She didn’t. She didn’t have any self-control at all. Gabriel sucked it all out of her--literally.
After only a short time, he occupied her thoughts far more than he should’ve. She half wondered if she’d developed an obsession or something equally disturbing.
Surely normal women didn’t feel and think so much about a man. Just remembering his kisses sent her into instant lust. She swore she could still taste him, like spicy gumbo and warm, creamy coffee. His scent definitely still lingered on her, rubbed into her neck like a cologne--not a strong smell, but potent in its own subtle way.
Everywhere she walked, when the wind picked up, she caught just a hint of him, in her hair, on her clothes, like a finger making the come hither motion right under her nose. If she hadn’t known better, she’d swear her nose was more sensitive.
Everything seemed more ... sensorial now, scents sharper. Even the wind had it’s own distinct fragrance.
Her imagination was running overtime.
What she really should’ve done was gone back to the hotel and washed his scent off her skin. But she’d become so embroiled in her quest for the day, and smelling him on her gave her such a secret thrill--she hadn’t allowed herself the time.
It was nearly dark by the time she’d found out exactly where Shelly and Jacques LaValle were buried, and longer still to make it through the holiday traffic over there.
The cemetery was an above ground one, as most were in this part of the state due to heavy rains and soggy ground. The dusk created eerie shadows between the small mausoleums. Jessica walked along the path, broken shells and rock crunching under her sandals. She picked up her pace, eager to get out of the cemetery before dark.
She knew she should’ve just come back tomorrow, but she didn’t think she could wait that long.
A feeling grew in her, a warning to get out of Louisiana as fast as she could. She couldn’t explain why the feeling persisted, only that it did. Nothing had happened to her to cause it, but just the same....
Being in a cemetery didn’t help matters, and she was sure her imagination had gone into hyper mode. She’d never felt superstitious before, but there was something inherently creepy about dark cemeteries that she’d never noticed. A hush settled on the grounds, expectancy that she couldn’t quite comprehend.
There wasn’t anyone around--everyone inside had been entombed long ago, but the silence, coupled with hazy, failing sunlight worked together to give her the willies.
She shuddered and called herself names, rubbing her arms as she continued on her way, eager to get this done and be gone.
The mausoleums created a labyrinth of narrow passages, standing above her head to block her sight of other lanes and surroundings. It was almost like walking through a tunnel, except she could still see the sky. In the dark, it would probably seem more like catacombs.
Just when she’d decided to call it a night, she finally managed to locate her parents’
tomb. It was younger than it’s neighbors, like they’d lucked out and managed to procure the single remaining spot in the cemetery. A morbid thought, that, thinking of their “luck.”
Above the mausoleum stood an angel with her arms outstretched, her marble face tear stained from decades of rain.
Jessica touched the sun warmed marble, as if to assure herself it was real, that she’d actually found her parents’ final resting place. The stone was smooth, worn only slightly by time and weather. Peering closer, she could just make out the engraving on the tomb in the failing light. There was no testimony to their life together, or the child they had created. No haunting poetry. Merely their names and the date each was born and died.
Her mother had died June 2, 1978. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and looked at her father’s life date. He’d died on June 3, 1978. A sliver of fear slid down her back bone, raising her hackles. She shivered with foreboding. Her mother died the day she was born. She could understand that, that maybe she’d died in childbirth or complications arising afterward. But why had her father died the day after?
The tomb gave her no answers, only more questions. She felt more disturbed than ever before. In her heart, she knew something terrible had happened to them. She was grateful for the life she’d lived, for the love of her adoptive parents, but her life had been upset by the discovery. And now this.
Her entire life seemed a mystery, her roots hidden from her with no hint as to why.
Regret and disappointment sat heavy in her stomach.
She wondered who she really was.
Jessica desperately needed to know what had happened, but she’d run out of ideas to try and make sense of things. If this was a secret, and she knew it was, how was she to uncover it? It occurred to her that a library might possibly be a good place to start. She might even be able to learn something, pick up some clue, from the department of records.
She walked away, heading toward the exit. She was contemplating just how she was going to find out more about her parents’ death when she stepped out onto the main path and saw three men hanging around the front gate. Jessica stopped. Her heart quickened to a breathless pace. She tried to get a grip on herself, to reason that she was overreacting, but something about the way they stood there made fear prickle along her neck. There was no reason in the world why she should be afraid of a small group of men--but there it was.
They hadn’t seen her yet. She could almost breathe with that grateful thought filtering into her stricken brain. She could find another way to get out and get back to her hotel. And for all she knew, they were just three guys hanging out and having a good time.
She just wished she believed that.
Jessica slowly backed up, keeping her eyes trained on them. One step back.
Another and another. She started breathing regularly again, almost home free. Just as she’d reached the narrow, shadowy alley of one mausoleum row, they looked up as though they’d heard her mental sigh of relief, and spotted her. They grinned and straightened, moving forward like a pack of wolves, coming straight for her.
