heart beating well enough. But he didn’t quite trust his ears right now. How could he? When they were telling him that her heart was easily beating a good forty times a minute? It shouldn’t be beating more than twenty or thirty, or even less, considering they had just fucked themselves into a stupor.

  A vamp’s heart tended to beat no more than ten to twenty times a minute—even when excited. And after expending energy, it tended to slow down to even less. Hell, he knew vamps that could go nearly an hour between heartbeats. Older vamps had hearts that would slow and stop completely, until feeding again.

  So why was hers beating at a steady forty-six beats a minute?
And she was actually breathing. He could hear the air moving in and out of her lungs, little things he had missed earlier, in his shock.

  “What voices?” he asked, wanting a little more time to try puzzling this out.

  But since she was cold—and shaking with it now—he rose, holding her in his arms like he’d hold a child.

  While he was drying her body off, she said, “A woman. She reminded me of my grandmother. Grandma Alice was Native American, the granddaughter of an old medicine man. She was…wise, spiritual. Special. And the voice I heard reminded me of her.”

  “When did you hear this?”

  “After I called you the last time. While I was waiting for him to find me.”

  His head flew up and he stopped drying her long, lovely legs—stopped imagining them around his waist while he took her against the wall again. Eyes narrowed, he repeated softly, “Waitin’ for him to find you? Ya knew he was coming, ya idiot girl, and ya didn’t go hide?”

  One black brow lifted and she said, “Your Irish really comes out when you’re angry, you know, Declan?” And then she shrugged. “He would have found me. I wouldn’t have been safe, so why bother?”

  He bit down a dozen nasty curses and asked tersely, “What exactly was this voice telling you while you were waiting for death to come knocking?”

  “Orange juice. Acid. Bleed.” Her eyes had darkened and become haunted. Then she shook her head and looked back at him, shaking off the memories he knew were returning. “The voice was whispering all sorts of things. Whispering them inside my head…poison my blood…drink as much acidic stuff as I could. Drink acidic juices. The acid upsets their metabolism somehow. It told me it would change my blood and the vampire wouldn’t be able to ingest it. Make the vampire bleed. Don’t let him get much of my blood inside him. That the sun will hurt or kill weaker vamps and lesser vamps. Lesser vamps? To make him bleed, even if it wouldn’t kill him. To hide.”

  Then her eyes narrowed. “And eat. She kept telling me when it was over, I had to eat. Had to. And when I—” Her voice faltered and she stopped, closing her eyes and forcing herself to breathe steadily. “And when I woke up, she said it again. Loudly, until I finally did it. I ate, and ate, and ate, and ate. And then I hid.”