Blood Trails

by Alianne Donnelly

  He pulled sharply, felt the joint pop back into place.

  Hailey screamed and he pulled her to his shoulder to muffle the sound. Held her while she cried. “Shh,” he soothed. “I’ve got you. It’s okay; you’re okay. Easy.”

  He was still sitting there with her in his arms, rocking her like a child and smoothing her hair when she finally stopped crying some time later. He didn’t release her; she was the one who pushed away from him. “How are you feeling?”

  Hailey pulled the sheet closer around her. “Better.” She was still favoring her left arm.

  “How long does it usually take you to heal completely?”

  “About this long,” she said wryly. But when she moved the sheet to show him her arm it was one giant bruise from her neck down to her elbow.

  Jeremy hissed in sympathy. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I think I have some clothes that might fit you. Are you okay to stand?”

  “I think so.”

  He kept hold of her good elbow and an arm around her for support as she got to her feet. She was shaking from head to toe but there was stoic denial clouding her mind so he didn’t say anything. In the bathroom, he sat her down on the toilet and soaked one of the clean washcloths to wipe the bloody tears off her face.

  Hailey turned away. “I can do it,” she said, holding her hand out for the washcloth.

  He wanted to argue but her mind was already weary. She wouldn’t last long and he wanted her dressed before she passed out. Though she didn’t seem the bashful kind, he had Amelia to consider and what she would think about him seeing her sister naked. “Okay,” he said, relenting. “Don’t move from here. I’ll be right back.”

  She gave a wet scoff. “Yeah, like I’m going to be running a sprint outta here anytime soon.”

  He was back in two minutes with a pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts to find her staring dejectedly at the washcloth on the floor. It must have fallen out of her grasp and she hurt too much to bend and pick it up again.

  Come on, Ams! Catch up! The childish voice caught him off guard. Jeremy tentatively reached out to her mind and got swept up in her memory. Hailey was running and laughing, calling back to her sister. They were racing toward their parents and the ice-cream cake waiting on the table but Hailey tripped and felt so hard the memory of pain still made her twitch physically. There now, see what you did? Amelia chastised but she helped her younger sister up, wiped her tears away, and they walked the rest of the way hand in hand.

  There was heartache in that memory. So much that Jeremy found himself rubbing at a sudden hollow in his chest. He was picking up a mere echo of her emotions but if they felt like this to him, what was it like for her?

  “I’m cold,” Hailey said distractedly, without looking at him.

  “I think I can help with that. Here, give me your arm. I promise I won’t look.” She did as he asked but still wouldn’t look at him. Jeremy helped her put the shirt on, bad arm first so he wouldn’t have to wrench it later. The sheet covered her well enough that he only caught a couple of glimpses of her nakedness. Thankfully, the leopard patterns over her skin were gone.

  Her lack of response bothered him. He talked to her when he guided her feet into the sweatpants and lifted her a little to get them up over her hips. His words fell on deaf ears. If she heard anything her mind didn’t show it.

  Hush, you’re all right now, the memory Amelia was saying.

  Jeremy left the sheet around her for added warmth while he wet a clean washcloth to wipe away the blood. He washed her hands and feet of dirt and sand, looking into her eyes every so often to see how she was doing. If she’d even blinked in that time he wouldn’t have known it.

  “Okay, let’s get you to bed.”

  She roused enough at that to murmur, “I can do it,” but it was clear she was beyond standing on her own. So he picked her up and carried her to the bed, setting her down on the side that didn’t have blood on it. She turned onto her good side and curled up at once but her eyes were slow to close.

  Jeremy covered her with the thick blanket, tucked her in as best he could without jarring her bad arm, and turned off the lights. He could still make out her glowing silver eyes when he stretched out on the couch for the night. It was impossible to tell what she was looking at but the sight still made him uneasy.

  Only when her eyes closed did he finally turn away and close his own.

  Whether she remembered anything from this night or not, tomorrow morning would be one hell of a wake-up call.

