With a sweeping gesture, Warlock sent a wave of magic rippling across the field. Everywhere it touched, sparks devoured the corpses of his men and eliminated every bloodstain, every crushed leaf, every broken stem. Even the Hummer and the two motorcycles disappeared, their component energy stored for later use as thundering blasts of magic. When it was done, there was no sign anyone had ever fought and died here.
Warlock summoned another gate and stalked through it, back to his lair deep in the mountains of North Carolina.
It was a damn good thing Danvers had called during the chase to report the tag number of the girl’s car. Otherwise Warlock would have no idea how to find her. As it was, the Fenir team’s computer hacker would be able to track her.
And where she was, they’d find Smoke.
Fluffy did not, as a rule, like cats. But she sure liked Fang.
Actually, Eva didn’t blame her. Now that she’d figured out where the hell they were, and Fang had finished his mind-blowing story—witches, vampires, and god cats, may Jesus have mercy—she was feeling a little better about life.
Besides, Fang looked way too much like David, flavored with just a hint of Animal Planet. There was heat in his burning blue eyes, and his pupils were fat black ovals he kept fixed on her.
His shoulders looked very broad in that short-sleeve knit shirt.
She had a thing for shoulders. Also biceps that looked thick and round and bite-able. Add a narrow waist and a truly world-class ass ... Come to think of it, she liked the whole damned package.
Especially the package.
Oh, yum, Fluffy purred. I want.
She smelled like sex.
Cat breathed deeply, drinking her scent, the femininity brushed with traces of fur and wind and deep forests. He’d finished telling her what he knew of their situation, and she’d begun to make her peace with it.
Which was a good thing, since his cock lay long and hungry behind the zipper of his jeans, eager for a taste of her.
Her gaze flicked sideways at him as she drove, and his keen night vision detected the blush that darkened her high, pretty cheeks.
Eva was as aware of his scent as he was of hers. And she liked it. Maybe more than she was comfortable with. Shifting in the car’s leather seat, she focused on the road with obvious determination. Cat let his gaze drift down her body, lingering on the rise of her breasts, her delicate hands gripping the wheel, her thighs encased in well-worn denim.
“You’re purring,” she said, without looking at him.
“Ciardhas mate for life.”
As he’d known it would, the statement brought her wide eyes darting to meet his. She immediately jerked them back to the road, swallowing. “And your point would be?” Her obvious attempt to sound cool failed when her voice cracked.
“We dreamed of you. Before we were broken, when we were still one. We dreamed of you for weeks. We knew we would meet you, but we did not know when.”
“David never said anything about that.” She frowned at the rear of the SUV just ahead and accelerated as the light changed. “Then again, David doesn’t remember a damned thing.” Her gaze flicked to him, then as quickly away. “But you do.”
“I kept parts of us he did not.” Cat shrugged. “Smoke believed shoving our magic down Warlock’s throat was the only way we would survive. But he did not realize how devastating it would be for us, or how difficult it would be to regain what we lost.” He took a deep breath, deciding the time had come to explain. “When they attacked us—hurt you—my rage drove me to the surface and I pushed David aside. At the end ... I did not know who you were in your werewolf form.”
She turned to look at him, eyes wide. “So it was you who ...”
“Butchered them? Yes.” He bared his teeth. “They hurt you. But when I saw how you feared me, I called Smoke. He tore away from Warlock and answered. At least, until Warlock dragged him back.”
“Wait—Warlock has Smoke’s mind?”
“Most of it. Warlock has walled it away to keep from being overwhelmed. The elemental is very powerful, and he would wipe Warlock’s mind if given the chance. But with his power turned against him, Smoke is trapped behind that spell. Reaching him is difficult, even with our bond. Luckily, your fear so infuriated me, I was able to free him.” He sighed, the sound brooding. “Unfortunately, it didn’t last.”
