by Anna Abner
“I know,” she agreed, bobbing her blonde head. “Nothing short of decapitation.”
“That’s right.” He hurried into the bedroom to gather the medical supplies.
Roz’s casting began to wane under the stress, and she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself.
“You okay?” Lukas’ deep growl of a voice was at her ear.
She nodded, unable to cease the spell, but just his nearness and support gave her the strength to rally her power and continue.
“I finished off the vamps and buried them,” he whispered. “You don’t have to worry.”
Her hand reached for him, and without looking, she clasped his fingers in thanks.
Knocking even more stuff onto the floor, Connor started an IV and squeezed the first bag of donor blood into Volk’s arm. The second, he let hang from the pot rack to drip. The blood and Roz’s magic appeared to be doing the trick. Maks stopped spitting blood, anyway.
Connor enveloped Ali in an embrace. “Shh,” he soothed. “He’s going to be fine.”
“I can’t believe I’m crying over Maksim Volk,” Ali said in a muffled voice. “He killed my cousin and countless others in cold blood. He’s the worst kind of human being.”
“Yes,” Connor agreed, “but he also loved your mother, protected you, and came to us for help. It’s natural to feel sympathy for him after watching him almost murdered in front of your eyes.”
Connor was right. Witnessing an attempted murder was a helluva thing. It brought up messy memories of finding Connor nearly dead behind a strip mall. Of Oleksander and his fiends nearly tearing Connor to shreds. She attempted to shake the images away, but they refused to leave. So, she leaned against the counter and tried to breathe.
“Ali,” Connor said gently from somewhere over Roz’s head. “I want to keep a lookout on the road in case we receive any more surprise visitors.”
“And the vehicles,” Lukas told him. “Dump them before a sheriff’s helicopter spots them.”
“You want to give me a hand with that?” Connor asked.
“Yeah.” Lukas knelt in front of her. “You okay if I go for a while?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Get out of here.”
“Sorry,” Julia panted, hurrying into the kitchen and washing her hands in the sink. “I’m here. I just didn’t expect…” The doctor took one look at Volk and swore. “Oh, scheisse. I hate this fucker.”
Ali sniffed away tears. “He came here for help.”
“He attacked me,” Julia reminded them.
“Please,” Ali said. “For me. Just fix him so he’ll survive this.”
Julia’s annoyed gaze swept the room, finally landing upon her newest patient. “You’re gonna owe me so big…”
Chapter Fifteen
Lukas kicked dirt over a puddle of blood in the yard, obscuring it with sand, and then hopped in the first vehicle, easing it onto the road before picking up speed. He’d been all over these hills and valleys, and he knew several out-of-the-way places. At the lip of a deep gully, he sped over the edge and nose-dived the vehicle into the sandy bottom.
Unhurt, but a little dusty, he climbed out of the gorge and waited for Connor to do the same to his car.
“It’s gonna be a long walk to the cabin,” Connor said, squinting into the distance.
“Not if you can run,” Lukas said. It was an obvious challenge, but he wasn’t sure yet whether he liked Connor. He tolerated him, mostly for Roz’s sake, but also because he hunted vampires. But the revelation that he himself was infected changed things. Lukas didn’t want to trust him. He really wanted to hate him, but then Connor did something cool. Something funny. Something human.
“Think you can keep up?” Connor teased.
Lukas smirked. “Maybe you didn’t realize a bear runs twice as fast as a man.”
Connor assessed Lukas with keen eyes. “But for how long?” He took off then, without warning, sprinting west at speeds not natural in human beings.
The bear in Lukas reared up, fighting to be free. Leaving his sneakers and clothes behind, he shifted and charged headlong across the desert, his four legs pumping as fast as they could. He easily overtook Connor, huffing happily as he surged into the lead, and tried to keep as much distance as possible between him and the vampire because Connor was right. Lukas could run faster than a man, but only for short bursts.
After 500 yards, his chest burned. After 1,000, the muscles in his legs screamed. Finally, at 1,500 yards, he slowed to a gentler stride, panting and shaking his head. He enjoyed the freedom of being firmly in first place for a few minutes, the arid air hot in his snout, his paws raking the warm sand.
Connor zipped past him on the next hill, and though Lukas suspected the vampire could leave him far behind, he adjusted his pace with Lukas’ rather than run ahead. Even loping along, Lukas was faster than humans. It reminded him that Connor wasn’t human anymore. Strangely, the companionship was comforting.
Lukas would have guessed joining up with other people would make him skittish and a little annoyed after so long alone. But it wasn’t like that. After running the desert solo, he enjoyed sharing some of the burden with hunters like Connor, Ali, and Roz.