  Chapter Five

  The darkness had substance. It caressed her skin, warm and sure, slipped through her hair, over her eyelids, over her lips. It was everywhere, touching every inch of her beneath the clothing she knew she wore.

  Then her clothing was gone and there was only her and the darkness. It was hands now, grasping her wrists, trailing over her taut belly, her breasts and throat. Invisible fingers tilted her head up and her lips parted.

  It was lips now, brushing over hers, teasing, but never breaching. She wanted them to. They trailed over her neck and shoulder while those hands played.

  It had mass now, weighing her down, on top of her, between her thighs. A body. A man. Faceless stranger with no shame and no hesitation. She felt his lean muscles beneath her roaming hands, felt his hard erection against her thigh. She felt his fingers probing her entrance and she raised her hips to his hand.

  He kissed her, this man who wasn’t a man, who had no taste or scent—but she knew him. She’d met him. Why was he hiding?

  He brought her knee up next to him, positioning her. She was warm wax beneath his hands. Pliable, malleable. She was his masterpiece and knew he would make her perfect. Her artist was sure and confident; he knew her, too. Knew where to kiss, how to touch; knew things about her body only its owner ever could.

  The darkness whispered with strange words. Its voice was low, sensuous. It did not need to be understood, only heard. She shivered, knowing those words to be praise; hot words to stoke her fire, make her feel beautiful and perfect, and everything a woman should be.

  It was inside her now, moving slow and deep, invading her, becoming part of her. She opened to it, welcomed it, hugged it to her breast and gave herself up to its spell. Her body wasn’t her own anymore. That darkness possessed her, took everything, but gave back so much more. It gave her pleasure, and it gave her peace.

  It gave her a beast with silken fur and rumbling purrs, a feline with feral eyes and sharp teeth, and a tail…

  It was day. And it was bright. Hailey hissed, rolling over to escape the sharp glare. The nauseating pain in her arm startled her fully awake and she sat up to take the pressure off her shoulder. It took a couple of minutes for her vision to return and when it did, she stared at her surroundings. Tacky painting on the wall. Carpet on the floor. Worn-out bed with strange-smelling sheets. A hotel room?

  And what the hell was she wearing?

  She was alone in the room but that being watched feeling made the soft hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her teeth sharpened to fangs but didn’t lengthen. This all felt wrong. How did she get here? What the hell happened last night?

  Hailey reached up to pull her hair back, offended by the white tresses hanging over her eye. The pain in her arm nearly made her pass out. She had to stop and breathe through it for a couple of minutes more. When it eased she undid the top buttons of the shirt—a man’s shirt—and drew it off her shoulder all the way to her elbow. It bared her left side down to her belly button.

  A sound.

  Her gaze darted to its origin but there was nothing, just an empty couch. Still wary, she bowed her head to examine her injury. Her entire upper arm was purple. One would think she’d remember an injury that severe.

  Growling low—it was reflex by now—she tenderly poked at her arm, looking for breaks. The last time Hailey had broken a bone, the pain had been excruciating. This was different. She curled her fingers into a fist, squeezed as tightly as she could. It hurt but she’
d be able to grasp things at least. It meant that the break wasn’t as bad as last time. Maybe just a fracture.

  Her shoulder was a whole different story. She couldn’t move her arm from its natural position at all or her shoulder joint screamed a delightful symphony of torture. Do I have any painkillers left? She couldn’t remember. And it was incidental whether she did or not, because this wasn’t her apartment!

  Hailey pulled the shirt back up over her shoulder and buttoned it enough to keep herself covered. She slid her feet down to the floor, gasping at how tender they felt.

  Another strange noise drew her gaze back to that couch. It was still empty.

  Probably just imagining things.