She said nothing for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the road. “Yeah, well, I’m afraid of a lot of things. I was useless in that fight.” Her lips peeled off her teeth. “Sucks being a coward.”
Studying her profile, Cat recognized shame. He found himself bitterly missing his spirit brothers. Either of them would know what to say to comfort her, but he had no idea.
“You are not a coward.” His snarl made her look over in surprise—and, he saw to his shame, a little fear. He fought to gentle his tone. “A coward would not have stood beside me when you could have run away.”
“Key word there is ‘stood.’ I didn’t fight.”
“Yes, you did. You killed one of them.”
She brightened a little. “He was charging you from behind, and I just ... hit him. Didn’t even have time to think about it.”
“That doesn’t sound like cowardice to me. You saved my life, Eva. You need to stop selling yourself short.”
Eva looked startled. He decided to let her think about that.
She’d saved his life.
Well, maybe he’d have heard the guy coming and defended himself—he’d sure made short work of those other jerks. But maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe she had saved him.
True, it wasn’t the first time; Eva had helped David escape Warlock last night. But this was different. She’d actually fought a werewolf, and she’d won. Her fear had not paralyzed her. Which meant it didn’t have to. She could gain control.
Still, she needed to learn how to fight. Eva didn’t delude herself; she’d gotten in a lucky shot she’d seen in a Spider-Man comic book. That was not the kind of thing that she could pull off twice.
Still, whether he was Cat or David, her lover knew his way around a fight. He’d probably be willing to teach her what she needed to know.
She stole a glance at him as she pulled into the Drayton Apartments complex. He was watching her, his gaze steady and intent in a way that just radiated sex.
Fluffy woke up with a happy little bounce. Yeah, baby, yeah!
Down, girl.
Oh, come on! Look at him. Yum.
That’s not David, that’s Fang.
So let me have him.
Come to think of it, Fang and Fluffy would probably be very happy together. One big ball of furry fornication.
Eva, however, had no intention of cooperating. She wanted David.
She parked the car in her assigned spot and set the hand break with a savage jerk.
Fang saved your life, Fluffy pointed out.
Hard to argue with that. If Fang hadn’t turned those guys into minced asshole, she’d be dead right now. And it wouldn’t have been a fun death, either.
But, still.
Carefully not looking at Fang, Eva got out of the car, recovered the sword from the back, and started up the stairs. She could almost feel Fang’s hungry gaze on her ass.
Fluffy started singing “I Want Your Sex” in the key of R. Fluffy wasn’t going to be on American Idol anytime soon.
Cut it out!
Fluffy just snickered.
Eva’s cell phone rang as they were walking in the door. She pulled it out of her pocket to check caller ID, and winced. “Oh, hell.” Flipping the phone open, she reached for a cheery tone. “Hi, Mom!”
“Eva Naomi Roman, I have been going out of my mind!” Charlotte Roman’s normally pleasant voice sounded just a little shrill. “Why didn’t you call?”
Eva winced, dropped the sword on the table, and started lying. Fortunately, five years as a werewolf had made her good at it. “I’m sorry, Mom. David and I were a little busy talking to the police.”
“What happ
ened? Your father told me that creep Ronnie and some friends showed up at the shop. He was scared to death for you—” Her father’s voice interrupted with a rumble of protest. “Oh, shut up, Bill. We’ve been married thirty years. You think I don’t know when you’re scared? Eva, what happened?”
“We got lucky.” She turned to find David/Fang listening with acute interest. “We saw a police car, so I turned on my flashers and blew my horn. The cop pulled over, and I pulled in behind him. Ronnie and his friends roared off.”
“But you made a police report, right?” her mother asked anxiously. “Is he going to be charged?”
“Probably not.” This was turning into a very complicated lie. Which sucked, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. “The cop said if Ronnie tries anything else, we can file charges.”
Bill came on the line. “That’s not going to stop the bastard. I’m coming over there to kick his ass.”
Oh, hell. “No! No, Dad, David’s already dealt with Ronnie. He promised he won’t try anything else again.”
