He carried her to the bathroom and cranked on the water, filling the tub while he cradled her. Using the water was the only thing he could think of; not just because it was warm, either. When he’d been spelled by the Black Coven, Rylee had used water and salt to break it. Maybe this was the same?
“Alex, bring me the salt.”
The werewolf did as he asked, even pouring it into the water for him, stirring it around with the tip of one claw before retreating with a frown on his face.
Instinctively, O’Shea stroked her hair. How could he not have seen her for what she was? For so many years, he’d accused her of murdering her own sister, blinded by his own ego to the point where he couldn’t admit he was wrong.
When the tub was full, he slipped her body in, but she couldn’t hold herself upright. Without another thought, he pulled her back out, stripped himself down to his shorts, and put her back in the tub. Shifting her forward, he slipped in behind her, and put one arm across her clavicle, the other around her waist. Already, the water and salt seemed to be doing the trick; her face pinked up and her eyelids fluttered.
“Liam.” She whispered his name. He sat very still, suddenly aware of a large set of eyes watching him from the doorway. Frowning, golden, werewolf eyes. He frowned back.
“What?”
“Rylee mine. Not yours.” Alex snapped his teeth at O’Shea then sat down in the doorway, continuing to glare at him.
If he hadn’t been sitting in a tub of water, a naked woman in his arms and a serious problem with his body’s reaction to the naked woman in his arms, he would have dealt with this. He’d had dogs before, knew that the minute they thought they were dominant you were in trouble. No doubt it was the same with werewolves.
Right.
*-*-*-*
Blissfully warm, I snuggled under the covers, recognizing the smell of my usual stop at John’s motel. I didn’t remember actually pulling in, the details of the last few hours were fuzzy. Stretching out, there was the familiar weight of a werewolf across my legs, but that wasn’t what stilled my movements.
The hand resting on my hip, the deep breathing in my ear, and the rather distinct and unfamiliar feel of a large man pressed against my naked backside had me questioning what exactly had happened. I opened my eyes to see the still tattered curtains from our last visit giving me glimpses of the heavy snow falling. I felt like I was in some kind of weird time warp.
“You awake?” O’Shea’s voice rumbled in my ear, the vibration from his chest against my back too pleasant by far.
I sat up fast, my head spinning. “Yeah. What the hell happened?” I clutched the blanket around my body, not shy, just feeling more vulnerable than I could have imagined without clothes and a weapon or two. Go figure.
O’Shea sat up, then leaned against the rickety headboard; a smile ghosted across his lips. “You don’t remember?”
Staring at his broad, deliciously naked chest, I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
The demon. Faris and Berget. The Jeep flipping over. It all muddled up inside my head; I groaned and shut my eyes. “My gear?”
“Got it.”
I peeked out at him between the fingers of my one hand. Of all the men I had to go and lust after, it had to be one, the FBI agent who’d been after me for ten years, and two, Milly’s current boy toy. Fuck me, I had bad taste.
The bed creaked and my eyes flew open, but O’Shea was just shifting his weight, crossing his legs. He was still wearing his pants at least. His dark eyes watched me carefully, but he didn’t seem angry.
“Talk to me, Rylee. What’s really going on?”
Come on, Rylee, be a grown up. Let him help you. I chided myself, knowing indeed, I did need his help now. At least until I could purge this venom out of my system.
“Apparently the demon we fought while rescuing India was a Hoarfrost demon. I got a sting from it.” That was an understatement. “And now I am affected by the cold to the point of . . . .”
He finished for me, “Passing out.”
I blew out a breath, not wanting him to know it could, in fact, kill me. Some things were better left unsaid. “Yeah. And I’m headed into Bismarck to meet up with a single mom.”
“You need to take care of yourself before you go after a kid. You’re no good to him or her in this kind of shape.”
My arm muscles tightened, and I did my best to rein in my anger. He had, after all, saved my bacon. “I’m going after this kid. Now I know I just have to stay warm; there isn’t an issue.”