Jessica whirled and ran, her heart in her throat. She disappeared into the shadows, running over the irregular path, praying she wouldn’t trip over broken cobblestone or a protruding root. She didn’t know when it had gotten so dark. It hadn’t seemed that way only minutes ago.
She couldn’t see anything with the tombs above her, couldn’t hear past the steady, rapid thud of her pulse in her ears. She had a good lead on them. She could lose them in the maze of the cemetery if she just kept her wits about her.
Something howled in the night, like an animal. Excited pants carried on the air behind her.
They couldn’t have gotten to her this fast!
Jessica wanted to scream, wanted to turn around and fight. She hated being chased, hated the helplessness of being prey, but she couldn’t fight against them, not without a weapon of some sort, and she dared not slacken her pace to find one.
A pain stabbed her side, her lungs labored to drag air inside, to keep her from passing out. Jessica tore through the grounds, keeping to the deeper shadows, weaving through the tombs. She dropped her purse, left it, kept going. She headed North, hoping there was a back exit somewhere, or maybe a lighted street or a late running cemetery tour.
Why, why hadn’t she brought Gabriel with her?
Something growled right behind her, a wet, slathering sound that sent fear careening through her vitals. She could feel his hot breath on her bare back, and she did scream then.
It tore from her throat, loud and long and ripping through the air like a siren just before the man grabbed her and threw her to the ground. Jessica landed hard, rolling with the impact, broken shells grinding into her shoulder, scraping her tender skin.
She couldn’t feel any pain, nothing but the sense of weight and pressure--her body went numb with shock.
She kicked out, missing her attackers, wishing she wore heels. She couldn’t see anything, could only hear him circle her. Pebbles sprayed out,
striking her shoulders and legs, her face. Someone ran up from behind, two of them, where she couldn’t see, but she could hear heavy, excited breathing.
They didn’t rush her. It was like they were waiting for her to react. Like they were thrilled by the chase--as she knew they must be. Jessica struggled to her knees, planting her palms on the ground, clutching two handfuls of grit and shell as she rose to her feet.
The scuffle of feet told her one lunged, and she threw a handful of dirt at his face, whirling to throw it at another. They cursed, growling almost inhumanly as she dashed past them, guided only by sound and touch now. The main path opened before her, so close she could taste freedom and safety.
A hand closed in her hair, yanking her back. Rough hands groped her breasts, her waist, her hips, everywhere on her body. Jessica screamed in fury and fought them, but they were all around, holding her arms, holding her legs as they brought her to the ground.
One of them lifted her skirt and tore her panties away, burning the flesh of her hips as the thin fabric gave way. She kicked at him, satisfied to hear him grunt with pain as she connected with his cock, and then her legs were hauled apart.
Jessica screamed again, snapping her teeth at the hands that held her, rising off the ground as she bucked against their hold. Rough jeans slid up the insides of her thighs. She smelled the musky scent of bare cock and thought she’d throw up.
They were going to rape her.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
* * *
Gabriel’s wolfen senses burst to life a second before the faint scream echoed on the night air like the cry of a dove. His head snapped up, his pulse hammered, his body went tense with sudden, repressed violence.
He knew instantly who the cry came from--Jessica. The sound of his chosen one in danger reverberated through his being.
He cocked his head, centering on her location, though her voice had faded away.
She was in the cemetery, where he’d told her not to go, where he’d followed her anyway. He was close, but not close enough.
He threw his head back as the wolf inside growled, erupting from his throat in fury, a haunting challenge that carried on the air.
For the first time in his life, he was out of control. He wasn’t near enough to her.
She could be dead even now.
He refused to believe that.
He took off at a run, low to the ground, lower, leaping over obstacles in his path until he was flying with the speed of strength borne of desperation. The quickening surged in his blood, spread through his muscles, invading his every pore. The beast was eager for blood, eager to protect its claim. He recognized the cry for what it was--the sound of prey.
Someone hunted his woman.
He would kill them for hurting her.
Chapter Five
The man bent over her. Hot, fetid breath spilled over her face and chest. He stank like a dog, his feral stench turning her stomach. He growled and nuzzled her breasts roughly, as if she’d invited him to touch and taste.
She strained against her fleshly bonds, but the hands holding her down yielded nothing, allowing her not even the slightest movement.
Hopelessness crept into her, growing like a cancer.
Jessica gnashed her teeth, unwilling to succumb to it. She swore to kill them if given the chance.
In the distance, a dog howled at the moon. She wondered dimly if it was one of Gabriel’s werewolves prowling the night. She’d never be so lucky.
The man on top of her halted suddenly, sniffing the air. He snarled, growling deep in his chest, like a Doberman giving warning to a trespasser. Jessica felt her heart and lungs freeze--there wasn’t enough air to breathe.
One of the others snapped his jaws, growling in response. The hairs raised on her skin, shivers crawling over her like swarming ants. Why didn’t they speak? Their animalistic behavior kept pushing her to the edge, panic dulling her mind. She swallowed against the rising tide, trying to keep calm.