  The door was locked. And it looked to be biometric. If it was, she was never getting out of here until the person who lived here came back, because the stupid door wouldn’t open for anyone else. She was about to try a window when the lock clicked and the door opened an inch. She scented the air that rushed in from the outside. Metal, concrete, hint of sea and rain. No human. At least none near enough to open the door. Was it broken?

  Hailey wasn’t about to test her luck. Tucking her bad arm close, she took hold of the waistband of her sweatpants—which were way too big on her—and slipped out the door, closing it behind her. The pants were long enough and wide enough at the bottom that they hid her feet. No one would notice she wasn’t wearing shoes unless they looked close.

  Still, dressed as she was she’d draw the wrong kind of attention. So she kept to the shadows and side alleys, following her nose to find her way back to her apartment. A lot of it seemed déjà vu but she was sure she’d never come through here before. Not lucid, anyway.

  Footsteps sounded behind her seeming to follow her but faded quickly and she shrugged it off. She couldn’t scent anything and she trusted her nose.

  The beast was silent in her mind, sleeping off a long night. Hailey hoped it had been a good one because she wasn’t about to have another. Playtime was suspended indefinitely.

  A group of teenagers came out of the warehouse at the end of the block, coming up her way. She could smell drugs on them and about two weeks of dirt and BO. Drawing close to the building, she gave them a wide berth. Even so, when they passed her they did it side by side, taking up too much space.

  The one on the inside barreled into her as if she didn’t even exist. He slammed into her bad shoulder and she was turned by the force of it. Her back touched the building and she leaned on it, stars dancing in front of her eyes, bile rising up her throat. She clenched her teeth, bit back the nausea along with the scream tearing at her chest. The tears were much harder to blink back. For a moment she couldn’t even breathe.

  Shaking from the effort it took to keep upright, Hailey concentrated on the sound of their retreat, tracking them by it until they turned the corner five blocks up. That was how long it took to regain her balance and risk pushing away from the wall. She stumbled on the first step but recovered and kept going.

  Her hopes of a quiet escape crashed and burned when she reached her apartment and found the security door shut. The key was on the countertop inside. Her good arm linked among the bars for support and she touched her forehead to one of them, closing her eyes. She would beat her forehead against it if she wasn’t in enough pain already.

  “I’m curious about what your plan was once you got this far.”

  If her good arm hadn’t been tangled in the bars she would have clawed the man’s throat open without thinking, on instinct. “Are you suicidal?” she snarled when she extricated herself and turned to face him. Now that she could see him she could scent him, too. It was the same scent that lingered in the shirt she wore. “Where did you come from?”

  He was dressed much like she was, only his pants weren’t sliding off him and his shirt was only half buttoned, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. And unlike her, he wasn’t barefoot. She could feel her eyes glow with misplaced interest and was glad for the light of day that disguised it. The man was… In her mind she purred looking at him—she did, not the beast. He was tall, his shoulders wide but he wasn’t bulky, more athletic like a gymnast. Dark blond hair, shadow of a beard that just looked so damn sexy on this one.

  Her dream returned to her in a flash, doing a quick rerun of things that made her sex clench and her knees turn weak. God, she hadn’t felt like this in months. Even the beast stirred at this unexpected turn of events.

  Hailey remembered a man touching her, petting her; she remembered his breath on her skin and his mouth on hers as if it had really happened. A faceless stranger plucking her strings like a master musician and she’d sung for him, screamed for him. This man somehow reminded her of that. But how? She’d never seen her dream lover’s face.

  Had her mind degenerated into full-blown hallucinations? Or was she just so damn horny that any man would do? No, that couldn’t be it. The guy seemed familiar somehow. Was he her dream lover? She didn’t know what was more embarrassing: talking to herself or fantasizing about a stranger when he was standing right in front of her…

  …watching her like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Eyes so dark blue … they looked black…

  Recognition slammed into her. Because she’d seen this one in a dream before.

  And it hadn’t been the one she’d assumed.

  “You.” She hissed the accusation, now regretting not having ripped his throat out.