Snorting, he leaned forward, stomach muscles bunching into a perfect six-pack. I clamped my hands around the sheets, blood pumping at the sight of him.
He nodded. “I know better than to try and stop you.”
“Good.”
Dark eyes narrowed. “Which means you need to see how bad this really is. If you can walk from this hotel room to the SUV without shivering, then I’ll help you go after this kid. Right now.”
Oh no, he wasn’t going to try and manipulate me, was he?
“And if I can’t?” My voice was deadly soft.
“We take care of you first. Then come back for the kid.”
I was already shaking my head. “No deal. I do this my way.”
He stood up, looming over me, bare chest a serious distraction for my thoughts. “You almost died, because of cold weather that isn’t even that cold. It’s barely hovering around freezing. You can’t go after this kid—”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do! I didn’t ask you to look out for me!” I forgot I was naked and rose to my knees on the bed.
We were nose to nose, screaming. Right back to the first day we’d met.
O’Shea put his hands on my shoulders, and then shoved me back onto the bed. “You are the most arrogant, delusional person I have ever met. You can’t help this kid if you die. If you’re dead, how many other kids are going to go unfound?”
God damn it, that hit below the belt.
“This could be a quick salvage, but I won’t know that until I go see the mother.” I was bargaining; I knew he had me. How had I lost control of this situation? The sheet slipped down further, baring even more skin to the open air. It wasn’t cold, but a shiver traced through me as O’Shea’s eyes dipped, widened and dilated.
The air between us all but crackled with tension. His jaw twitched and ever so slowly he lifted his eyes to mine.
“Wherever you go, I go too.”
My teeth ached from gritting them. “Fine.” I took great pleasure in seeing his eyes widen and his eyebrows climb with my agreement.
“You aren’t going to argue with me?”
I shrugged in an attempt to act like I didn’t care. “I will admit that I might need some help on this one, at least until I get the venom out of my system. It doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to anything more.”
O’Shea took a step back. “If this salvage turns out to be more than an easy find, we go get you the help you need. Deal?”
Everything I believed fought me on this. The kids always came first; they had to. Swallowing hard, I thought about how I had been unable to move, the cold paralyzing me. “Agreed.”
As if he’d known my answer he gave a sharp nod of his head. “Let’s get going then. There’s still an hour or so left of light, enough to get where we need to go.” He picked up his shirt where it hung over single chair in the room and walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I glanced down at Alex who had remained surprisingly quiet throughout the whole exchange.
“You okay, Alex?” I reached over to touch his back, his fur warm under my hand.
Frowning, he rolled away from me with a grumble. “Hate stupid man with gun.”
A burst of laughter I couldn’t stop leapt out of me. “You hate him now?”
“Stupid man.”
Although there were days I would have agreed with him, today was not one of them. I most likely owed my life to the FBI agent.
“Okay, that’s all right. But he’s c
oming with us. He’s going to help us find a kid. So you be nice.”
“I be nice. Nice with teeth.”
Milly’s words rang in my ears. Nope, that was so not going to happen. I had to nip this in the bud now. I grabbed Alex by the throat and he yelped as I first pulled him toward me, and then pinned him to the bed on his back.
“No teeth. Ever.” I clenched my fingers around his neck, digging in. Amber eyes bugged out and fear quickly replaced the defiance that had been brewing. He flailed underneath me, the sheets tangling his legs, his claws catching my bare skin in places. I couldn’t let up, not until we had this settled.
“Alex sorry!” He yelped, his voice a strangled cry, but he still fought me.
“Not good enough.” I hated that I had to do this, but couldn’t let him threaten people, because if he hurt someone, I would be the one who would have to end his life, and I didn’t think I had it in me.
He finally went still, his whole two hundred pounds trembling underneath me. He could have killed me, but he was too submissive to even try.
“Rylee hate Alex.”
