by Vanessa Jaye
“Look, I’m not discounting the intel we got from the crew, but you know as well as I do, half of it was sensationalist macho bullshit. Just one guy trying to scare the crabs off the other guy’s pubes.”
“Gee, thanks for that.” Where Mitch came up with his descriptions were a mystery to Nate. And he wanted to keep it that way.
“All I’m saying is, bull or no bull, there were enough damning details included to make me a believer.”
“And all I’m saying is, you been off your game lately. I know it gets rough around this time of year for you—”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Nate warned in a snarled whisper.
The anniversary of that night in those woods was coming up hard and fast. But regardless of what little Mitch knew, or thought he knew about Beth’s death, the topic was closed for discussion.
“It has everything to do with this,” Mitch stated. “I’m not the enemy here, Nate. So let’s save the righteous indignation for the right mother-effing target. We cool on that?”
Nate inhaled and worked to unclench his jaw. “Yeah, we’re cool.”
“Well all right then. At least one thing’s for sure, we know that mother-effer’s still on board.”
“And that’s about all we got.”
The monster jumping ship had been a huge concern, but fresh evidence of its tell-tale odor lingered in odd pockets on board. Those pockets were proving few and far between on the twelve-storey four-thousand-passenger vessel, however.
The constantly blowing sea breeze and frequent ports of call stops didn’t help either. Nor the fact the creature’s unique scent was strongest when it was in shifter form and almost indiscernible when human.
Another bloody Elder super power. So far the stench had dissipated in the salt air before Nate could follow the trail back to its origin, but the creature’s luck would run out soon.
Then that night, those grizzly minutes of watching the monster feed on his mate, would be laid to rest forever and Nate could gain some measure of peace.
Maybe even go back home. The faces of Sebastian and Giselle swam into murky focus, tweaking something in his chest that he ruthlessly suppressed. His stepbrother and stepmother were part of the past, a different world, a different life from the one he’d entered with the creature’s taunt: I know you now, wolf.
Nate’s bones began to grind and he clamped down on his emotions. He’d give it five more minutes on this deck before scouting out other parts of the ship.
With that, he resumed scanning the crowd, primed for any suspicious signs—a walk too fluid or features that hinted at something more than human. By the time he checked out the blonde on the opposite side of the pool for the third time, he started paying attention and asking himself why.
Compared to some of the other females, her black two-piece was downright modest, yet his gaze kept returning to her slim golden figure. A little too slim if you asked him, almost fragile. And there was an awkwardness in her body language, a certain self-consciousness—like a gazelle coming out in the clearing. Weak. He could practically scent it from here.
Mitch moved restlessly in his seat, emitting a sound halfway between a groan and a whine and Nate tore his gaze from the woman.
“Can’t you whip up something for sea-sickness?”
“How many times do I have to tell you I ain’t seasick? We cats just don’t dig the water. Look at those waves, up and down and up and down—” Mitch clamped his lips together, his whole face tight as he went from greenish to blanched.
Funny, it sure as hell seemed like sea-sickness to Nate.
“But I guess sometimes a man just has to suffer for his art.” Mitch gamely raised his glass to a busty brunette farther down the bar.
“Art?”
“The way I perform? Take a picture and hang it in the Guggenheim, baby. Entertain and enlighten the masses.” Mitch began to coon in a raspy unsteady voice, about nobody doing it better and feeling sad for the rest.
“Hey, feel sad for my ears.”
“Hey, suck my dick.”
Nate just managed to hold back his laughter. He glanced around one last time, ready suggest they be on their way, when his attention landed on the blonde again. His smile thinned.
Some no-neck nimrod was sitting way too close to her, breathing in her face. Nate told himself it was none of his business. The guy was probably her boyfriend. But if it were possible her body language was even more rigid and defensive.
As he watched, she shook her head periodically at whatever No-Neck was whispering in her ear.
Nate didn’t question his rising anger, just signaled the server and ordered another bottled-water. When it came, he took it and stood.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
As Mitch slid off his stool and headed for the brunette, Nate turned, then wove his way through the maze of loungers to the other side of the pool.
Suntan lotion, sweat, ocean air, chlorine… As he sorted out the different odors, one eluded him, flitting away before he could analyze it.
He was tempted to stand still, see if he could catch the fragrance again, but the male had just touched the woman’s thigh and Nate so badly wanted to break every bone in that hand.
“Hello.” Just before he arrived at the female’s side, he sent out the greeting on impulse. Now why the hell did he do that?
It had the right affect though—she looked up at him expectantly.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. A queer sensation coiled inside him.
“Sorry I took so long.” He handed her the water. It was the same brand as the almost empty bottle on the table beside her. “I’m here to help.”
After a slight hesitation she took it from him. “Thanks.”
Her voice was a soft caress to his senses, soothing, cool to brittle fires plaguing him. He would have curled up at her feet just to hear her speak some more.
That flash of need caught him up short. This was getting too weird. Nate almost backed away when he locked eyes with the guy hitting on her. Instead he took a step closer, claiming the alpha position over the seated male.
