by Cynthia Eden
“Later . . . Everything . . . later.”
Piers’s teeth snapped together but he gave a fast nod. A nod Lucas didn’t see. The alpha’s eyes had closed again.
Dane shoved the gas pedal down to the floor as he raced away from the mambo’s house. He didn’t think they’d be followed by Marie’s men, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
They’d have to watch out for the mambo until she collected her pound of flesh. Spells never came cheap. He knew. He’d sure bled for plenty over the years.
“Caleb.” Lucas’s voice rasped and Dane realized the alpha wasn’t out completely, not yet.
Dane’s gaze met Piers’s in the rearview mirror.
“He’s . . . dead,” Lucas said.
Maybe. “We don’t know for sure what happened to him. Our priority was gettin’ you out, we didn’t—”
“No.” Said with more heat. “To us, dead. If you see him . . . again . . .”
Caleb. A man who’d been like a brother to him for ten years. A wolf who’d attacked their alpha with fangs and claws.
Dane’s fingers squeezed the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Send someone . . . back for his body . . .” The alpha’s breath heaved out. “If he . . . lives . . . I want him brought to the pack.” A growl built in his throat. “Trial by pack.”
Oh, shit. That meant a fight to the death.
How the hell had this happened? Dane’s jaw locked. All these years, and he’d never known a traitor stood right next to him.
Chapter 12
Sarah awoke to the feel of rough fingertips sliding down her arm. She gasped, jerked, and a hand closed over her wrist. A light pain hit her at the touch—the flesh sensitive—and her eyes flew open.
She found herself staring into intense blue eyes. Lucas.
Sarah didn’t realize she’d murmured his name until his lips kicked up in a faint smile. The light of dawn surrounded him. “Not dead yet, babe.”
And she was so very grateful for that fact.
His fingers slid over the inside of her wrist. Her breath hissed out.
His gaze dropped to the jagged wound, a wound that had healed so much. Too much. “What happened?”
She sat up, and when the cold air hit her chest, she realized she was naked. Sarah snatched up the sheet with her right hand, feeling vulnerable. Nervous. Time for him to know everything. “I-I made a trade with a voodoo priestess.”
He didn’t blink. “What did you trade?”
Everything. “I don’t really know . . . Marie will—”
“How’d you know to visit Marie Dusean?” he asked, his thumb still caressing her flesh.
Sarah bit her lip. “I didn’t know—we just needed magic. It was the only thing that would save you. Piers—he knew how to find her.”
“Sonofabitch.”
“You were dying! There wasn’t a choice.” Her gaze dropped to his stomach. He was fully healed. The only sign of his ordeal was a raised line on his stomach. Shifter healing, got to love it. “The silver was destroying you.”
“No, it was burning me. Fucking burning me alive.” His fingers fell away. “You don’t know what you’ve done, do you?”
Saved your ass.
“If Marie cut you, she used your blood in a spell. She did something to you, Sarah.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what. I can’t remember a damn thing, but she’s got power over you now. Power over you and power over me.” His eyes narrowed. “Marie is a very dangerous woman.”
“She’s also the woman who saved your life.” The sheet seemed cool against her flesh. Lucas’s touch had been red-hot. “When she calls me, I’ll pay my debt.”
“No matter what? Marie’s a woman used to the shadows. Life and death . . .” A rough laugh broke from him. “They don’t always have meaning for her.”
She stared at him. Bright eyes. Strong body. Alive. “They do for me.”
The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he closed in on her. His hands came down on either side of Sarah, caging her. “You’ve been keeping secrets, sweet Sarah.”
Oh, crap, this was it. “Lucas . . .”
His lips brushed hers, stealing her breath. She wanted to press into him. To take his mouth, to take the pleasure.
But he’d already pulled away. “How many lies have you told me?”
The warmth chased from her skin. “I’ve told you the truth about myself. I’m a charmer, just like I said, I’m—”
“Fuck.” Bit off. His eyes glittered at her. “Right now I don’t give a shit what you are or who you work for.” His hands caught her shoulders. “I should . . . but now, I just want you.” Then his mouth took hers, hard and deep, the way she’d wanted.
