“Cara!” Rafe’s shout was weighted with anger and concern as he and another Were closed in.
She couldn’t blame him for being angry but was glad nothing of that demon remained for the Landau pack to feast their eyes upon. This one time, she had gotten away with leaving most of the Landau Weres behind as she performed her mission. She had tried to save them from the onslaught of problems caused by her nature. Nevertheless, she hadn’t killed that demon, and whoever had done the honors remained at large, a mystery.
“We heard shots. Were you hit? Are you okay?” Rafe demanded, eyeing the Lycan holding her.
His blatant concern brought Cara a degree of warmth that she couldn’t have explained even if she’d had vocal cords. Through Were channels, she sent him a thought. “I’m all right.”
She began her reverse shift, shaking off the wolf, making the Lycan holding her tilt back and forth in order to keep her in his arms. Once she’d discarded the wolf semblance, she sank against the unknown Lycan’s massive chest, slightly out of breath.
“Jonas,” Rafe said to the Lycan holding her, “hand her over. And thanks.”
The big werewolf did as Rafe requested, then took off again, possibly to search for the party responsible for the gunfire that had downed the demon with a single, specialized, well-targeted bullet.
“I’ll help him search,” Rafe’s packmate said. “If it’s a werewolf hunter, the idiot is a piss-poor shot.”
Rafe waited until both Weres had gone before looking directly at her. “If you keep this up, your invitation might be revoked. It’s too dangerous letting you do whatever the hell you please. You do get that? Hell, Cara, I’ll take you back myself.”
Cara said breathlessly, “You have no idea what’s out there clinging to the shadows.”
“More memories?”
“Not his time.”
“You’re injured, and on my watch,” he said in a tone that again said he had truly been worried about her, not for the sake of the trouble he might be in with both of their families, but because he honestly cared about what happened to her.
Another flush of heat crept into her face as Cara acknowledged his words.
“The hand will heal,” she said, adding to herself, and that demon won’t come calling again.
Rafe didn’t look at her hand. His focus remained on her face. Cara felt the intensity of desire he was withholding. Rafe wanted to let his attention slip to her naked body. His pulse moved beneath the skin under his left ear.
Now that she was in his arms, her injured hand seemed like nothing compared to the ache she felt in other places. Deep inside her, a distant thrumming vibration was producing longings she was now beginning to comprehend. In spite of what had just transpired, and with the acknowledgment of demon presence in Miami, she wanted Rafe to look at her. She wanted to remain in his arms for a while longer.
As strong and independent as she had always been, Cara was caving on the idea of remaining close to Rafe Landau. There was no look of horror on his face about her latest shift. None of the feeling she had for Rafe had struck her while she lay in the other Lycan’s arms. Only Rafe made her feel this way. She sensed a strong, rapidly forming bond. Their bodies were in sync on this, although their wishes went unspoken.
“We have to get you home,” he finally said. “Some damn fool has a gun. Is that what you were after?”
Cara shook her head. “He found me.”
“How did you break your bones?”
Cara supposed Rafe might understand about the demon if she answered him truthfully, but she didn’t yet dare to do so.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, continuing to stand there, holding her, as if he didn’t want the moment to end despite the possibility of more gunshots.
“Does it hurt badly?” he asked, shifting his focus to her hand.
“I’ve had worse.”
Cara studied Rafe’s handsome face, expecting to find clues as to what he might be expecting from her at this point. She had to accept the fact that she truly was inept at deciphering some of the expressions that crossed his face.
“My mother will help with your hand, though she’s not as gentle as my grandmother was when it comes to healing injured limbs,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to loan you another shirt.”
Cara wasn’t sure how to respond, so she didn’t try. She was thankful that the demon hadn’t found any of Rafe’s friends tonight.
Finally, he moved.
“I can walk, Rafe. There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”
“Yes. I suppose you can. But you’re naked. In my arms you’re not so exposed.”
He was lying about his motives. Rafe wanted to hold her.
“Being without clothes will bother the others?” she asked.
“Probably not half as much as it bothers me,” he returned.
The thrumming inside her was growing stronger. Cara slid her gaze downward, past Rafe’s lips, his chin, to the broad muscular chest covered by a T-shirt that stretched tight. She fought the urge to tear that T-shirt to pieces with her teeth and get at what lay beneath. She would have liked Rafe better with no barriers between them and his bronze skin exposed.
Maybe she had been too long in animal form tonight and these urges belonged to the wolf—to the more primal parts of herself that had never been explored. As if she had just awakened to the world of a mature female’s physical needs, Cara smiled at Rafe...and then found herself pressed to the bark of a tree with his hard body tight up against hers.
“Damn it.” His curse was a whisper of molten air on her forehead. “They won’t like this. Won’t appreciate it.”
He swore again, then added, “But what the hell?”
Chapter 14
Rafe was ravenous, and he let his instincts take over as he leaned against Cara in a way that indicated how the idea of friendship had evolved into a new kind of madness.
