“Stop! STOP!” she shrieked breathlessly, her abs aching as tears of laughter streamed out of the corners of her eyes. “I swear I’m going to die if you don’t stop.”
He pulled back instantly. “I’m sorry.” Shame filled his eyes and he looked away.
Angela frowned as she sat up, cupping his face as she turned his head so he would look at her. “You’ve really got to stop getting upset every time I go and say something dramatic like that. I don’t actually mean that I think you’re killing me. I know you’d never hurt me.”
His eyes darkened then, a sneer curling his lip. “And how exactly do you know that?”
Angela sucked in a breath. “Because I’ve just spent the last hour naked and vulnerable around you, and you haven’t taken advantage of me yet?”
“But I could.” His jaw tightened. “I could kill you so easily, and even erase all traces of it so that nobody would ever find out. And yet here you are, still lying here naked with me.” He laughed bitterly. “You’ve got to be some kind of fool.”
Anger flared bright and hot in Angela’s chest, and she shoved hard at Cole’s chest, sending him crashing into the love seat. A snarl curled her lips back as she jumped to her feet, her eyes glowing orange, and it was a miracle she managed to grasp enough willpower not to pounce on him and start raining punches down on his gorgeous face.
“Let’s get this straight right now,” she spat, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. “I might be a female, and you might be stronger than me, but I’m no easy kill, and I won’t stand to be called a fool in my own home, especially after I’ve gone out of my way to give you my hospitality.” The shock on his face as he gaped up at her was priceless, but not nearly enough to pacify her, especially when a healthy dose of humiliation joined the anger burning a hole through her chest. “I apologize for offending you with my kindness and my naked body. Good night.”
She stomped past him to the safety of her bedroom, and slammed the door shut behind her, blinking back hot tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Her heart ached fiercely at the rejection, and she barely managed to refrain from snatching a vase off her dresser and throwing it against the wall. He would hear that and know she was having a temper tantrum, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Throwing herself down onto her bed, she closed her eyes against the tears and tried desperately to fall asleep. Maybe when she woke up, Cole would be gone and she’d discover that everything that happened tonight had just been one long, horrible nightmare.
Chapter Six
The aroma of coffee and pastries woke Angela long before she was ready to open her eyes. Groaning, she turned her face into the pillow and tried to block out the scent, but the sounds of Cole moving around in the kitchen arrested her attention. Thoughts like, Dammit, it wasn’t a nightmare, and What the hell is he doing out there? prodded at her consciousness until she was firmly pulled from the sinking pool of darkness that was sleep, and back into the light again.
“Shit,” she muttered, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was 10:00am, which meant she’d only gotten four hours of sleep. Sitting up, she came face to face with her reflection in the mirror seated atop her dresser, and debated whether or not to splash some water over her pasty, make-up streaked face or run a brush through her tangled hair before shuffling outside to find the source of the aroma that woke her up.
What’s the point? a bitter voice asked. It isn’t like you’ve got anyone out there to impress.
Lifting her chin, she dragged her eyes away from the mirror and strolled into the living room as if she didn’t look like the latest reject from an episode of The Walking Dead. Cole was standing behind the kitchen counter fixing up a paper cup of coffee, his actions largely obscured by the ginormous white paper bag at his elbow. Angela squinted at it, trying to divine the contents and wishing she had laser vision.
Cole glanced up at her, then raised an eyebrow. “You can look inside the bag, you know.”
She crossed her arms. “Didn’t want to make any sudden moves. You know, in case you thought I was trying to attack you or something.”
Scowling, he pushed the bag toward her, then plucked a second cup of coffee from the counter and placed it up on the bar countertop. “I went out and grabbed some breakfast while you were snoring away in there. Figured we should fuel up before we head out.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said flatly, hopping up onto one of the cherry red barstools. She gulped down the entire cup of coffee in ten seconds flat, then pulled out an apple fritter and an egg and cheese croissant and went to town. Holy Jesus, thank God, her body seemed to cry out as the food hit her stomach. She was starved, and because of the sleep deprivation, she was going to need a hell of a lot more fuel.
She worked her way through two croissants and four apple fritters, and tried to ignore the fact that Cole’s eyes were on her the whole time. Unfortunately her subconscious had better ideas. Is he staring at the rat’s nest on my head? Do I have apple filling on my cheek? Is this his way of apologizing for last night?
The last one made her blood heat again. A couple of pastries were not going to make her forgive him, especially since he’d made her feel like a total fool for having sex with him. And she was not going to compromise her integrity by bringing up the incident from last night in order to get him to apologize. He was either going to do it himself, or he wasn’t. She refused to beg.
“You got the directions to the race track?” she asked as she slipped off the bar stool, wiping croissant flakes from her cheeks and feeling marginally normal again.
“Already programmed it into the GPS.”
“Great. I’m grabbing a shower. Be ready to leave in fifteen.” She turned away.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” he said sarcastically, and she rolled her eyes, annoyed at herself for having to fight the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
* * *
Cole tried to focus on the GPS’s directions as he drove the Camaro through mildly hellish San Francisco traffic, but the guilt he’d been carrying since last night was still burning a hole through his chest, and it was making it much more difficult to concentrate than expected. He’d lain on the blow up mattress all night, staring up at the ceiling and wondering why the fuck he hadn’t been able to just keep his mouth shut instead of letting all the negativity inside of him spew out.