At the house, Connor entered first, but Lukas took a circuitous route and shifted, naked and covered in sweat, into his human form near the back door. He let himself in through the kitchen, forgetting the bloody and half-dead vampire laid out there. Lukas walked in on Ali and Roz hovering worriedly over their unconscious guest.
Lukas stood naked as the day he was born, the breeze from the closing door tickling his upper thighs, and made eye contact with Roz. She’d already stolen a look, she must have, because her cheeks glowed bright pink.
That’s why he liked her. Roz was tough, but underneath hid a vulnerable young woman. The dichotomy fascinated him.
Roz’s gaze stalled on the patch of dark hair between his legs. His balls tightened as his cock twitched. Fuck.
“I’ll take a shower,” he blurted out and dashed into the hallway before he really embarrassed himself.
He heard the girls whispering rapidly as he found the home’s one bathroom. He locked the door and hardly saw the masculine, woodsy decor—dark walls, bronze-colored fixtures, and a course-woven rug on the tile floor. He couldn’t shake the image of Roz’s face from his thoughts. He ran the hot tap and stepped in, the water splashing over his skin.
He was always extra sensitive after a shift. All he had to do was gently cup himself between his legs and he hardened, his cock thickening behind his palm. He pictured Roz’s pink cheeks and stroked his length, squeezing the tip.
The shockingly strong reaction had his thighs clenching. Lukas supported himself on the cold shower tiles with one hand, hung his head, and stroked himself as warm steam curled all around him. In his mind, he pictured Roz and remembered his threat to bend her over and take her from behind.
Lukas groaned as he imagined doing exactly that. Her body ripe and firm under his hands, he saw himself tear her flimsy clothing away and bury himself inside her hot little twat. In his ears, he heard her scream out his name, pleasure rippling off her. He pumped his fist faster, his hips bucking like a nervous teenager’s.
All night away from her, he’d suffered with a stiff cock. Something about the witch had gotten under his skin and set it on fire. If it was a spell, he didn’t mind it.
Lukas came in a hot jet, the orgasm pouring out of him, but it did not leave him satisfied. If anything, he was even hungrier for the real thing. Languidly, he finished his shower.
Fifteen minutes later, still damp but no longer smelling of bear, he discovered Roz alone in the kitchen.
“Hey,” he greeted, picturing her as she’d been in his fantasy. Hot, wet, and willing.
She noticed him, but was more concerned with the bloody vampire on the butcher-block island.
“Hey,” she replied.
“Who is this guy?” Lukas asked. Pinching the vampire’s chin, Lukas turned his face one
way and then the other. “He’s just a kid.”
“He’s not a kid,” Roz said, swatting his hands away. “He has a seventeen-year-old’s body, but he’s at least forty.”
“No shit.” The kid was skinny and rangy, like he wasn’t quite finished growing. He had only sparse chest hair, and his face remained peachy pretty around the edges. This was no middle-aged man.
Roz added, “He’s sort of Ali’s father.”
“How does that work?” Lukas asked, aghast. “I thought vampires couldn’t reproduce.” The two couldn’t be more different. Where Volk was darkness and shadow, Ali was all light and sunshine.
“They can’t,” Roz said. “But he infected her mother when she was pregnant with Ali. His blood mixed with hers, and Ali was born…let’s just say…different.”
Ah. Lukas was the last person to criticize someone else’s family situation. After his biological father split for good, he’d been raised for most of his life by a kind and bookish professor. He’d loved his stepfather as much as any ‘real’ dad.
“So, that’s why we’re not killing him.”
“That’s why.” She gathered a clean washcloth, moistened it at the sink, and gently swiped it under Volk’s chin and down along his collarbone. The dried blood mixed with water and the dirt coating his body to form a thick glaze. Roz rinsed the cloth and cleansed his cheek.
“But he’s the leader of the horde,” Lukas remembered. “Isn’t he?”
“Look at him,” Roz said quietly, gazing at the boy’s pale face. “He’s not leading anyone. He’s been abused.”
Strange, only days earlier he’d believed each and every infected person deserved death. No trial. No appeal. No rehabilitation. But then he’d met Connor. And here was a vampire who’d tried to be a father to a human child and been tortured along the way.
Knulla, sometimes seeing the world in black and white was a lot simpler.
Lukas grumbled under his breath. “Fine.” He gathered his own washcloth and started at Volk’s bare, nearly black feet.
“I’m usually the first aid go-to girl,” Roz explained, moving her cloth down Volk’s narrow chest and removing about an inch of grime. “But this is beyond my skills. The doc will take over soon. She’s talking options with Ali and Connor right now.”
“Does that mean,” Lukas said, feeling playful despite scrubbing a vampire’s feet, “if I had an injury you could tend it?”
“I fixed your curse, didn’t I?”
