Taming the Night (Creatures of the Night Book 1)

by Tisha Wilson

  “All right big boy. I won fair and square and it’s time for you ta pay up,” she said smoothly. Inside she was as tight as a spring, but on the outside, she presented a cool stance that seemed unperturbed by the big man’s anger at all.

  “Russ. She won fair. We all watched her,” one of the spectators piped up. She saw fear in the man’s eyes. He was afraid for her. How sweet. If he only knew. It was his friend he should fear for. She tilted her head as she watched Russ get angrier by the second.

  “Yeah Jean. You saw her. She’s a pool shark and she had no right comin’ in here prayin’ on us. We ain’t professionals. Just good ole boys playin’ a honest game. You hear that little girl. You shouldn’t be playin’ with big men.”

  He stepped right up to her as if she should cower in fright. She looked up at him and smiled. “What’s the matter big boy? You scared of a real woman? You prefer playin’ with little boys?” she cooed and nearly laughed as rage flamed to life in Russ’s eyes. He was going to hit her. She decided that she would be the last woman that he ever hit. He undoubtedly had hit more than one woman in the past because he had that gleam in his eye. He was going to enjoy trying to beat her into submission.

  A few of the men were trying to talk him out of it but she only smiled broader, waiting. He paused as he looked into her eyes. A moment of hesitation entered him and she knew why. Her eyes were probably changing, preparing for battle as she was. He blinked a few times with his fist pulled back.

  “And what exactly is going on here?”

  She and Russ both looked towards the door at the same time, and for some reason she could not explain, her heart did a little flip. Her smile turned genuine as she saw the broad frame that filled the doorway. Officer Cayman stepped inside and let the door close behind him. Even with the cast encircling his left forearm and his bruised face, he looked formidable. He looked the way she felt. He was poised, coiled, like a six foot four panther ready to strike. Russ lowered his arm and stepped away from her, all the fight suddenly gone out of him.

  She wanted to spit in his face. He would hit a woman but not a man, at least not one as muscled as Officer Cayman. The muscle rippled, even beneath the starched button down shirt he wore. A white t-shirt peeked from beneath the few buttons he’d left undone. Even in civilian clothes, he oozed a certain amount of authority that said not to cross him. His cast swung off the end of his jackhammer of an arm. Even beneath the cast anyone could tell that the forearm was probably just as corded with lean muscle as the other was. She wondered what a cop like him was doing in a little town like this.

  He was probably the star of the show up here in these hills. He had been the star quarterback in the local high school. He had probably taken some type of knee injury that ruined his career in the NFL, and he was hiding out up here in the hills as a cop. That or some sob story similar to it. Either way he had probably returned to the little town that had produced him to hold court over the rest of the residents here. She shook her head. It was too bad he was so starched or she would have enjoyed toying with him a bit.

  It was time to go, however, before she got herself in any more trouble than she was already in. When Bateman had caught wind of what had happened to the patrol car he’d been livid. She told him that she’d waited to torch as many of the creatures as she could. He’d said that she should have blasted them the moment they’d even neared the field. She had planned to be far away from this little town before Officer Cayman even woke up, but it had taken her more than a week to get a good game going so she could get some gas money.

  Turning away from Russ she went to collect her jacket. Suddenly he was there behind her and his clean fresh scent invaded her nostrils. He smelled so good. Like mountain air and Axe body spray. She had the sudden and overwhelming urge to lick every inch of him, to literally taste him. She could nearly hear his heart beating, pumping blood through his entire body, and she closed her eyes as her mouth began to water.

  Get a grip girl. She shook her head to try and clear him from her senses but he was standing so close his body heat reached out to touch her like a lover’s caress. She turned to face him and saw the question written all over his face. He was too close. She smiled at him again before she retreated a few steps.

  “I’ll be on my way as soon as I collect the rest of my money officer,” she said easily.

  He tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “How did you know I’m a police officer?” he asked.

  She laughed and leaned back against the pool table as she slid into her leather jacket. “You just give off that vibe shug. You blow out cop air as they say.”

  *

  He watched her as she leaned back against the table. Her legs were so damn long and her shorts were so damn short. Her little red top barely contained the bounty that lay beneath the C cups and he felt his entire body stiffen and go rigid to watch her. She was sex in heels. If it was at all possible, she was more beautiful than he remembered. He had nearly convinced himself that the whole thing had been a nightmare.

  The cast, the scratches, the burns to his face and arms, it had all been from being thrown from the car. That’s what he told himself. He’d even gone back to the office on light duty. He waited for the report that they’d found the vehicle that had smashed him off the dirt road. He waited for something, anything, to happen to explain to him what had gone on out there in those woods. Surely the woman and the creatures were a dream.

  He was on his way out to the supermarket to get coffee and supplies for the office when he’d seen the bike. He’d slammed on the brakes of his pickup so hard that he’d left tire marks in the street. He’d sat there in the middle of the road and looked at the bike in disbelief. It was the machine from his dream, complete with purple flames on the tank and pure silver handlebars. He had pulled into the parking lot, telling himself that there were plenty of bikes that looked like that in the world. Just because he hadn’t ever seen one in Taming before didn’t matter.

