He made sweeping motions in her mouth, her tongue equally as seasoned. It teased him, darting away and then tempting him with another swipe.
He growled, teetering on the edge of pressing Carri to the wall and tearing her clothing from her body. He wanted to sample every inch of her. To explore her with his lips, tongue, hands and cock.
Damn, the woman tasted like sweet goodness with a side of spice.
Someone moaned. Quinn wasn’t sure which of them had done it and he didn’t care. All that concerned him was wringing even more pleasure from Carri. Now that he’d found what he wasn’t even aware he’d been looking for, he had no intention of letting it go. The time for explanations would have to come later. Now, he needed to reassure himself his mate was not only well but his and his alone.
Carri tipped her head, allowing Quinn to deepen their kiss. So much had happened that she’d never expected or planned on. She didn’t count on being attacked by fiends. She didn’t count on being rescued and she sure in the hell didn’t count on the animalistic attraction she felt for Quinn.
Kissing men she’d only just met wasn’t a habit of hers. Besides, she had someone special in her life. Someone who wouldn’t appreciate her locking lips with anyone—even if the guy was famous. That being said, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She didn’t even want to. He tasted like salt, like earth, like untainted sin. Arching to him, she bit at his lower lip, eliciting a low groan from him. He smiled against her mouth and she continued, knowing she was pleasing him.
She managed to wiggle free and stand on her own two feet. His hands splayed over her hips and their lips remained locked. There were too many reasons to count as to why she should stop but none mattered.
“Mmm,” he murmured against her mouth. “We should stop. You need to be looked at by a doctor.”
Something struck Carri from the side. Her scream came too late to warn Quinn of danger. “Quinn!”
Black shadows moved in all around Quinn so quickly that he had no time to prepare himself. A tooth-shattering electrical current coursed through him as something hard was jabbed into his side. He cried out, his only concern the woman who was on the ground before him.
His vision hazed and he knew whatever was happening to him was something even his werewolf heritage couldn’t protect him from. It was serious, and it had the upper hand. Carri’s screams, carrying his name with them, were the last thing he heard before darkness moved over him like black clouds on a stormy day.
Chapter Two
Two years later
Carri entered the overcrowded warehouse and pushed her way through the swell of bodies. Each person seemed pumped, all eyes on the cage in the center. Spotlights shone upon it and people shouted so many things it was hard to make them all out. A black skull flag flapped in the breeze that was created by oversized fans suspended from rafters in the ceiling. The thing was well worn and fit the grunge-like atmosphere of the warehouse.
Another woman bumped into her and Carri caught the woman’s wrist gently. “What’s going on here?”
The woman chomped on her gum, her lips shiny with blood red lipstick. She reeked of cheap perfume with a heavy mix of cigar smoke. “It’s a deathmatch.”
“What’s a deathmatch?”
The woman twirled the end of her hair absently. “It’s what it says it is,” she stated. “A match to the death. You gotta kill the other guy in order to be allowed to live. Pretty gnarly, huh?”
“A fight to the what?” Carri questioned, positive she’d heard the woman wrong. There was no way Jason was mixed up with something as barbaric as a deathmatch.
Use your head, she chastised herself. Her gaze returned to the black flag with a white skull on it. As it flapped, she noticed something else. It was splattered with crimson. Her stomach tightened when she realized it must be blood. The evidence is all around you.
“It’s a big fight too,” the woman added, leaning in, her breasts nearly spilling out of the spandex dress she wore. “The champ against the new up-and-comer. Should be gruesome.” The glee in her eyes sickened Carri.
When she’d come looking for her fiancé, she never dreamed she’d stumble upon something like this. She wasn’t naïve. She knew certain things went on in the world around her. Things Jason tried to shield her from. But this—this was something different.
The lights dimmed over the crowd and intensified on the cage. Two men were led out, each in chains. Confused, Carri stood silently, watching the events unfold. Classic rock pumped through the sound system. It seemed fitting. The march of the men being paraded towards the cage did seem a lot like a highway running straight to hell.
The bald man entering from the left of the cage growled, sounding more animal than human. He sneered at the people shouting his name, seeming hyped by the attention and detestation. Whoever he was, they didn’t seem to like him much.
Carri glanced towards the man approaching from the right. Her breath caught. Every ounce of him was pure unadulterated male. A tingle started in her inner thighs and crept up slowly, centering at her very core. The warehouse suddenly seemed hotter than it had been only moments before. She tugged at the fitted shirt she wore, a light sheen of sweat trickling between her breasts.
The man moved his head in a fashion that left his shoulder-length dark hair flipping out of his face. For one moment, Carri could do nothing more than stare in shock.
Quinn?
The last time she’d seen him had been in a darkened alley some two years prior. Her attempts to find him after her release from the hospital had proved fruitless. Now, here he was, being led to a caged ring…in chains?
Fear slammed through her as the guards shut Quinn in the cage with the bald man. They unshackled both men and she watched as Quinn rubbed at his wrists, his blue gaze secured firmly on his opponent. She wanted to call out to him, to let him know she was there and that she’d do whatever it took to get him away from all of this, but she knew better. Distracting him could cost him his life.