The man between her legs stiffened, twisting against her thighs. He released her abruptly as something came crashing through the night with the force of a barreling semi. The hands holding her arms and legs disappeared, ripped away. Jessica gasped at the bruising wrench, the sudden freedom. She scrambled upright, pushing her dress down, peering into the shadows. She couldn’t see anything. She felt like her eyes were closed, like this was a nightmare come horribly to life. Jessica continued scrabbling back, until cool stone pressed against her back. She kicked her feet out, waved her hands in case anyone came near.
In the dark, the men snarled and growled like pit bulls at a dog fight. Jessica didn’t know if she was more scared or relieved. Had some guard dog come to defend her?
Feet scuffled on the worn path, grunts echoed meaty strikes.
“It’s because you are pups I don’ kill you for dis,” a voice growled in the dark to the accompaniment of heavy thuds.
Jessica’s bones nearly melted from her body at the velvet drawl she’d recognize anywhere. Gabriel. Somehow, he’d come for her, known she was in trouble.
Jessica huddled on the ground, not daring to move lest she distract him. She wanted to help, but she couldn’t see a damn thing and she was too scared she’d injure him if she entered the fray.
Something liquid splashed against the ground next to her feet, and the coppery scent of blood filled the air as the beatings continued, interspersed with painful groans and shouts.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour of unbearable tension, someone touched her shoulder. Jessica startled, looking up to see the faint, star framed silhouette of a man above her.
“Chere?” Gabriel asked.
“Gabriel!” Jessica breathed in relief, getting to her feet. She hugged him fiercely and felt her thin dress soak through with sweat or blood or both--she couldn’t tell. He ran his hands against her back in soothing circles.
“Did they hurt you?” he murmured against her hair.
“No. Nothing I can’t handle.” She pulled back, wishing she could see him. “Thank you, Gabriel. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
He stifled a groan and slumped heavily against her.
“Oh my god. You’re hurt. Gabriel, where is it? Where are you hurt?” His silence unnerved her. Jessica felt around his body, but she couldn’t find anything that could have weakened him so much--unless it was something internal. The thought galvanized her. “We have to get you to a hospital.”
“No,” he said and pushed away from her.
“Yes.”
“No,” he said emphatically. “You can ... take me ... home.”
He sounded like he was just before passing out. She couldn’t blame him. He’d run off three men nearly as big as he was, and from the sound of them, they’d been insane. She didn’t have time to be impressed. They had to leave before the thugs had a chance to come back. “I’ll take you home. But first we have to catch a cab or something.”
“My car is out front,” he said, and leaned into her for support.
Jessica stood under his arm and they hobbled their way to his car--an old Camaro, its color indistinguishable in the faded dark.
She followed his directions, and he fell asleep as she drove up the Ponchartrain Expressway, getting off once they’d passed the fair grounds. A wooded area came into view, and she stopped at the first house as he’d instructed: a sprawling two story Victorian with a gazebo and porch swing on one end, interconnected with the porch curving around the house.
Jessica didn’t stop to admire the house, pulling the Camaro onto the lawn along a roughened patch of dirt until she neared the front entrance. She stopped the car and switched it off, giving Gabriel a concerned glance before she got up and went around to help him.
He came awake as she opened the door and got out on his own, but Jessica fussed and continued to help him walk. It was just like a man to try and be macho about serious injuries. She didn’t know about his, but she wasn’t about to take any more c
hances than he was already forcing her to take.
The front door was unlocked, which she found oddly trusting considering the state of this day and age, but she pushed it open and went through. A long, wide hallway shot straight through, past the narrow staircase, to the back door, and large rooms parted off from each side.
“Dere’s d’livin’ room,” Gabriel said, pointing to the right tiredly.
Jessica shuffled to it, feeling on the wall for the light switch. She found it easily enough, flipped the lights on, and guided him onto a worn, leather couch facing an old TV. He collapsed on it, closing his eyes and throwing an arm above his head. He was wearing the same basic outfit she’d seen him in before: Jeans and no shoes or a shirt. Blood smeared his chest and throat, and she knew she had to clean him off to properly to assess the situation.
Jessica left, in search of a bathroom or a kitchen. She found the kitchen in the back of the house on the left. A small cupboard above the sink revealed clean dish rags, and she pulled several out and wet them before returning to Gabriel.
She stopped in the doorway, watching him a breathless moment as she waited to see the rise and fall of his chest. Breathing a silent thanks, she went in and dropped onto the hardwood floor on her knees, leaning over his chest as she slowly wiped the blood away.
There were no wounds anywhere, not even the beginnings of bruises. She kept wiping at him until she’d cleaned his chest, then moved up to his throat and face.
Gabriel slept through her ministrations. Still, she found nothing, no wounds to explain his weariness. She changed rags and cleaned his arms and hands. His knuckles were only slightly reddened, when she’d expected to at least find them split open. She frowned down at him, wondering how he could be unscathed after a fight like that.
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