  Maybe one of the guys in the bar had sprung for a new paint job or something, although he hadn’t heard of anyone winning the lottery and ordering a brand new custom made Harley in the past six months. It took at least that long for a bike like the one in the parking lot to be custom fitted for the rider. Maybe there was a new guy in town. He’d convinced himself of that too. Right up until the moment that he’d stepped in and witnessed her lovely thighs bent over the pool table. He’d nearly swallowed his tongue.

  He had watched the altercation unfold before his eyes, but his tongue had been frozen in his mouth. His brain refused to believe that the images that he’d dreamed were actually real. It came back to him in clips and pieces that woke him and left him bathed in sweat. Now he watched her leaning against the table, the siren from his dreams, and she acted as if this were the first time she’d ever met him. Was he going crazy? How could he have dreamed of her before he’d ever even met her? He didn’t believe in fate or the sight. He’d never gone to a palm reader or had his fortune told. He believed that the things those people foretold only came true because the people who believed in them made the events happen to prove it was true.

  Maybe he’d seen her for a brief moment in passing somewhere around town. He shook his head. If he’d seen her, even in passing, he would have remembered it for the rest of his life. He’d never seen her before outside of that dream.

  He turned his attention to Russ with a force of will. “You wouldn’t be in here gamblin’ again now would you Russ?” Russ shook his head vehemently.

  “We was just havin’ ourselves a honest game between friends,” he said quickly.

  “Really? You didn’t look all that friendly a second ago and you was callin’ her a shark,” Jerry argued back. Russell had the good sense to look a little embarrassed.

  “Actually. I didn’t come here to shark. I sold him a bike part from my custom shop a few miles to the West. I came up here to collect payment myself because I love the ride through the Smokies. He didn’t have quite enough to
cover so I played him for it. He lost. I want the rest of my money.”

  She said it so smoothly that it was hard to tell if it was a lie or the truth. She owned a motorcycle shop? “You’re a little on the small side to work on bikes aren’t you,” he commented.

  “You’d be surprised at the things a small ole gal like me can do cher,” she said. Her Creole accent spilled from her tongue like a sorceress’s mist putting his brain in a daze. She ran a hot look up and down his body.

  He felt his blood heat up and knew that he was probably blushing just a bit. He cleared his throat and turned to Russell again. “Is that the way of it?”

  Russell’s face was mottled by rage but he just nodded. He couldn’t afford to go back to jail for gambling. Jerry put his good hand out, palm up. Russell reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Jerry knew the man did a little something on the side because he didn’t have a real job. Just as he also knew that he would one day catch him slipping up and put his sorry ass back in jail.

  “You know Russ. A big man like you would do better at honest work like collecting garbage or construction. Sure beats pushing around women more than half your size and getting arrested for gambling and the like. One of these days you are going to take on more than you can handle and I’m going to find you in a ditch somewhere.”

  Russ mumbled something derogatory under his breath as he counted out a few hundred dollars and dropped them in the officer’s hand. He turned and stalked out of the bar angrily. A few people chuckled when he was gone. They didn’t dare laugh in his face.

  Jerry turned back to the mystery woman. On purpose he folded the wad of cash and put it in his pocket. He then stepped up to the bar and sat on a stool. The bartender moved over to him with a question on his face. “It’s all right Dale. I just want a cup of coffee.”

  “Did that happen in the accident?” the bartender asked as he placed a cup in front of him and filled it with steaming coffee. He was referring to the bruising and scratches on Jerry’s face.

  “I didn’t cut myself shaving,” he replied with a good natured smile. Dell seemed to relax visibly with this. Jerry knew that he could be standoffish sometimes and a few people in town were afraid of him. It didn’t used to be that way, at least not before…

  “You gonna give me my money?”

  He looked over his shoulder to see the vixen. She had crossed her arms in front of her and had lost a bit of her easy going attitude.

  “I’m going to give you your money,” he said as he turned back to his coffee and blew on it. He heard her sigh in resignation as she took the stool beside his.

  “It’s getting late you know.”

  He looked towards the front window. The sun was just barely setting. “Are you an old woman? You can’t stay up past eight or something?” he teased.

  “There are easier ways to get a woman to have a drink with you than holding her money hostage sugar,” she snapped back as she signaled the bartender. She ordered a Jack Daniels which caused him to look at her.

  “You drink Jack?” he asked looking her over. She could define the word gorgeous with her perfectly tan skin and beautifully shining black hair.

  “Am I supposed to be drinking something with an umbrella in it Officer? Is it against the law for a woman to own a motorcycle shop and drink hard liquor?”

  “Okay. Don’t loose your cool. I was just commenting. I don’t even do Jack. I’m a Crown man myself. It’s smoother.”

  She relaxed some with that comment. He couldn’t tell if it was an act, but again the transition was so flawless that he was left feeling a little unsure about her. “Well I don’t like smooth. I like hard.”

  This made him look back to his steaming mug. Was she flirting with him? “I just want to talk to you is all,” he finally replied, his mouth a little dry.