“No, I don’t hate you. I love you, Alex. That’s why you have to be good.”
Something shifted in his eyes. “You love Alex?”
“Yes, that’s why you can’t bite people. I don’t want to lose you. You’re my friend.”
His lips trembled over his misshaped muzzle, and tears gathered up in his eyes. “Rylee like stupid man better than Alex.”
Oh. My. God. I felt like he’d kicked me in the gut. Of course, he could scent things like desire and lust. I hung my head and lifted my hands from his neck. This was my fault. With the sheets tangled around us I pulled him up into my arms and held him tight. His fur tickled my bare skin and the brush of his claws on my back only heightened my awareness of how much responsibility I truly had with him. In essence, he was a child trapped in a potential killer’s body, one that I had to keep in line.
“No one will ever take your place, Alex. You will always be my wolf. Okay?”
He snuffled against my shoulder and glanced up at me. “Love Alex?”
“Yes, I’ll always love Alex. No matter what.”
A soft shuffle drew my eyes to the bathroom doorway where O’Shea stood, dressed and watching us. He cleared his throat.
“Your clothes are in the bathroom.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” Taking a sheet with me, I stood, my legs wobbly at first, and walked to the bathroom. I had to get my feelings for O’Shea under control. If not for myself, then for Alex.
5
My clothes were folded on the back of the toilet seat, my weapons on top. Gotta love a man that can fold clothes. No, bad Rylee! No love for O’Shea! If only it were that easy.
The bathroom was warm, but even so, my skin prickled with awareness. I had demon venom surging through me. Shit, what a way to start a salvage. While I dressed, I reached out with my abilities, brushing up against the venom. It was so cold it felt like it was burning, and I pulled back from it, tentatively trying a different approach. I didn’t like things inside of me I couldn’t understand, and I’d never before had to deal with something that felt like it was alive and crawling around in my body.
I tried to poke at it, but the thing was, the venom wasn’t just a lump in my chest where I’d been stung, it was systemic, running through my veins as if it were a part of me. Like a colony of ants making my body their home. Shivering, I stared at the place I’d been stung, using my second sight to see the faint outline of a snowflake. It was lacy and black, and under any other circumstance I would have thought it was a cool tattoo.
As I slipped into my jacket, doing up the buttons, I pulled back my ability and left the venom alone. If Doran could truly help me, then so be it; while I didn’t trust Faris, Berget had said the same thing. Go to Doran. I just had to hold it together long enough to get this kid.
I stepped out of the bathroom and Alex was sitting with his head on O’Shea’s lap.
“I gave him a cookie,” O’Shea said.
Smiling, I took a deep breath. “Glad you two boys are getting along.”
Alex lifted his head and gave me a doggy grin, wagged his tail and let out a fart. Grimacing, I headed for the door.
“I’ve got the SUV warming up, give it a minute,” O’Shea said, but I was already out the door and heading for the front office, not even bothering to try his cell phone or mine. I needed space between us, and a moment to myself, even if it was just in John’s office.
The wind and snow had picked up while I was out of it and all but howled around me. The venom coursing through me pulsed in time with the gusts of ice that yanked on my hair and clothes.
I jerked the door open to the manager’s office and had to push it shut behind me, the wind was blowing so hard.
“Ry? What are you doing here? I didn’t see your Jeep pull in,” John said, his battered cowboy hat pushed back so he could see me.
“Yeah, I came in with a friend. Flipped the Jeep on the highway.”
“Shit, you look not too bad for being flipped over.”
I gave him a smile, my teeth chattering lightly just from that small exposure to the elements. Gods be damned, this was going to be more difficult than I thought. There had been a dim hope I could fight off the cold on my own now that I knew it was venom causing the problem; just tough it out. So much for that thought.
“Can I use your phone? I missed an appointment.”
