by Moira Rogers
She continued to pace, taking care to keep an eye on Merrick. If she’d ever been half as invested in shady business financing as her former boss… “I probably wouldn’t need his fucking money,” she muttered.
Damn her for being mostly honest, anyway.
A frustrated kick sent rocks skittering and dirt flying. As the dust settled, a strange, dark lump half hidden behind a boulder drew Paralee’s gaze. She stepped closer and realized it was dead badger, its fur torn and bloodied. A fresh kill, and it turned her stomach.
Something’s wrong.
She stared at the badger, trying to suss it out, but it wasn’t until she heard a scraping sound behind her that the pieces clicked into place. A fresh kill, but none like she’d ever seen. Half-eaten, but not by an animal.
Not quite.
She’d just closed her hand around the hilt of her knife when the ghoul lunged at her. The creature had been a man once, tall and broad. His clothing hung on an emaciated frame, and his attack was clumsy and uncoordinated, but fast.
He hit her with the speed of desperation, shoving her against an outcropping of rock hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Paralee gasped for breath and drove the heel of her hand up, striking the ghoul in the temple.
Merrick’s voice rose from the valley as the ghoul stumbled back. It shook off the blow to the head and lunged at her again, slower this time. She jumped out of the way and used the ghoul’s momentum to slam him forward into the boulder.
He whirled dizzily, and a quick kick swept his legs from under him. He dropped and Paralee followed him down, wedging her knee under his chin. He clawed at her face with dirty hands, scratched her cheek, so she rocked up as she drew her knife, levering her weight onto his neck. The blade glinted as she raised it, and one hard plunge into his heart left him still.
It should have taken Merrick several minutes to scale the side of the hill, but he appeared a few seconds later, eyes glazed and wide. He moved in a blur, with two long strides and an inhuman leap that took him to the top of the boulder above her. “Are you hurt?”
She staggered away from the corpse, her hands shaking, and shook her head. “No, I’m all right.”
His nostrils flared. Another leap brought him right in front of her, and he cupped her face with both hands. “You’re bleeding.”
“He scratched me.” She touched her cheek, and her fingers came away smeared with blood. “I think you were right.”
Still wild-eyed, he dragged her toward where she’d dropped the packs. “Right about what, love?”
“There are certainly ghouls in this area.” It had sounded better in her head, not nearly as shrill and hysterical.
He barked out a laugh and bent to pick up the canteen. “There sure as fuck are, sweet girl. You stabbed one right through the damn heart, and after I went to all that trouble running up the hill to rescue you.”
He was insane, but maybe so was she. “Don’t tell me that counts as flirting with you too.”
“Maybe a little.” He eyed her cheek, eyes softening. “Let’s clean that up. I know it’s just a scratch, but ghouls have all manner of terrifying shit under their fingernails.”
“Badger.” That sounded even more ridiculous, and she burst out laughing. The world swam in a dizzy haze, so she clung to Merrick’s shirt and tried to take deep breaths.
He wrapped strong arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Take a moment, Paralee. You’ve had a hell of a day.”
And it had only just begun.
Chapter Three
He was back in familiar territory.
Geographically.
Merrick took a long sip from his canteen before bending to refill it. He knew where they were, and where they were headed. They had an hour before sunset to hunt game and hopefully get something warm in their bellies. Even at an easy pace, they could make the Guild safehouse by late afternoon tomorrow.
He had until then before the new moon closed in around him. Until he went mad.
Paralee grumbled as she knelt by the fire pit. She’d let her hair down from its plait, and she pushed the wavy tresses back from her face as she struck her flint again. “Damn waterfall. Everything in here is wet and—” Her words cut off in a triumphant cry as flame licked free of the kindling and took hold of the larger sticks stacked over it. “Hand me the spider and the kettle, would you? I have a surprise.”
Though bemused, he rose to obey. She looked softer with her brown hair framing her face. Pretty, almost sweet, for all her sharp edges. “A surprise, hmm?”
She pulled a paper-wrapped parcel out of her bag. “A lady in Chicago puts them together for me. It’s a dried stew, spices and all. Didn’t have time to prepare one last night, but right now seems just about perfect.”
He situated the kettle over the fire and eyed the package. “So that’s what you were after when you went digging through the boxes. How much did they set you back?”
“You don’t want to know.” With a smile, she dumped the contents into the kettle and held out her hand for his canteen. “But I will say it’s worth every penny.”
It would probably be easier than hunting, and more soothing to his nerves. Even with the sun overhead, he wasn’t eager to leave Paralee alone again. Not because she couldn’t handle herself against a ghoul—he wasn’t sure he would have been able to kill one much quicker than she had, and without the benefit of a bloodhound’s speed and strength—but because he didn’t want to leave her side.
Not because she was his mate, but because she was damn good company. Smart, sassy, fucking gorgeous company.
Her cheeks turned pink as she stirred the stew and then peeled off her sweater. “I can tell we’ve moved south and lower in elevation. It’s a lot warmer, isn’t it?”