Quinn twisted, remaining crouched as he watched his opponent through the eyes of a predator. He knew the score and what was at stake. Kill or be killed. The high octagon steel cage that enclosed them was charged with enough electricity to cause damage to anything, including supernaturals. It was designed to keep them in and the onlookers out of harm’s way. The gawkers. The high-society humans who wanted the thrill of living on the edge of danger yet the knowledge and assurance they were safe from the beasts before them.
The underground circle of fights was big business for the organizers and promoters. The police were supposed to care what happened to supernaturals. Some did. Most didn’t. The deathmatches were a way to cut down on the population of paranormal creatures that lived among them.
Taking out the trash.
A low rumble of a growl emanated from Quinn as the words that had once been spoken over his dead mother’s body resonated in his head. He clenched his fists, no longer seeing his opponent before him but rather the cop who had made that callous statement twenty-five years prior. He pictured the scene with accuracy as if it had happened only yesterday. He remembered the feeling of helplessness, the desire to strike out but he’d lacked the size and skill to actually do so.
Not now. No, now he was capable of playing out his rage and he harnessed it.
“I’ll show you trash.” Quinn shot forward, seized hold of the man’s neck and snapped it with ease. As the dramatic letdown coming from the crowd around him penetrated his ears, Quinn’s vision cleared. He pushed memories of the cop from his head as he tossed the dead body far from him. It landed on the canvas mat, covering the perversely cheerful logo of the current vendor who supported the match.
Sweeping an agitated gaze over the gathered crowd, Quinn barely heard their negative remarks.
“Bullshit!” one yelled.
“That wasn’t a fight.”
“Beat him.”
The shouts continued. They’d come for a show. To see the once Extreme Fighting Champion
in a fight to the death with their latest up-and-comer. To witness two animals going at it, ripping each other apart to win the chance to live. Savagery had been ordered and the bill had come due. What they’d received was a three-minute match that was over before it truly began.
The stirrings of a riot continued and Quinn knew he’d pay dearly for not giving the show expected of him. The men he fought weren’t good men. They were the criminals, the immoral and the undesirables from the supernatural community—just like him. Though, at one point in his life, he’d thought of himself as a decent guy.
No more.
The buzzer sounded and Quinn backed up, hoping they’d turned off the electric current in the fence. His keepers had been known to leave it on just to screw with him. They gained perverse pleasure from his pain.
He put his hands behind him, his palms facing out, ready for his wrists to be shackled once more. One of the guards reached through the opening and clasped a set of silver manacles on his wrists. While they still stung slightly, they’d long since scarred his wrists to the point the pain no longer brought him to his knees. His kind had an allergy to silver and his captors knew as much.
“Assholes,” he mumbled under his breath.
Deep-set rage roused him. He looked over the crowd once more, hate shining in his eyes. The humans continued to curse him and throw items at the cage because he hadn’t lived up to what he was—an animal. A liquid of some sort splashed through the cage bars and landed on his lower mouth and cheek. It was sickeningly sweet.
Soda.
Anger coalesced within him. He flexed his fingers, his hands still bound behind him. His gaze slipped over the crowd, tracking the path the liquid had come from. When he spotted the thin, weasel-looking human male who had clearly been the culprit, Quinn smiled, showing teeth. The look was deadly. “You should run now,” he said evenly, but at a volume level the human could hear.
One of the guards banged the cage. “Shut the fuck up, animal.”
The human in the crowd gulped and bolted into the mass of people.
Amused, Quinn licked his lower lip, the taste of the soda still there. He spit to the side, catching a guard.
“Oops.” He shrugged, unapologetically.
The guard’s expression grew menacing and Quinn suppressed a chuckle. If the asshole wanted to go a round, Quinn was more than up for it. Of course, the guards never fought fairly. They relied on shocking him, ganging up on him and beating him into submission with silver chains. They were cowards and he lived for the day he could exact his revenge upon them.
He spit again, doing his best to score another hit to the guard, already knowing nothing would come of it. The crowd’s enthusiasm was falling fast. The guards had bigger things to worry about at the moment than him spitting on them.
He was a huge draw for the crowds. His fights were always standing room only because of just how much they enjoyed coming to see him be the savage he truly was.
The wolf within him caught the scent of something familiar. He sniffed the air, zoning past the stench of death, of sweat, of humans and zeroed in on the source of the disruption to his senses.
A woman. Not just any woman.
He knew that scent.
“Carri?”
As if on cue, there she was. Her chocolate eyes were wide and she looked pale, almost sickened by the events unfolding around her. Long, dark brown wisps of hair framed her heart-shaped face, bringing attention to her full lips.
Lips that trembled as she met his gaze.
His heart raced. “No.”
It couldn’t be.
She was dead.
Quinn looked harder at the woman, inhaling deeper. There was no denying it. She was the same woman he’d sensed two years prior. She was Carri. The one he’d run to, trying to save only to find himself at the hands of madmen. The very woman he’d sampled paradise with, her kiss divine. A piece of him had died that day. He’d assumed she was gone, her body rejecting the healing agents in his saliva and blood. That’s what his captors had told him. They’d taunted him again and again, reminding him that his attempt at being a humanitarian had fallen flat—leaving a woman to suffer a horrible death at the hospital. When he’d learned of her passing, Quinn stopped planning an escape and resigned himself to his fate. Having her with him, in the warehouse, alive and well rekindled his quest for freedom, for her.