Sarah gasped into his mouth, her heart thundering. Her tongue met his and the need, that reckless want built in her. A fierce desire to match his.
They were both already naked. The sheet was a thin barrier, one that he yanked out of the way, then his hot flesh was on hers. Strong, muscled. She wanted to touch him, wanted to make certain he was alive and safe—
But he pushed her back, easing her down onto the mattress. His mouth tore from hers and he licked his way down her throat.
He’d almost died.
He bit her collarbone. A light nip. “That bastard was gunning for us both.” His tongue caressed her wound. His hands traced down her body. Lucas’s fingers cupped her breasts, made the nipples ache for his touch. His tongue.
“The last thing I saw . . .” Now his mouth was near her breast, and his breath feathered over the sensitive flesh. “Was you.”
Her hands caught his shoulders. Her nails dug into the skin. “You were leaving me.” The accusation slipped from her.
He pushed her legs apart. Settled his hips against her. “No damn chance.”
He took her breast into his mouth. Sucked and licked and the need heated her blood.
“You . . . ah, Lucas!” She was wet for him, already. And he was hard for her. The length of his cock pushed against her sex, not entering her, not yet. “You . . . scared me.” An admission that cost her, but the words were true. When he’d been slipping away, she’d been terrified. Not because her protector was gone. Not because she’d have to face Rafe alone. But because I was losing Lucas.
He pressed a hot kiss to the curve of her belly. “I heard you.” He glanced up at her, his dark hair tousled, lines of lust etched on his face. Lust and . . . fury? “I heard you calling me in hell.”
His fingers curled over her thighs. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you.”
Then he put his mouth on her sex. His tongue brushed over her folds, tasted her, then drove deep. Sarah’s body jolted as pleasure flooded through her. His thumb pressed on her clit, thrumming the nub, and she buried her fingers in his thick hair. “Lucas!”
He didn’t ease up. Just kept taking and stroking and—oh, damn his tongue—she came against his mouth.
He licked her while she came. Then he rose above her. His eyes watched her every move.
One thrust sent him balls-deep into her. The ripples from her climax still shivered through her and her sex squeezed him.
Then he withdrew. Drove deep. She wrapped her legs around him and let her nails sink into his skin.
Her hips arched toward him. Faster, faster. Harder. His gaze burned into hers. Strength and fury. Life. Not the cold whisper of death she’d felt in the dark hours of night.
Life.
Lucas.
The climax hit her, stealing her breath, and Sarah opened her mouth to scream. Lucas kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth just as he plunged into her body. He erupted inside of her, his body shuddering against hers. She held him as tight as she could with arms, hands, and legs, not wanting to let him go. Not wanting the pleasure to end.
The rasps of their breath filled the air. His heartbeat drummed against her, and the beat as fast and wild as her own. After a moment, his head lifted slowly, and he stared down at her with a gaze she couldn’
t read.
Sarah licked her lips and tasted him. “Lucas . . .”
“Are you FBI?”
Not the sweet, after-sex words she’d hoped to hear.
He withdrew from her body, a long, sensual glide of flesh that had aftershocks trembling through her.
“Are you FBI, Sarah?”
No way this was going to end well. Naked, sated, she stared up at Lucas and gave him the truth. “I was.”
Marie Dusean stared out of her window, watching the sun rise over the sky, its fingers already like blood on the day. Her body ached. Too many years. Too many lost lives. Too many souls that called to her.
She stared at the sun and knew what would come for her. But it was okay. Marie feared no man. She didn’t fear Death, either. Why fear what you controlled?
But she would regret. She would miss.
Belle fille. She’d miss the girl so.
Her guards were leaving. Drifting away with the daylight. What was the point in them staying? More bloodshed? No. Enough of hers had died already. She wouldn’t lose more souls.
She stared at the sun and waited.