Really, what was wrong with him that he felt compelled to call the first shifter female who’d ever slept with him a fool, for giving him the very thing he’d craved his entire life?
Your self-destructive tendencies will be your undoing someday. Master Enoch’s voice echoed in his ears, the one mage who had been kind enough to take him in, and teach him some rudimentary skills to provide a foundation for him. Cole clenched his jaw, his knuckles whitening as his hands tightened on the wheel. The past was a very, very bad place to go, especially when he needed to concentrate on the mission ahead.
“Hey! Turn right!” Angela rapped him on the arm.
Cole swore as he realized he was in the wrong lane and jerked the steering wheel, cutting off a white Escalade and earning himself a barrage of one-fingered salutes and a cacophony of blaring horns. Ignoring it all, he turned the corner and floored the gas, effectively putting some distance between him and the Escalade for at least three feet before he was forced to switch lanes again or rear-end a grandma driving a beat up Corolla.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Angela hissed. “What the hell just happened back there? Do you need me to drive?”
“No,” Cole growled through clenched teeth. “We’re fine now.”
Except, of course, that wasn’t true, he thought as they turned down another street and headed onto the Bay Bridge. He knew it wasn’t, as he caught a glimpse of the hurt in Angela’s eyes before she turned her gaze to the glistening waters of the San Francisco Bay racing past them as they crossed over into Oakland. He’d lashed out at her needlessly last night, and had fractured whatever tentative ti
e had been forming between them, and he knew he had to fix it if he wanted them to be able to work together smoothly.
But part of the problem was that he wasn’t sure that he actually wanted to fix it. A hybrid developing ties with a full-blooded shifter? Such things were unheard of for a reason. Hybrids were considered volatile and dangerous by supernaturals as a whole, since the merging of genes from different races resulted in unpredictable powers and abilities, as well as occasional mental instability depending on the pairing. As far as he knew, a mage-and-shifter hybrid wasn’t one of the more unstable ones, but because both sides felt so strongly about preserving bloodlines, hybrids tended to be hunted and destroyed. Her family would never welcome him with open arms, which meant there was no future for them since for a shifter, pack or clan approval meant everything.
If he did try to patch things up with her, it would only bring them closer together, and what was the point if, in the end, they would have to part separate ways? Why did he need to cause himself the needless pain of having to leave behind something he wanted, needed, craved? If it wasn’t available to him in the first place, there was nothing to miss.
If you wanted to make sure you had nothing to miss, you shouldn’t have had sex with her last night.
Cole swallowed a wince. He really didn’t know what he had been thinking last night, but it couldn’t be undone, and the truth of it was inescapable. Every time he looked at Angela he thought about how she’d looked spread out on the beanbag chair beneath him, how her curves had felt as if they were made specifically to be molded against his body, how sweet she’d smelled and tasted. He knew her essence would haunt him for many years after he left, and that he’d wake up with the sound of her voice in his ears and the phantom of her taste on his tongue, aching for her.
That’s pretty pathetic, the mage part of him sneered.
Maybe, but it was also part of his genetic make-up. Once the shifter half of him met a compatible mating prospect, resisting the compulsion to follow through was hell. He’d already been through that once, thank you very much, and he had no desire to repeat the experience. The best cure for his affliction was for him to get as far away from Angela as physically possible, which meant getting this mission done and over with so he could be on his way.
With that matter settled in his mind, he parked in the lot outside the Golden Gate Fields and made their way into the track. The Fields were huge, spanning one hundred and forty acres, and Cole stood for a moment just inside the entrance after they’d paid admission, taking in the sprawling greenery and the enormity of the stadium. Though the seats were only half-filled, the buzz and excitement of the crowd still filled the air, infecting him with enthusiasm as he watched the jockeys and their horses lining up at their gates.
“If you think this is amazing, you ought to try coming here during one of the more popular races,” Angela said quietly. He looked down at her, and his pulse picked up a little as he caught the sparkle in her stunningly green eyes. “It’s so much more impressive when the rows are filled with screaming horse racing fans.”
Cole couldn’t help but snort a little. “Sounds like I’d just end up with a case of bleeding ear drums.”
Angela smirked. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.” She brushed past him as she stepped into the aisle, her eyes flat and all-business as she scanned the crowds. Cole tried not to be annoyed as he followed her out there and focused on the same thing – finding the werewolf.
It didn’t end up taking too long to locate him – a few discreet questions led them to the far left of the stadium, where they found Marcus weaving his way discreetly between the seats with a small black book, taking bets from spectators. He bore little resemblance to the fierce brawler who’d nearly ripped out the vampire’s throat last night, dressed in a white polo tucked into tan slacks, his black hair slicked back, and liberally coated with gel. He didn’t even notice when Angela sidled up behind him, too busy chattering away.