It didn’t take a specialist to tell him that the state he found himself in had to mean he and Cara had imprinted. He was acting contrary to every rule he had in place to govern his behavior in the world so far. Somehow, and after such a short acquaintance, their souls were making these decisions for them.
Cara was a seamless, flawless turn-on, and having her naked or half-naked most of the time didn’t help his willpower. Unlike his human partners, she had torn through his defenses as if none of them existed.
Her lips were there for him to taste. Her breath was sweet when he did. Musky wolf scent perfumed the dark tangles of hair that Rafe ran his fingers through. He had a very real need to explore every inch of this magnificent she-wolf hybrid whom everyone else secretly feared.
With her thighs against his and her high, firm breasts against his chest, self-control was quickly becoming nonexistent.
Cara appeared to be as stunned as he was by this latest act, though she didn’t resist. He tasted the blistering-hot tang of passion coating the inside her mouth. She had closed her eyes.
He kissed her as if there wouldn’t be another opportunity, as if they were the only two Weres in the world...devouring, taking, possessing Cara’s mouth the way he wanted to possess her body, and as though he too had become possessed.
He wasn’t gentle. Didn’t take his time. Her tongue was malleable and an instant addiction. For now, Cara’s mouth was everything. It was the connecting link between two souls that hadn’t expected such a pairing.
Although tearing his clothes off was not an option, Rafe felt feverish and confined. He maintained the hope that he could handle this and that things actually wouldn’t get out of hand. Danger remained each moment they stayed in the park. They would be expected back behind the walls. But as Cara’s palm slipped up his back, the caress burned through his shirt with the heat of a falling star. When she tugged at the hem of his shirt in order to reach his skin, his body rippled with anticipation.
He broke the connection with her lips just far enough to speak. “You’re new to this, and I’m taking advantage.”
In response, Cara raked her nails across his lower back. The sting told Rafe that though Cara might not be as experienced as he was in dealing with sexual desires, she was also part animal when it came right down to it, and all animals instinctively knew what to do in a situation like this.
Her touch turned him on. Spurred him on. The pain was real, which meant that Cara also was real. She was neither wholly pleasure nor wholly pain, but both things rolled into one. To love her, to make love to her, would be at her partner’s peril, but that was just the kind of challenge a werewolf lived for.
He kissed Cara again with a vengeance, and she met him halfway as her fingers moved over him as if seeking a deeper connection. How could he tell her that she had already gotten under his skin?
The brash devouring that seemed to go on forever left him unsatisfied. Rafe vowed not to take this seduction farther tonight and to give Cara a chance to learn and adapt to the ways of the pack—and in particular a male Were’s physical urgings. Yet even that promise was fading.
Animals.
Yes, we are animals inside, Cara.
You and me.
His hand moved without conscious direction, running over the length of Cara’s smooth right thigh. She gasped and growled again, and the sound made Rafe want her all the more. The possibility of imprinting with Cara made adhering to former promises seem impossible.
He slid his hand down her leg, cursing the action, knowing what he would find and also that reaching that place would lead him to a state of mindless, blissful oblivion.
He was almost there when the word don’t lit up in his mind with the brilliance of a neon sign, followed closely by can’t. Because, hell...he might be an animal in human guise, but he was also an animal who cared about the female in his arms and about what would happen to her if the imprinting sequence had truly begun. Mating with Cara would seal the deal for good. No out. No exit. After imprinting, no other partner would do for either of them. Ever.
Did they truly want that when they knew so little about each other, and when so much was already at stake with Cara’s visit here?
Do you realize what’s happening, Cara? Are you seeing the larger picture?
He had to stop now, before it was too late. Before more of Cara’s delicious heat corroded his sense of what was right.
Damn, that was hard.
Nearly impossible.
When he pulled back, she opened her eyes. He had no words to offer her that might explain the rashness of his decision to stop what he had started.
Rafe had no idea whether or not Cara got this, got that he had only halted due to his concern for her. Before he had taken his next breath, she had slipped from his grasp, melted back into full wolf form and was limping away on three legs without looking back.
* * *
Cara had sensed Rafe’s reluctance to indulge in this intimate moment before he had stopped kissing her. She hadn’t wanted to face him after that.
She couldn’t afford to let him see how being close to him affected her, and how breathless she was. So she walked away from the beauty of their moment of passion, unclear about what would happen from here but not willing to change back to her human shape in order to speak of those things.
Rafe followed her, keeping a distance of a few steps between them. He said only one thing. “Let me carry you back. I can get you in without anyone seeing you. I’ve spent a lot of time there and know the place well. I can at least try to ward off the questions they will have.”
Ignoring his suggestion made her feel better in spite of the fact that her paw hurt like hell. She was being stubborn, when shifting to human form would have taken her weight off the broken bone. Still, the discomfort of a fracture didn’t last long for any werewolf, and was a minor thing for a Kirk-Killion. The same combination of wolf and vampire blood that made her so strong also allowed her to heal more rapidly than most Weres. She would never have survived this long if that hadn’t been the case.
She stopped near the wall to look at it, expecting to see more Weres looking down at her from the top. No one was there.