“So who’s your friend?” he asked casually.
“Uhm…Rod.”
He watched Rod size him up and come up three sizes too small.
“Who the hell are you?” Roid-tard flexed a few oversized muscles.
Nate let the bones in his face shift slightly and flashed a smile, knowing his incisors looked unnaturally prominent. I’m the thing you don’t believe in asshole.
Dude’s eyes widened and his aggression suffered a bout of erectile dysfunction.
Unfortunately Nate couldn’t fully enjoy the beginnings of the male’s submission, because the woman was giving off major waves of anxiety. For her sake he erased the small signs of transformation, but still held the guy’s gaze.
That’s what you did with prey.
Rod shot up out of the lounger. “Listen man, I was just having a friendly conversation with Tessa.”
Nate exhaled in a low growl and Rod held up his hands.
“It’s cool. I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Do that.” Nate bared his teeth once more.
He didn’t relax until Rod was gone from sight and he could barely smell the drops of urine that had trickled down between the human’s legs. But his smile faded with the awareness of Tessa’s growing agitation.
He turned to her, “I mean you no harm”, and watched as she searched his face. He saw the exact moment she decided to trust him; her hazel eyes lightened a shade.
“Thank you…?”
“Nate.”
“Thank you, Nate.” She held out her hand, her mouth curving into a smile.
He felt a surprising twist in his chest at the sight of that smile and paused before taking her slender hand in his.
His heart still pumped hard from the confrontation with Rod, but that didn’t explain the premonition that snaked through him. Nate drew in a deep breath—that sce
nt again, stronger now, lilacs and something peppery. Where was it coming from?
He stared down at Tessa. It can’t be.
With a deep sense of foreboding he slowly took her hand in his.
And knowledge slammed into him. One word.
She gasped, her eyes widening.
Had he spoken out loud?
One word.
Nate dropped Tessa’s hand.
“You’ll be fine now,” he said with a calm he was far from feeling. He could hear the rush of blood through her veins as that gorgeous scent wrapped itself around his cock and tugged.
Nate spun on his heels and stalked away, putting distance between him and the female.
He searched for the memories, needing to embrace the fading ache and familiar anger. He reached past that one word:
Mate.
Chapter Four
Tessa leaned against the railing and stared into the liquid dark below, fixated on the moonlit ripples the ship left in its wake. It was easier to think about what lay beneath the water’s surface than face her own demons.
On the one hand, this trip was a dream come true. The furthest she’d ever traveled from Toronto on vacation before was Niagara Falls—not even out of the province, never mind Canada.
On the other hand, going solo on this cruise might have been the dumbest thing she’d ever done. In the face of everyone’s skepticism it had seemed pretty damn empowering at the time. Now she almost wished she’d waited until someone else could’ve come along—
“Stop it!” she admonished herself.
So she was feeling a little lonely. That didn’t mean that all the naysayers who’d questioned her decision were right. Still, Eric’s open ridicule, the doubtful reactions of her coworkers at the cable corp’s head office, and even Anya’s vocal worry came to mind now.
Then there were her parents.
She laughed mirthlessly under her breath. They’d responded to her announcement just as expected. In retrospect, it was foolish to think that an impending two-week absence would achieve what twenty-eight years hadn’t.
Tessa had always been the quiet sister. The one who elicited surprise that she was Tricia’s twin. Oh, you’re fraternal. That explains it. Explained what?—she wanted to ask.
Her throat went tight. They’d loved each other fiercely, but she knew Tricia had felt guilty every time quiet Tessa had been overlooked or slighted.
And God knows she carried her own guilt over privately resenting her more popular twin.
Then Tessa had gotten her wish in the most horrible way possible: In an instant of skidding tires and twisted metal, she wasn’t the shadow twin anymore. She was just the shadow.
But even shadows need light.
The family had existed in a state of suspended animation since the accident. But for Tessa, who’d been in a sort of limbo all her life, the day had come when she just couldn’t do it anymore. A year ago she’d bought a small semi-detached house in a neighborhood she’d always loved, then gritted her teeth as everyone went on and on about how Tricia would have loved it, and was Tessa sure it was right for her?
This vacation brought up the same comparisons, “Tricia always wanted to go on a cruise.”
No she hadn’t! Tessa wanted to yell. That was me! I wanted to go on the cruise.
Now here she was, experiencing her dream. So why am I so restless?
A gentle breeze kicked up strands of her hair and tickled down her spine and Tessa tilted her head back to gaze up at the glittering night sky.
The moon hung low on the horizon, bloated with wonder and almost blinding in its luminosity, and the stars seemed so close she was tempted to reach up and try to pluck one down. They never seemed this bright or numerous in the city. Their almost unnatural beauty made her want to wish for things that could never be.
The phrase unnatural beauty stuck in her brain. She shivered even though the night was warm, because there was no other phrase to describe her would-be rescuer at the pool this morning.