“Fuck.” Lucas rolled out of the bed. He stalked forward and grabbed a pair of jeans. “You were playing me. You think I don’t know about the Feds and their damn extermination list?” He shook his head. “I’ve been on that list since I was sixteen.”
“You’re not on the list anymore.” She could give him that, at least.
He whirled on her.
Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say.
“You were sent to take down the wolves.” Not a question. His hands clenched into fists. The jeans hung low on his hips. His body tightened with fury. “That bastard was right, you were sent—”
“A year ago, we found the first body.” She wouldn’t talk about death and hell while she was naked. Sarah didn’t know where her clothes were or who’d taken them, so she rose from the bed slowly, trying to hide the quiver in her knees. Her body still ached from the sex, but she wouldn’t show that, either. She grabbed the sheet, wrapped it around her, toga-style, then faced him.
His brows had shot down low. “Body?”
“In Arizona. A man. The poor guy’s throat had been ripped out. At first, we thought it was just a random killing, but then the other body turned up. A month later, just when the full moon rose again.” Maybe the words came out too fast, but she needed to tell him everything. If he told her to walk, she would, but it was time she revealed all the secrets she’d been carrying. “The local papers started dubbing the killer as The Werewolf.”
“Shit.”
Right. “The Other world doesn’t need attention like that.” Her job had been to make sure no paranormals attracted that kind of heat. A low profile equaled humans and paranormals who continued to exist semi-peacefully together. A big supernatural coming out party—well, that equaled hell. Humans were too biased against their own kind. No way would they all take to monsters with open arms.
His shoulders rolled. “A shifter was killing?”
“Killing only humans. Every month, he left another body.” Those dead haunted her. “Our crime-scene guys measured the cuts, found trace evidence on the victims and we knew we were after a wolf shifter.” At first, the crime-scene guy had thought he’d found dog hair on one of the vics. That had been the evidence they needed. Not dog hair. Close, but . . . “We thought a Lone was hunting.”
Lones were the wolves who’d been forced out of the relative safety of the pack. The wolves who’d be most likely to have a psychotic breakdown. They were the ones with the sharpest blood hunger, the fiercest rage. Their beasts were too strong, they needed—
“I was Lone for six years.”
She knew that. “But now you’re alpha.” The only Lone who’d ever come back. That was one of the many reasons he’d been watched by the FBI.
“I’m alpha only because I clawed and bit my way through the bodies to claim the pack.”
And he had killed. She knew that. Pack justice. Pack was brutal. Wild. But for the wolves, it could be all that kept them sane.
She cleared her throat. Finish it. “There weren’t any Lones in the area near the kills. There was a pack, but . . . no Lones. So I was sent in.” Because she hadn’t believed they were truly looking for a Lone. The prey was always different—men, women, all races, all ages. But the location had been centered around Fallen, Arizona. Right around the home of Rafe’s pack.
He laughed. A rough, bitter sound. “Let me guess. When you went into the pack, no one knew you were a charmer. You went in, spied in their minds, and tried to find your killer.”
That had been what Rafe wanted him to believe. She came into my pack, seduced me, used me, because her mission was to take down my wolves.
Rafe was a very good liar.
“Rafe knew exactly who and what I was.” How else would she have gotten into the pack? “Rafe knew that I was a charmer, and he wanted to use my power. He came to me.” And she’d been so stupid. “He found me at the FBI. He knew about the killings and he said he wanted them stopped before his pack was forced to leave the area.”
The tension in the room was so thick it seemed to suffocate her. Sarah tried to suck in a deep breath of air.
Lucas just watched her. “I’m guessing Rafe wasn’t on the extermination list? Not if he just waltzed into the FBI office.”
She shook her head. “He’d—he’d never hurt anyone. Always kept a low profile. He’d pulled together his own pack, and he—”
Lucas lifted a hand, stopping her. “Right. Got it. The fucking upstanding citizen came to you because he wanted the killings stopped.”
He really had seemed upstanding, at first.