“They trust me,” Rafe said, coming up alongside. “They trust me to do the right thing.”
Growling at him did no good. Rafe added, “Follow me, then, if I can’t help you any other way.”
He turned and began to walk along the base of the wall, pausing once to make sure she was trailing him.
“Being naked in your human form might be less intimidating to others than your current incarnation,” he continued, speaking to her calmly, as if nothing had happened between them that should have caused her silence. “It’s up to you, though.”
She thought about biting him and decided against it. Uncertainty had muddled her thinking where Rafe Landau was concerned, and the only way to stave off these new sensations was to keep her wolf shape and her distance. The discomfort of her broken paw was preferable to the strange longing she had to mate tooth and nail with Rafe.
“There’s a break in the wall near the guardhouse,” he said. “It’s a small one, but sufficient to get through if you know about it. When we reach the other side, we can skirt the house and use a rear door. Hopefully Cameron hasn’t returned with news about the shooter. If he had, there would be plenty of activity, and I don’t see evidence of that. And just so you know, Cameron won’t tell them about you unless you want him to.”
They found the break in the wall and Rafe ushered her through it, touching her only once as she slid past him by running a quick helping hand over her black coat. The heat in his hand, so like static, raised the fur on the back of her neck.
If Rafe thought it would be easier on the rest of the Weres to see her in human form, she owed her hosts that much. She would change back for them as soon as she reached the grass.
She didn’t have that chance. Just five steps across the Landaus’ yard, the game of hide-and-seek came to an end. Lights came on. An alarm set for Were ears went up. And her Landau hosts appeared like apparitions near the driveway wearing grim, worried expressions.
Rafe moved forward without hesitation. “Possible hunter out there,” he said. “Cameron’s searching.”
Their eyes were on her.
“Cara injured a hand,” Rafe said. “It should be looked after.”
“Yes,” Dana Delmonico Landau agreed, observing Cara. “Did that hunter hurt you?”
“No,” Rafe replied for her.
“Another moment of privacy needed?” Rafe’s father asked with a hint of warning in his tone.
“Someone or something has been luring Cara out there. I’m not sure what. She will have to tell us if she wants to,” Rafe explained.
Dylan Landau searched the rim of the wall before returning his attention to her. “Maybe you’d like to tell us about that now, Cara, so that we can be better prepared if there’s trouble. I don’t like the sound of this or the news of a shooter, whether or not it’s a hunter stalking the park. And I don’t like the fact that someone else might know you’re here when that’s private pack business.”
As Rafe’s mother removed her jacket, she said to both of the men, “Why don’t you head to the house? Cara and I will be along shortly. I’ll just have a quick word with her.”
When Rafe’s gaze returned to Cara, his expression was as intense as his kisses had been. The rising heat was a continuous indicator of what he could do to her body. She could not have been hotter. Concentration was next to impossible with Rafe beside her, and her injured paw ached from the pressure she was putting on it in order to stand on all fours.
Rafe didn’t argue with his mother, probably because he realized that she’d removed her jacket to cover Cara’s nakedness after her next shape-shift. The Landaus seemed to be good at reading others and sharing.
Her wolf shape hadn’t seemed to bother or surprise them. But the mention of hunters had unsettled everyone here. Surely they would send more of the pack after the hunter, but they had no idea they’d been so close to a real threat in the form of a demon, or just how much trouble having a Kirk-Killion here could bring.
She watched Rafe go.
“I haven’t been taught the ins and outs of social graces, Rafe. I’m merely stumbling along, trying to find out how to deal.” She sent the message to him on Were channels, hoping he’d understand.
Obviously she was taking too long to deal with her own issues, because when Dana Delmonico Landau turned back to her, the older woman’s tone had changed.
“Now,” Dana said. “Why don’t you get on with that shift and tell me what is really going on.”
Chapter 15
Rafe’s mother was going to interrogate Cara. You couldn’t truly take the detective out of a person, even after they had left the force in order to be the mate of an important alpha. His mother was no exception. She was also kind and intuitive, though, especially gifted in reading thoughts and unspoken intentions.
Having been on the receiving end of these interrogations while he was growing up, Rafe didn’t envy Cara. But he figured she could handle it, even without him there.
“Did you know about her abilities?” he asked his father as they climbed the steps leading to the front porch. “About how special her wolf is?”
“I assumed Cara might have inherited that talent,” his father replied. “We had never seen anything like her mother. I was sure I’d never see anything like Rosalind again, and for a minute there, I thought I was back in the past.”
“Rosalind was a black wolf? A real wolf? That wasn’t just a rumor?”
“Oh, yes. She was terribly strong and unfailingly rebellious.”
Rafe nodded. “That rings a bell.”
His father rested a hand on the white-painted pillar. “You would have had to meet or see Rosalind to fully understand what all those combinations of spirits could do. What they were, and how they reacted. Nevertheless, Rosalind’s rebelliousness and her strength ended up saving many Were lives in the end.”
The Black Wolf Page 10