His face was too masculine to be beautiful, yet too perfect to be anything other than breathtaking. There was a hint of something darkly primitive, almost animalistic, in the high cheekbones and broad straight nose, and only the fullness of his lower lip softened the suggestion of cruelty held by his mouth. The slightly unkempt, sun-streaked brown hair, long enough to curl over his collar and brush along his chiseled jaw, added to the untamed aura that not only seemed to surround, but emanate from him.
And then there were his eyes. The irises were a rich golden brown, like aged brandy shot through with sunlight. Staring into those thick-lashed eyes had caused languorous heat to blossom through her body, while at the same time making her hyper-aware—
“It’s him,” she breathed out softly. Nate was the reason for this additional unease that plagued her. Then she recalled another detail—his right iris had a wide smudgy ring of pale, pale blue around the pupil. Like one of those wolf-type dogs…
Wolf eyes.
She pressed a palm against her stomach, every nerve-ending vibrating with new insight.
Tessa clenched the railing tightly with her other hand, her heart thudding heavy in her chest. The same way it had when she’d sworn she could actually feel his deep rough-edged voice reverberating in her head, causing random stitches of sensation to pull at her insides.
She bit her lip and tried to calm down, remembering what he’d said: “I mean you no harm”. But recalling his reassurances had the opposite effect. He’d spoken to her directly this morning. She’d heard him, and yet… Tessa dragged a slow hand through her hair. And yet she’d been looking right at Nate when she heard his voice…
She hadn’t seen his lips move.
Of course, it could have been the sun in her eyes. That would also explain the other thing. That his face, the actual bones underneath the skin had shifted. Her heart constricted painfully with the next beat and she worked at swallowing the spiny bones of fear stuck in her throat.
Then she laughed a little, shook her head and took a deep breath. You, Tessa Archer, have been watching way too many X-files reruns. Out here in the middle of the night, with the ocean and sky stretched out to black eternity, it was easy to let her imagination get the best of her.
She walked farther down the deck, trailing her hand along the smooth steel of the top rail. Still, she hadn’t imagined the prickly awareness that had swept her body then curled into a ball of anticipation when he’d taken her hand in his.
And Tessa knew he’d felt it too. His bi-colored gaze had widened as his grip tightened around her much smaller hand. But judging by his quick departure, he’d enjoyed the sensations even less than she did. Tessa stifled her foolish sense of disappointment.
Nate was dangerous. Every instinct in her knew it.
The creature crept swiftly down the stairs, ignoring the signs posted on the last set of doors. This night that cradled a full moon to its black breast incited the creature’s hunger. Lured by the hot elixir that flooded the human’s veins, the shape-shifter followed the cheerful whistle then slid into a dark alcove to observe. Its sharp gaze followed the man as he walked past the great belly of the engine room and entered a door marked, Staff Locker Room. The creature kept watch and listened. The man was alone. Well, not completely alone…
It entered the room.
The human’s look of surprise quickly changed to something else all together. His sweet piercing screams died in his throat, drowned in a gurgling red tide from which the beast drank deeply.
Nate prowled the deck, hemmed in. He wanted to bound across the boards, leap through the air, call down the moon. Instead he was held prisoner by human eyes and the boundaries of this floating village. Irritation rumbled in his chest as the fragrance of the humans drifted to him on the night breeze and his nostrils flared…tantalized.
First came the artificial scents of soaps, perfumes, detergents, then the base notes rose from beneath the thin shields the norms masked themselves with—richer odors that spoke of d
arker enticements, of flesh, sweat, blood—
Nate clamped his hands to his head and tried to block the thoughts that burrowed into his brain. He would not let the creature’s taint overcome him.
The Elders had given him a warning before sending him out with his possible executioner—Mitch.
“To win you must not only defeat the Pithcus, for it is but a walking corruption of our world, you must also beware the evil rooted inside you.”
To supplement Nate’s atrophied strength, Alejandro had mixed his own blood with a variety of plants that only grew in the sacred depths of the jungle. It was a mixture that would either give Nate the ability to take on the Pithcus. Or kill him.
Without hesitation, Nate had drunk the potion and barely survived the wrenching pain that twisted every sinew and bone in his body or the foul retching that erupted from his guts, clenching his heart to a stop for long minutes.
As the weeks progressed, his health and powers slowly returned and another more dangerous plan formed in his head. With his recovery and training complete, he and Mitch had commenced their hunt, not knowing if they’d ever catch up to the Pithcus.
Then the first sign of the creature almost eight months later had provided Nate with the opportunity he needed to put his plan in action. When Mitch’s attention had been elsewhere, he’d tasted from the wounds of that first victim; lapped up the corruption and felt it slide deep into his soul. And his strength had increased, as it had with each subsequent victim he’d repeated his actions with.
Whatever powers Alejandro had bestowed on Mitch, Nate doubted they were enough to kill the Pithcus. He wasn’t even sure they were enough to defeat him in a fight now. Not that he was planning on fighting the big cat. He’d kneel to Mitch’s judgment if it became necessary.
Until then Nate was much better prepared to deal with the Pithcus, and the next time they met, he’d send it into the waiting arms of the devil.
Anticipation roiled through his blood and he moved farther down the deck, away from the humans who were out enjoying the evening, safe in their ignorance.