The rush of lust left him wishing he had a free hand to adjust himself. His cock throbbed. No other woman had ever made his body answer so quickly, so intensely with nothing more than a stare. It was as if everyone but her ceased to exist for a fraction of a second. His heart thumped madly, his sinewy body eager to be free of his restraints in order to go to her.
The beauty amongst the enemy.
The light in the darkness.
He blinked, coming to his senses. The angry mob around her, pressed in, knocking Carri to and fro before she disappeared under the sea of people. His body responded violently, hardening, going prone, ready for another fight.
“No!” he roared with the need to protect her at all costs. He’d thought her dead and for twenty-four of the longest months of his life, he’d run the scenario of that night, long ago, through his head. Always wondering what would have happened had he been a few minutes earlier or if he’d have paid attention to his surroundings instead of getting lost in her kisses. Would she have lived? Would they have had the happily ever after so many people preached about?
When he’d awoken to find himself shackled, he had been taunted about her passing. They’d accused him of allowing her to die. Lies. All lies.
She’s here and I’ll be dammed if I let her go again.
Surging forward, Quinn charged the guard as he opened the cage door. He bent his head, going low, using his shoulder to attack the man. The guard fell away and others shouted. All he heard was the soft cry of the female who had captured his attention so long ago and never released it. She was hurt. He could almost feel her pain.
Mindlessly, Quinn yanked his arms, breaking the shackles and freeing his hands. The silver cuffs remained on his wrists. Links of the broken chain dangled, striking his forearms, burning the skin upon contact.
Another guard came at him, carrying an electric prod. Quinn flashed a gleaming white smile at the man, already knowing he looked every bit the animal he was capable of being. He let his eyes flicker to that of the wolf’s icy blue. The guard stopped dead in his tracks before making a hasty retreat.
“That’s right, buddy. Run.”
Quinn knew others would come. They always did. On borrowed time, he charged forth, thrusting people away as he made a line through the now hysterical crowd, pushing in search of Carri.
His entire body responded to the scent of her and he knew he was close. She was the same, yet different. If he didn’t know better, Quinn would have said she still held the faintest hint of his scent upon her. He’d shared his blood with her so long ago that it shouldn’t be the case now. He shoved the last remaining human from his path, revealing the woman to him. His gut clenched. She was bloody and broken, as she’d been two years prior. A deafening sound ripped free of him and he bent to scoop her up only to find himself struck from behind. Electricity surged through him, bringing pain with it. His fingers and toes curled as streaking hot, tingling numbness filled him. His jaw set, his teeth grinding.
He just missed picking her up and fell to a knee before her. He used his body as a shield, keeping her from further harm as he was once again struck with an electric prod. His body was so close to hers yet not touching, preventing the current from passing through him to her. The guards spat hate-filled remarks at him. For once, he felt like everything they accused him of being.
An animal. A monster.
The raw need to protect the female below him was all consuming. His mind and body agreed on one vital thing.
She was not to be harmed.
An efflux of strength and resolve pushed through him and he struck out blindly, knocking away two atta
ckers with one blow. Still, the onslaught continued. Admitting defeat wasn’t a possibility. He’d been under the thumb of his keepers for almost two years. He knew how they operated, what they did to assure compliance on the part of the animals they housed. They would use Carri against him. They would threaten her to keep him in line and in the end, they would kill her to teach him a lesson.
“Get him!” one yelled.
Quinn’s lips curled into a smile. Fangs showed and he permitted a partial change, knowing his eyes would burn with the wolf. Another jolt of electricity passed through him, this time seeming to invigorate him more than anything.
He spun, lashing out wildly, scoring a direct hit. He caught hold of one of the prods and the victim became the wielder of the weapon. He struck one of the guards, returning the favor. The guard was human and the energy too much for him to handle. Guilt never entered Quinn’s mind even as the scent of charred flesh reached him. He knew they would hurt or possibly kill the woman he fought to protect.
Someone whistled, catching his attention. He twisted to find a guard standing above Carri, aiming a weapon at her head. Quinn was fast but he wasn’t fast enough to be able to stop the guard should he choose to end the woman’s life.
He put his hands up, stopping his attack almost instantly. He dropped to his knees, signaling surrender.
The guards converged on him, striking with everything they had. A sick thought occurred to him as he struggled to stay conscious.
It’s always a woman who brings me to my knees.
Chapter Three
Carri stiffened at the sound of men talking. The blackness around her began to ebb away.
“Bringing her in here,” an unfamiliar voice said, “so close to the animal, will set Mickens off. He’s made a point to keep her ignorant of this. He’ll have our jobs and our heads if we’re not careful.”
Another man responded. “What do you want me to do? Every time I tried moving her away from the thing, her vitals crashed. It wasn’t until I wheeled her in here, in closer proximity to him that she stabilized.”
Going the Distance Page 2