  He just stood there, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at her as if she was the one who’d screwed everything up. “Where are you going, Hailey? Where do you plan to run? You can’t even get into your own apartment.”

  “Do you have,” she said, enunciating each syllable precisely through her clenched teeth, “any idea what you’ve done?”

  “I saved you,” he said easily.

  “You’re the one who triggered the change in the first place!” A goddamn telepath skulking about in her head. She’d known he didn’t belong! Even dreaming, she’d known it.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Let’s start again. My name is Jeremy Calen. I am here on behalf of your sister, Amelia. She sent me to find you.” He extended a hand, all angry male struggling to be civil.

  Hailey didn’t reciprocate. “You found me. You’re done. Good-bye.”

  “Not that easy,” he said, dropping the hand. “I’m supposed to bring you back.”

  She laughed and it was not a pleasant sound at all. With her voice still ravaged she sounded like a forty-year smoker. “Yeah, I can see that. So what’d you have in mind, Jer, a leash or a kennel?” She didn’t wait for him to reply but gave him her back, searching inside her apartment for something she could use.

  “At the moment, I am seriously considering a muzzle,” he said. “And where I’m from, it’s considered polite to look at the person who’s talking to you.”

  “I am being very nice about this,” she told him, with just a hint of warning. “But don’t push me, Jeremy Calen. Don’t provoke me into doing something we’ll both regret. One of us more than the other.”

  Her cat grumbled. It wanted her to do something bad. Just not in the same way Hailey did. Lust sparked in her veins, made her breath come quicker. Deliberately, Hailey filled her mind with thoughts of violence to mask her body’s irrational reaction to him.

  He moved so fast she didn’t have time to react and she had a suspicion he was manipulating her into thinking that. He grabbed her good arm, twisted it behind her and backed her against the security door. “You mean like this?” his voice rumbled; she could feel it vibrating through the air. He was almost nose to nose with her. “Come on, kitty, show me those claws of yours.”

  The male’s scent made her mouth water for a taste. She could feel the heat of his body on her chilled, traumatized flesh and wanted to take it into herself. Aggression rolled off him, mixed with a dose of lust so potent it made her head spin. This guy wasn’t the “as it please you” type. Instinct and the short but vivid preview last night—which she wa
s now almost certain had been him—told her he’d be a force of nature in bed.

  This one could match me.

  The beast’s interest grew more, flooding her mind with images she couldn’t block out. The more she fought them, the more the beast rose to the fore and it pissed her off, as it scared her.

  “Don’t,” she said, and it came out more of a plea than a warning. Her fangs were aching; her body quaked, tensing to shift. Her bad arm hurt so much she could feel tears pushing to flood her eyes. Hailey wouldn’t let them. She dug her sharp claws into her palms and breathed through it, counting to ten then back to one in her head.

  Those blue-black eyes searched hers and then Jeremy released her without a word, stepping back to the edge of the sidewalk to give her space. “You’re not healing.”

  “Thanks for stating the obvious,” she said. It came out breathless.

  “You can’t keep going like this. It’s suicide and you know it.”

  “It’s my life! Stay out of it.”

  “I can help you,” he said tightly. He’d gone tense as if he was about to jump her again. “If you come with me, we can get this sorted out. We can find a way to fix you. You didn’t maul me last night.”

  Hailey turned away so he wouldn’t see her face turn red. Bits and pieces of her little outing were beginning to come back to her. The beast wanted her to know. Not only had she not mauled him, she’d practically offered herself up on a silver platter. A pretty damn romantic scene: moonlit beach, city skyline lit up in the night … and her furry tail lifted in the air. God, she was never going to live that one down. “A mistake I don’t intend to repeat.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “To your own peril, then.”

  “You seriously want to do this on your own so badly.” It was a statement rather than a question but he still seemed to expect an answer.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I would like my clothes back.”

  She whirled back on him, jaw slack.

  All he did was raise an eyebrow and hold out his hand expectantly. He was serious!