“How long was it,” Lucas asked. “Before you found out Rafe was behind the kills?”
Too long.
The wild, musky scent of the wolf teased Marie’s nose. She pulled her shawl closer. She was always cold, even in the summer. Death stood too close to her.
She didn’t look back over her shoulder. Just kept staring at the sun. Not so bloody anymore. Almost . . . beautiful. Parts of the world were rather nice to look at.
Others weren’t. She’d seen it all in her ninety-three years. War. Famine. Hope.
Horror.
Time to let it all go.
She began to chant softly, whispering so carefully. She’d learned the words at her mother’s knee. Had passed them down to her darling Carline, only to see her only daughter die at the hands of a vampire.
Vengeance had come.
Vengeance always came.
“Rafe had taken a new wolf into his pack. A guy, barely eighteen, named Sean Walker.” Wide smile, dark eyes—his image flashed before her. He’d seemed so nice, so normal, then he’d shifted into a wolf and she’d caught the darkness in his mind. Seen the flash of bodies and the pool of red. “He’d been making the kills.”
“The guy knew you were a charmer and he let you close enough to see his thoughts?” Doubt hung heavy in Lucas’s voice.
“Rafe—Rafe brought me in as his companion, he didn’t tell the others—”
His eyes glittered. “That was your cover?”
Being Rafe’s lover. A lie that had become truth. Her chin lifted. She wouldn’t apologize. She’d made a mistake—like Lucas’s hands were lily-white. “Sean didn’t know,” she said instead. “All of the pack changed around me at some point. Sean—when he shifted, I knew.”
“And what did you do?”
Her lashes lowered. “I reported to my boss at the FBI. Special Agent Anthony Miller is the leader of our task force. I told him, and then he told Rafe.” She’d followed the chain of command, thinking it meant something.
But Miller had already known how Rafe would deal with Sean . . .
“Pack justice.”
“Yes.” She hadn’t realized how brutal or how swift it would be. Two wolves, fighting to the death. But no news coverage. No nosey reporters to deal with. Just a quiet end for a murderer—at leas
t, that’s what Anthony had thought he’d get. “Rafe . . . Rafe killed Sean.”
The FBI had believed the murders were over then. Six dead. Peace for the victims, finally.
“Then you and Rafe got close.” She could easily hear the fury underscoring Lucas’s words.
Fury and . . . jealousy.
For a moment, her lashes lowered. Rafe had understood her. Seemed to, anyway. After years of being on the outside, not having anyone who understood other than her grandmother, he’d been a temptation for her.
Sarah forced herself to meet Lucas’s gaze. She’d kept a lot from him, afraid he wouldn’t help her fight Rafe. Trust has to start somewhere.
She was already in too deep with Lucas. She’d realized that when his blood covered her and his eyes wouldn’t open. The terror had almost choked her.
No going back now. “I never knew my father. He cut out of town long before I was born. And my mother wasn’t a charmer. Or, if she was, she never found an animal that connected with her. She didn’t like—”
Monsters.
Sarah cleared her throat. She wouldn’t say that because Lucas wasn’t a monster. “My mother wanted me to be normal.” Her shoulders lifted, then fell. “The problem was that I never felt normal.” The little house in suburbia hadn’t been her.
“When I was six,” she told him, her voice quiet, “I took a field trip to the zoo.” It had been her first visit to see the animals. So many animals. So many cages. “When the wolves started talking to me, I thought everyone could hear them.” But her friends had laughed at her. Her teacher just said she had a vivid imagination.
And the wolves had kept talking.
Sarah swallowed. “As soon as I got off the bus that afternoon, I told my mom. The wolves had made me feel so good—like they knew me. I told my mom,” she said again, “because I was sure she’d believe me.” The wolves liked me, mommy. I could hear them whispering in my head. They’d—
Her mom had paled as she yanked Sarah away from the bus and away from the other laughing kids.
Don’t ever talk about the wolves again, Sarah! Do you hear me? Don’t mention them, and Dear God, stay away from them.