Whatever she was wearing under the sweater didn’t deserve to be called clothing—or maybe women’s clothing should be redefined to encompass only this damn garment. Smooth white fabric with lacy edges that left her arms bare and showed off one damn fine pair of tits, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away. “Damn warm,” he rasped.
“Stop,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. “When you look at me like that…”
“Like you’re beautiful?” He forced his gaze to her eyes. “Not sure I can change that.”
“More like…” Her fingers twined with his. “Like you’re dying of thirst and can’t wait to drink me up.”
The innocent touch set off a blaze of heat. Hunger, not thirst, though he could easily enough imagine her wet and open to him. He’d take his time drinking her in, tease until she couldn’t stand another stroke of his tongue, until those sleek thighs trembled and she screamed his name loud enough to echo through the mountains.
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “I’m dying of thirst, sweet girl, but I won’t drink anything you don’t offer.”
“I’m disrobing, Merrick,” Paralee reminded him softly. “But you’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? That I want you to touch me.”
“I’m going to make you say it,” he agreed, voice scraping out of his suddenly dry throat. “Over and over, so I know I’m not taking anything you don’t want me to have.”
“I want you to touch me.” She stepped closer, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. “And I want to touch you too. Kiss you again. I want to know—” Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and she looked away.
Every pounding beat of her heart echoed in his ears, the very speed exciting his predatory instincts. He fought to move slowly, but his hand was clumsy and rough when he cupped her chin and turned her to face him. “What do you want to know?”
Her dark eyes met his, her gaze a perfect, challenging match to the stubborn tilt of her chin. “I’d rather have you now. I’d rather know you want me, that it isn’t about needing a warm body for the new moon.”
The challenge heated his blood. No bloodhound could ignore such a look, not even one who’d been around since the founding of the damn Guild. He
swept her up in one arm and backed her against the cave wall, then penned her in with both hands on either side of her head. “You want to know if I want you?”
She didn’t look away or back down. “Do you?”
“Find out,” he rumbled, holding her gaze. “Touch me. I want your clever fingers around my cock.”
She skimmed her fingertips down his chest. Instead of touching him through his pants, she started to undo them. “Were you thinking of this last night when you kissed me?” she asked as she eased her hand inside and stroked his erection, gentle and questing.
It was hard to think past the feel of her hand wrapped around his shaft. “I’ve been thinking of some variation on this since I woke up with you riding my hips.”
“I was trying to keep you alive, not grope you.” Her voice had gone hoarse, and she swayed toward him as she closed her fist around him and squeezed. Hard.
Merrick shuddered. This was no delicate, nervous touch from a virgin who wasn’t sure how to handle a man. She gripped him the way he liked, rough and firm, and he growled and thrust against her hand.
Paralee whimpered and jerked her hand free of his clothes only to frantically pull at the buttons on his shirt. “Now, Merrick. I don’t have the patience to wait long.”
“That’s a pity.” He caught her hands and brought her wrists together above her head. They were delicate enough to grip in one hand, which left the other free to explore the lush contours of her breasts through that sinful scrap of lace. “Patience has its rewards.”
She closed her eyes and arched into his touch. “With you, I imagine it does.”
Keeping her from touching him was his only hope at control, but he fought to hide that truth. Instead he settled on a lazy, slow exploration, teasing her nipples through fabric before inching a hand under the hem to spread his fingers wide across her belly. “Up or down?”
Her husky laugh shivered up his spine. “Up,” she murmured. “Consider me intrigued by those potential rewards.”
He took her mouth and took his time, licking past her lips to stroke her tongue. Her skin was soft under his fingertips, silky and warm, and he smoothed his thumb up to flick over her nipple.
She drew in a sharp breath and tried his grip on her wrists. Not so hard as to be an attempt at escape, so he bit her lower lip and repeated the caress. “Rethinking your patience?”
“No.” She twisted, brushing her nipple against his thumb again. “Just testing yours a little, that’s all.”
The simple act of laying hands on her had given him an endless supply. He could tease out her secrets for hours, days, stroke every inch of her until he’d learned all the shortcuts to quick pleasure and all the slow paths that led to a greater reward. He’d learn her like he’d learned the mountains, live by her moods and thrive on what she gave him in return.
But that wouldn’t answer the question that had started this, her need to believe his desire was more than instinct and the looming new moon. He had to bend a little. Show her what she expected in a man, because she couldn’t understand the needs of a mated hound, that his own urgency faded under the promise of feasting on her pleasure.
Impatience. Hunger too insistent to be denied. He had that inside him too, so he gave in to it. Palmed her breast and seized her mouth in an open, wet kiss that would answer any lingering doubts about patience or how much time she had left before he got his fingers between her thighs.
Paralee melted with a startled moan, then freed her hands and clutched at his shoulders. She rubbed her thigh against his hip before lifting herself higher and wrapping her legs around his.
Finally. He gripped her thighs and pressed her back against the rock, promising himself he wouldn’t grind her into the uneven surface. Not for long. Just to enjoy those strong legs around his hips and her breasts crushed against his chest. Tearing his mouth from hers, he closed it on her throat, licking her pulse with a growl. “Impatient enough?”
She gasped and shook but pushed at his shoulders. “Don’t fuck me to prove a point.”