“You mean that long-haired pussy—”
“Bill Roman!” her mother snapped. “Watch your mouth!”
“—Actually did something?”
“He’s not a pussy, Dad.” A cat, maybe, but definitely not a pussy. She grinned. “And yes, he gave Ronnie a punch in the teeth. Made him promise he’d never try anything like that again. So everything’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” Suspicion darkened Charlotte’s pleasant voice. Something had definitely set off her momdar, God help them all.
“I’m sure. We won’t have any more trouble with Ronnie.” Which was the utter truth, unlike the rest of the conversation.
“Well, let me know if you do,” Bill growled. “Ronnie’s a shit. Do him a world of good to be on the receiving end of my fist.”
“I’m sure it would, but David’s got it covered. Listen, I need to fix dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Nope, it’s Thursday. You’ve got Friday off, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Good thing, too. There were a number of things she needed to work through.
After saying good-bye and plugging her phone into its charging stand, Eva headed for the kitchen. Changing into a werewolf always made her hungry enough to eat a yak—violating the laws of physics will do that to you. Which was why she kept a stack of T-bones in the freezer.
She got out a couple and stuck them on a pan under the oven’s broiler, uncorked a Cabernet Sauvignon and poured two glasses full of fruity red goodness, then went to work on a salad.
Eva chopped vegetables until it was time to turn the meat. That done, she went back to work at the cutting board, all the while acutely aware of Fang standing far too close. Eva stopped slicing bell peppers to look at him. “I tawt I taw a puddy tat.”
He blinked. “I do not understand.”
“You’re staring at me like a cartoon cat watching something in a cage. Cut it out.”
He contemplated her, frustration replacing hunger. “Sometimes you make no sense at all.”
Eva snorted. “You’re not the first man to tell me that, Fang.”
“My name is Cat.” He took a step closer, forcing her to look up at him. She was acutely aware of his hands, his heat, his strong, hard body. And his eyes, so very, very blue. “Fang is a joke. I am not a joke.” His hand caught her behind the back of her neck and drew her against him. And his mouth swept down to cover hers.
He was right. There was nothing at all funny about his kiss. His mouth moved over hers, slow and hot and tempting. He caught her lower lip between his teeth in a gentle bite until she opened her mouth to gasp. His tongue swept inside in a bold, licking stroke.
By the time he took a lazy step back, she was left staring at him with her heart pounding in deep lunges that vibrated her sternum.
Cat picked up a pot holder, opened the oven, and pulled out the broiler pan. The steaks sizzled loudly as he put the pan on the stove.
“Oh,” Eva muttered. “I thought that sound was me.”
One corner of his mouth quirking upward, he took the flatware and wineglasses and sauntered to the kitchen table. He had really broad shoulders.
Told you, Fluffy said.
Shut up. Eva started plating the food. Maybe if I stuff him full of meat, he won’t be able to molest me.
Fluffy hooted. You want something stuffed full of meat, but it’s not him.
You’ve got a trashy streak, furball.
Yeah, and you talk to yourself.
Eva was uncomfortably conscious of Cat the whole time they ate. The slide of muscle in his strong forearms when he cut his steak with neat efficiency, the crow-wing gleam of his long hair, tucked back to reveal the elegant curve of one pointed ear. The way his sensual lips closed over a bite of steak and drew it off his fork. His hungry gaze watched her over the rim of his wineglass whenever he took a sip. As aware of her as she was of him.
Her nipples hardened. Eva crossed her legs under the table and looked away from the precise angles of his face.
Feeling the need for a little more distance, she got up and started clearing the table as soon as they were finished eating. The tactic backfired when Cat rose to help her, his big hands brushing hers as he collected knives, forks, and salad bowls.
They loaded the dishwasher, Eva showing him where the different items went. By the time they finished, her senses were thrumming with awareness of his size, his masculinity, his sheer heat.