  She glanced at the setting sun nervously. “I would love to but it’s really time for me to go.”

  “Who is Thomas Sierra?” he asked suddenly. This caused all the color to drain from her pretty face as she looked at him.

  “What?”

  “The tattoo on your back. There’s a little poem and a name at the edge of the angel wings.”

  “Thomas was my husband,” she said quickly as she downed the drink in one pull. “He’s dead. Can I have my money now?”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah. Me too. Tell you what,” she said as she stood up. “You pay for the drinks with that money. I’ve gotta go.”

  Before he could stop her she was striding towards the door. He was out of the stool in seconds and grasping her arm. He immediately released her when she turned her eyes on him. Eyes that had been a clear whiskey colored brown just a few moments ago were now a clear violet color just like…

  “You,” he said with as much accusation as he could muster.

  *

  She looked around swiftly to see who was watching. Everyone was watching. They had been watching since she’d walked in the door. He was going to out her in front of these people. If it had been a drunk she could have called him crazy, but this was their star, their king, the royalty of this little town. She knew it by the way they looked at him, as if what he said was golden. He left her no choice.

  She wrapped her hands in his shirt front, pulled him to her, tipped up and kissed him hard on the mouth. He resisted her first but soon his arms were wrapped around her, pulling her closer. Suddenly the room fell away. The people fell away. There was nothing but his soft lips and his tasty scent wrapping itself around her. She deepened the kiss and he took her tongue into his mouth as he thrust his own tongue into hers. Her breathing became labored as she pressed herself up into his muscular chest. All she could think of was getting him back to her hotel room.

  In fact she couldn’t think of a better thing in the world. She was already in knee deep with Bateman. She couldn’t get any deeper. She was about to pull away to suggest it when a tingling sensation stole over the nape of her neck and up over her head. She felt her nails lengthen and her pupils dilate. She pulled away and spun to look outside.

  “What the hell,” she whispered as she breathed hard.

  There, at the edge of the woods. There shouldn’t have been another creature around for miles, at least not for months. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest when she saw what was about to happen. Russell, fool that he was, was striding towards the woods, toward the creature, with a shotgun up on his shoulder aimed at the creature. Damn it. She had drawn it here and now an innocent was going to die. She should have been long gone, especially this close to sundown. She knew better than to be around humans at sun down.

  She turned to see Officer Cayman standing there dazed, touching his lips. She rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. “That’s all the action you’re going to get out of me lover,” she snapped at him as she pulled the door open and left in a mock furry.

  She knew that shooting him down would leave him confused. It would cause the men in the room to give him some good natured prodding as they tried to bring him back in the fold so he could lick his wounds. She prayed that the door would stay closed behind her and that he wouldn’t follow her. She was hoping for too much. She should have known better. God had abandoned her long ago. Why would he do her any favors now?

  *

  Jerry looked after her for a moment, barely able to believe what had just happened. Most of the thoughts fled from his head at the memory of the touch of her lips against his own. He tried to bring himself out of the stupor but the press of her taught little body against his... She had allowed herself to be flush against him and she smelled of vanilla and lavender, and night air, and delicious things, and she tasted of danger as well. It wasn’t until the patron’s of the bar started to rib him and offer to buy him a drink that he came out of it.

  He went after her.

  “She said you aint gettin’ nothin’ else tonight Tiger,” someone teased behind him and the others laughed. He didn’t pay any attention to them. He was beginn
ing to come back to himself now. He grabbed at the buried memories as they surfaced. What was it that had made him go after her in the first place? What had he been about to say when he saw the strange color of her eyes?

  Wolves, forest, and… her eyes. Suddenly it snapped into focus and all he saw was her ahead of him striding towards her motorcycle. He picked up his own pace until he was nearly on top of her.

  “What the hell was that bullshit kiss all about! Who the hell are you?” he yelled at her back.

  Without warning she turned and he was laid flat out before he knew what was happening to him. With one punch she had cleaned his clock. Put him straight on his back. He had to wonder if the birds he saw over head were real or a result of the punch she had laid on him. People came running out to the bar and some knelt by him while others stood back laughing their asses off.

  He heard her bike roar to life and speed off before he was able to sit up. Unsteadily he got to his feet and began to run for his truck. Someone stopped him and his head spun nearly off of his shoulders.

  “She said she don’t want no more company Jer. Maybe it be best that you just-”

  “Dell. I think she has something to do with the accident that left me with this broken arm,” he said to the bartender who had come out with a well used baseball bat.

  “Then why the hell were you kissing her?” the bartender asked looking confused.

  “I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me,” Jerry replied.

  “That’s not the way I saw it. She may have started it but you sure finished it. I mean not that I blame you but-”

  “I don’t give a shit what it looked like to you Dell,” Jerry said as he pushed his friend out of the way to make his way to the truck. He realized then that he’d left his cell phone at the office. He turned back. “Call the station and tell them that I am going to be in pursuit of the suspect in my personal vehicle and get the rest of these people back inside. She’s to be believed armed and dangerous.”