“Okay, so you’re doing fifty for the chestnut, is that right?” He made a note down in his book as he accepted the money from a woman in a red and white polka dotted dress and a wide-brimmed hat. “Good, good, now is the gentleman looking at the roan over there? Oh yeah, she’s a real beauty, isn’t she? Definitely a good choice – ”
“Excuse me.” Angela tapped him on the shoulder. “Can we have a word, Mr. Lopez?”
He turned around, and it was almost comical the way his million-watt smile evaporated at the sight of Angela. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re doing here bothering me like this, but it’s not necessary,” he began, sidling away from her. “Dimitri and I both agreed not to press charges – ”
“Oh, so you’re on a first-name basis with the vampire who tried to rip your throat out last night?” Cole asked conversationally.
Marcus paled, and the two humans behind him broke out into a flurry of whispers, eyeing him nervously. “Jesus Christ, could you say that any louder?” he hissed, ushering them both forward. “You’re gonna ruin my business!”
“Yeah, I feel real bad about putting a wrench in your illegal venture,” Angela drawled, clamping a hand around his upper arm and dragging him off into the corner, away from prying eyes.
“Please,” he whined, sounding a hell of a lot more like a naughty five year old than a hulking werewolf who could probably crush Angela’s skull if he really wanted to. “Don’t bust my balls over this. This is how I pay my rent!”
Angela’s face reddened, and she slammed Marcus into the wall, knocking his head against the concrete. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to aid and abet someone in kidnapping a Protector!” she snarled.
Marcus’s face paled. “A what?”
Angela bared her teeth. “My partner. She was taken last night by a pack of rebel shifters while you and your vampire friend were distracting everyone.” She leaned in close. “If she is dead or permanently harmed in any way by the time I find her, I will come back here, rip your testicles off with my bare hands, and force-feed them to you.”
Cole winced, his own balls shriveling up inside him at the mere suggestion. Note to self – do not threaten her loved ones.
Marcus sputtered. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t know that I was involved with any kidnapping – we were just being paid to stir up a ruckus in the bar to try and drive away some of the Crazy Horse’s business.”
Cole narrowed his eyes. “And who exactly told you to do this?”
Marcus pressed his lips together. “Well, Dimitri’s the one who gave me all the details. He’s the one who got the job and brought me in on it. I haven’t been doing so hot with the bookie business, so I needed some extra cash, and – ”
Cole waved his hand impatiently. “Yeah, yeah. We don’t need your sob story. So you’re telling me that your vampire friend Dimitri told you this little stunt was to damage the Crazy Horse’s reputation?”
The werewolf nodded.
Angela rolled her eyes. “Did your friend Dimitri also mention just how many fucking bar fights occur in the Crazy Horse on a monthly basis?” She shook her head. “That’s got to be the stupidest lie I’ve ever heard of.”
Marcus’s face flushed. “Hey, I wasn’t about to ask questions. I was just there for the money.”
“Right,” Angela sneered. She looked like she wanted to say a hell of a lot more, but Cole interjected, trying to get things back on track.
“Did you ever meet or speak to the man who hired you and Dimitri?”
Marcus shook his head. “His name is Bran, that’s all I know.” He swallowed hard, his eyes darting back and forth. “I can get you the address to Dimitri’s coterie, if that helps any. I’m really sorry about your partner. But I really don’t know anything else.” He sounded defeated.
Angela sighed, then pulled out a pad and paper from her jacket pocket. “If this turns out to be a dud, I’m coming back for you. And if I do, I’m taking you down to the station.”
Marcus nodded vigorously. “If you nee
d anything, call me,” he said, scribbling his number down next to the address. “I’ll do what I can to help you out.”
“Well that was interesting,” Cole remarked as they walked back out to the parking lot. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, fingering the sharp edges of the keys he kept nestled into the fabric. “I’m surprised you went so easy on him.”
Angela sighed, looking down at the ground as she kicked a rock across the asphalt, trying not to lose it. “He’s harmless enough, and he gave us some decent info.” Her shoulders tightened. “I’m going to run this address in the system, make sure he isn’t sending us into a death trap.”
“Good idea.” They climbed into the car, and Cole sat back in his seat and waited as she called the precinct and had someone run the address. As she chattered on the phone, he studied her, his thoughts going back to how she’d handled Marcus. Though she’d initially been furious at the werewolf, in the end she’d shown him leniency, even refraining from busting his illegal (though admittedly relatively harmless) operation, despite the fact that he was partially responsible for her partner’s capture. It seemed to be in her nature to forgive, which explained why she’d so readily accepted him into her home last night and offered her body to him despite knowing who and what he was.
It suddenly made him feel like a total ass for taking advantage of that, and worse, for spurning her after he’d been done with her.
“The address is a residence in Sunnyside,” she told him after she’d hung up. “It’s in a reasonably good neighborhood, so that’s some comfort, though all bets are off once we actually go inside.”
Cole snorted. “Sunnyside? That’s a strange kind of irony.”
“True.” Angela started to smile, then stopped, as if she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be friendly with him.
Cole sighed. “Look, Angela…” he hesitated, still not totally sure where to begin. In the end, he decided straightforward was the best way to go. “I won’t deny that I was a total ass last night.”
Bear Meets Girl Page 6