Collecting the wine bottle and her glass, Eva retreated to the living room couch. Which was a tactical mistake. Cat sauntered after her lazily, his own glass cupped in long fingers.
She looked up at him as he sank down next to her. “Cat, I really ...”
Before she could finish her sentence, his mouth covered hers again, hot and demanding, his fingers brushing her jaw, trailing fire along her skin. She made a little sound, a tiny, helpless moan.
God, he tasted good. Wine and masculinity and a trace of something wild. His hand slipped down the line of her throat, a teasing dance that made her shiver in anticipation.
Fluffy started purring.
Heat raced over Eva’s skin as fierce desire ignited, the feral need blazing high. His fingers closed over her breast, squeezing and stroking as he kissed her, his tongue swirling inside her mouth in hot demand.
Bending her back against the arm of the couch, he reached down, grabbed the hem of her Comix Cave T-shirt, and pulled it high to reveal the pale curves of her breasts cupped in rose lace. He lowered his head, took the lace between his teeth, and dragged it down until he could reach her nipple. Then he began raking it with his teeth and swirling his tongue over the peak until she twisted in need.
Drowning in a rising tide of heat, it took her a few minutes to realize something was missing. He looked like David, but he didn’t make love like her lover. His hands were just the slightest bit rougher in the way they handled her, the rake of his teeth a fraction harder. Not enough to hurt, but more ruthless, more demanding. The tenderness David had shown her just wasn’t there. Cat made love as if he was demanding her surrender.
And she wanted to surrender. She really did. But she couldn’t.
Don’t you dare bail, hissed Fluffy. I want him!
“Cat,” Eva gasped.
He kept licking, kept raking those sharp teeth across her nipple.
“Cat!” But he kept right on. “Cat, dammit, stop!”
He looked up to meet her gaze, his pupils hairline slits across irises of ice blue. “What?”
She tried to jerk out his arms, only to wince when his urgent hands didn’t release her. “Ouch! Let me go!”
Instantly, he opened his hands. She scooted back. “I am sorry! Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine.” She closed her eyes to shut out the panic in his eyes as he started to reach for her, only to pull back. “I’m really sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” He looked her over anxiously. “Are you sure I did not hurt you?”
�
�I said I’m fine, okay?” Between frustrated hunger and her own confusion, the words came out more sharply than she’d intended, and he flinched slightly. Eva rose from the couch and began to pace restlessly, not sure how to put her sudden conviction into words. “Look, this just isn’t going to work.”
“What do you mean? Talk to me, Eva.” It was a command, half-growled in his deep voice.
“This doesn’t feel right—making love to you. You’re not David.”
He blinked and drew back, a flash of pain darting across his eyes. “No. I am Cat.”
“It’s not that I’m not attracted to you ...”
“But I’m not human.”
“No, I mean—” She raked her hair out of her eyes with a growl of frustration. “Fuck, I don’t know what I mean.”
“Yes, you do.” His mouth twisted. “As you said, I am not David. And David is who you want.”
She winced, but she had to be honest with him. “Yeah.”
Cat shook his head. “Eva, if our enemy does not kill us, sooner or later we’ll be one again. Will you think we are not David enough then?”
Eva stared at him, feeling a little sick. “I don’t ...”
“Very well,” Cat said, lifting his chin. “If you want David, you will have him.”
“Look, I only meant ...” Before she could say anything more, his body arched in a bow of pain. His eyes rolled back, hands curling into helpless claws.
“Cat!” She jumped forward, managing to grab him just before he convulsed his way right off the couch. For a moment, it was all she could do to contain the furious lash of his big body, even with her were strength.
Abruptly he went limp in her arms with a weak groan.
Fear chilled her. “Cat? Cat, are you ...”
His eyes opened to look at her in dazed confusion. “Eva?”
As she gazed into his handsome face, she realized David was back.
Cat had indeed brought him back to the surface for her.
Master of Smoke Page 11