He almost groaned. “Are your wits addled, woman? I may be struggling with how and how fast, but the only point I prove by fucking you is how goddamned badly I want to.”
“Do you want me?” she asked quietly, a frown creasing her brow. “Or do you want your mate?”
She might as well ask him if he wanted water or melted ice. “You couldn’t be my mate if I didn’t want you.”
“Says who? All I know is that you might have been ogling my ass, but you didn’t say two words to me before we crashed.”
Merrick frowned as tangled memories surfaced, more feelings than images. Watching her, wanting her. Respecting her. A draw both physical and mental, an attraction that must have twisted in a moment of blind protectiveness when death seemed near. “You can learn a lot about someone simply by watching, Paralee. It’s what I do. I’m a damned bloodhound spy.”
Paralee studied his face. “And what did you plan to do with all that knowledge, Merrick? If we’d reached Chicago as planned, would you ever have even thought of me again?”
For the life of him, he couldn’t remember—but he knew what his thoughts had likely been. “I would have turned around and hired you out from under the owner of that airship.”
She stared at him for a second, then laughed. “You’re insane. A crazy man.”
“I believe in destiny,” he countered, hoisting her higher as he turned away from the cave wall. With her slight weight and his bloodhound strength, holding her up was effortless. “I nearly died in these mountains. Ripped apart by a grizzly, with infection setting in. If it hadn’t happened, I never would have become a bloodhound.”
Her hands tightened on his shoulder and the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. That must have been horrible.”
He sank to the floor, careful to arrange her in his lap with her legs still wrapped around his waist. It was a nice position, easy to stroke her back and nuzzle her throat, even as he replied. “The Guild made an exception. Before me, they made bloodhounds from experienced soldiers. Volunteers in the best of health. I changed it all.”
“So they saved your life.”
“In a manner of speaking.” Bitterness would creep into his voice if he wasn’t careful, revealing more than she should know. “They saved my life in exchange for owning it. A fair trade, most would say, when it’s more than I would have had.”
“I wouldn’t say so.” Paralee stroked his jaw. “You may work for them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t own you. You could leave.”
“Bloodhounds don’t retire, love.” A warning for her as much as himself. “None of us have died of old age yet. I suppose we have a few more decades before we’ll know if it’ll happen at all, but not many last long enough to find out.”
She leaned in and pressed her cheek to his. “You could say the same of pilots. We don’t tend to go wrinkled and gray, that’s for sure.”
“Not when you’re flying over the Deadlands, I suppose.” He kissed her ear. “So why do you do it?”
“Money?” She laughed. “Freedom, I think. The whole, wide blue sky is mine.”
“I understand that.” Nothing had ever felt so peaceful as nuzzling his nose against her throat, her unbound hair tickling his face. “I may not care for everything the Guild has given me, but I’ve been free in more ways than most men.”
Paralee quieted, then combed her fingers through his hair. “You still don’t remember me, do you? Before the crash.”
“Bits and pieces.” He closed his eyes and leaned in to her touch. “I remember you playing dice with the crew. Thinking I would have to break a man’s hand for grabbing your ass, and watching you break his finger all on your own. And you fighting with Lucius over…something or other. He was a dangerous, rough man, but you weren’t scared of him.”
“Lucius got his way by bullying people. If you stood up to him, he’d usually give in.” She drew in a shaky breath. “It wasn’t my usual crew, but they were good men—even the grabby on
es. And now they’re gone.”
The urge to take melted into the need to soothe and pet. He stroked her back and tangled his fingers in her unfettered hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“No. I was the one at the helm.” Her lips brushed his ear. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“You were shot down by bloodsuckers. The only reason you’re alive at all is—”
The memory crashed into him. Panic. Fire. Men scrambling across the deck as ropes snapped, tilting the airship so sharply that one sailor pitched over the side with a scream that went on forever.
Paralee murmured something and smoothed her fingers over his brow. “You pulled me from the wheel when we started to list. Wrapped your arms around me and told me to hang on to you and not let go.”
“That’s how it happens sometimes.” His voice sounded hoarse, distant, even to his own ears. “The mating, I mean. There’s usually a powerful lust there already, but the need to protect can trigger it.”
“Then I guess that’s when it happened.” She fell silent, then laughed softly. “I thought it meant you’d be humping me constantly. If anything, I’ve been the aggressive one.”
“That’ll change soon enough, love.” Tomorrow, by sunset, he’d fall on her like a madman unless she seemed utterly uninterested.
“The new moon.” She eased back and met his gaze squarely. “I’m not frightened, Merrick. If you’re worrying about that, you can rest easy.”
It eased part of his worry, but not all of it. “Not frightened is a far cry from eager.”
She released him, and her belt clicked as she unbuckled it. “You can rest easy about that too.”
Maybe lust hadn’t retreated as far as he’d thought, not when he needed no encouragement to slide his fingers around her body and tug at the buttons on her pants. “Are you going to let me feel how eager?”
“Yes.” Paralee kissed his jaw and the corner of his mouth, then pulled her camisole up over her head. “Touch me.”