John waved me in. “Sure, phone’s in the back.” I scooted around the desk and into the inner sanctum of the office. Paperwork was neatly filed on one side; on the other it was piled in several spots. Mary, John’s wife, was as tidy as they came. John, on the other hand, not so much. There was a small woodstove burning hot, keeping the storm at bay. I huddled as close to it as I could, the heat from the fire warming me considerably.
Under one of the piles, I found an older style rotary phone and a phone book. I looked up the bar, ‘Bottom’s Up,’ and dialed.
The beat of the pounding music was the first thing I heard.
“Bottoms up, baby.” Was the second sound that came through loud and clear.
“Hey, is Jewel there?” I fingered the curled cord of the phone around my hand.
“Yeah, she got stood up by some appointment, but she’s still waiting.”
“Tell her I’m on my way. The snowstorm sidelined me.”
The guy grunted. “And you are?”
“Her appointment.”
“Name?”
“Just tell her I’m on my way,” I said, ending the conversation.
One more phone call to make. I dialed home, waited three rings, was almost on the fourth before Milly picked up with a sultry hello.
“Milly, what do you know about demons?” I asked softly, keeping my voice low. No need to freak John out.
I could hear her breathing, but she didn’t answer. “Milly?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“I just . . . .”
“Nothing, I know nothing about demons. Don’t ask me questions like that!” She hung up before I could get in another question. Shit, so much for help from my best friend.
The door chimed and O’Shea’s voice reached my ears. A rush of heat that had nothing to do with me standing next to the woodstove, and everything with thinking about being in bed naked with O’Shea, made me tingle all the way down to my toes. I had to get this desire under control. Taking slow even breaths, I thought about Milly and O’Shea in bed together, his broad chest under her hands, her long dark hair trailing around his face. Yup, that did it. Hurt and anger replaced the lust, and I stalked out to the main room, a glower on my face.
John stepped out of my way, smart man. “Take care, Ry.”
“Thanks, you too, John.”
I brushed past O’Shea and outside, running to the dark SUV waiting for me. Slipping into the front passenger seat, I slammed the door. At my feet was my bag of weapons and supplies, including my little black box. In the b
ack Alex sat patiently, tracing designs in the fogged up windows with his claw tips. He seemed happier now, more relaxed. Maybe all he needed was reassurance that he wouldn’t be ousted of his spot in my life. My fingers were crossed that was all it would take, but I doubted it. Werewolves were territorial, and if he’d decided I was part of his territory, even though I outranked him and he was ridiculously submissive, he would protect and defend me against anything to the death. Even against a human like O’Shea.
Speaking of the agent, he opened the driver’s side, sat and quickly shut the door behind him, his eyes flicking over to me as he started up the SUV.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Bottoms Up. You know it?” I batted my eyelashes at him. “What am I saying? You’re a man, of course you know about the best stripper joint in town. I’ll bet you don’t even need directions.”
The muscles in his neck flexed and he took a sharp breath in through his nose. His irritation was obvious to me, and I focused on it.
Driving the rest of the way into Bismark was, to say the least, awkward. I was doing my best not to think about how O’Shea’s bare skin had felt against mine, but in the silence my mind kept wandering back. It was the agent who finally broke unspoken standoff.
“How do your clients find you?”
I started in my seat, his words jerking me out of my little fantasy world. “I have a middle man. He makes the initial contact, checks out the particulars and then sends them onto me.”
“Does this middle man have a name?”
I traced a sun on the fogged window beside me. “Charlie.”
“Just Charlie?” O’Shea frowned, dark brows creasing downward. “You don’t always charge the clients. So how do you pay the middle man, exactly?”
Okay, honesty being the best policy and all that shit . . . “I don’t.”
“What?”
I so did not want to explain, but we were too far away from ‘Bottoms Up’ to stall long enough to get out of this conversation. “My middle man wants to help. So he does. Whatever pay I make, he gets a small cut. If I chose not to charge, then he makes nothing. He’s fine with that.”
Immune: A Sexy Urban Fantasy Mystery (Rylee Adamson # 2) Page 4