Lukas smirked, thinking of a different kind of ailment. “If I were painfully swollen,” he continued, waiting for her to catch on, “you could make it all better?”
She started to say something, and then a flash of realization crept across her pretty face.
“Why?” she teased right back. “You got some swelling?” Her dark eyes dropped to his crotch, and—damn her—his cock twitched against the zipper of his jeans.
“Indeed I do.” Playtime was over. He tossed the bloody washcloth onto the tabletop.
“I’m a little dirty,” she said, holding eye contact even as she threw down her own rag. “I need to shower first.”
Lukas wet his lower lip. Jesus. His cock at full mast, all he craved was Roz wet and naked, dripping water from her glossy black hair. Roz was flirting with him, and his pulse pounded toward only one outcome—bury himself in the witch. He didn’t care a bit that he’d only just stepped out of a shower. He’d gladly jump back in one for her.
Lukas reached for Roz’s hand and guided her from the room. At the threshold to the living room, she leaned up on her toes, bringing her mouth nearer his ear. He bent at the waist to meet her halfway.
Her breath puffed hot against his cheek. “How about that shower?”
It took only a moment for his brain to catch up to her offer, but when it did, Lukas bent a little lower and tossed Roz over his shoulder. She squealed and kicked, but he carried her directly to the bathroom and didn’t release her until they were safely locked inside.
He set her flat on her feet, and though pink-cheeked, she stared him down.
Lukas pulled his shirt over his head, and tossed it away. When he looked up, Roz’s dark eyes had grown marginally wider. He hesitated, not sure what she was thinking. Would she taunt him? The longer she stood staring at him, the more he doubted himself.
Finally, her expression softened. “I believe you promised to bend me over, bear boy.”
His skin electrified, and his breathing quickened. Something akin to adrenaline coursed through him, heightening all of his senses, as if he were about to shift. He wanted to lose himself in her.
Never breaking eye contact, she opened a drawer, brought out a wrapped condom, and placed it on the edge of the sink.
As her clothing seemed to melt off her body, he lost the rest of his. She revealed one patch of smooth bronzed skin at a time—her bare stomach, her breasts, her shoulders, and finally her legs and hips.
Gloriously naked and aroused, he closed the distance and dipped his head to kiss her hungrily. He parted her lips with his tongue, enjoying her delicious little mouth.
She was so small and fragile in his hands, he feared he’d break her in his frenzy to enjoy every inch of her, but Roz was frantic too. She had no such concerns about hurting herself or him. Her fingernails cut into his biceps as her body gyrated against his, her breasts soft pressure points against his abdomen. She groaned, and then dug her toes into his knee and pushed up. She swung her legs around his waist and kissed him.
If she weren’t more careful, he’d fuck her against the wall, but Lukas wanted to take his time with her. He wanted to enjoy her body, inside and out. He fumbled to turn on the hot water, and as steam curled around them, he lifted Roz higher until her tits were eye level, the tight, dark tips teasing him. With a growl, he sucked one into his mouth and shook his head. Roz cried out, her nails raking his flesh.
The water heated up, and he carried her into the shower stall. Her lithe body skimmed down the length of his, and she backed into the tiled wall to make room for him.
He dropped to his knees, eye level with the V between her thighs. He leaned in and nosed her mound, savoring the soft, sweet texture and her special scent.
Roz raised her left knee and draped it over his shoulder, drawing him nearer with her calf and heel. He happily obliged, burying his face between her legs and losing all sense of himself as she surrounded him. Her hands cupped the sides of his head, but his fingers roamed free. As his tongue massaged between her inner folds, his hands squeezed her pert little ass, rolling the flesh. He memorized the curve of her hips and the smooth dip of her waist. Finally, he slid his palms up her quivering abdomen to land upon her breasts, twin mounds of perfection. In his hands, she was soft and willing, warm and delicious.
He wanted her to come before he entered her, to be pliant and slick when he finally thrust between her legs. As he worked her breasts, his tongue, mouth, and teeth teased her core. His nose plucked at her clitoris as he suckled, wetting her opening, penetrating her with his tongue.
Her grip tightened in his hair, causing an electric but not unpleasant pain ricocheting down his spine.
“Lukas,” she panted. “Oh, my God. Don’t stop.”
Never. Lukas suckled the tiny berry between her folds, lathing it with his tongue. Roz’s thighs clenched, her fingers fisted in his hair, and she arched her back like a bow. With a strangled cry, she came.
His hand shot out from the curtain, snatched the condom, and unrolled it along his uncomfortably swollen length. Then, true to his word, he bent her over and buried himself inside her warm slit. With the first thrust, her inner muscles pulsed and clenched through the remains of her orgasm.
He rocked into her, unable to control himself, his hands on her narrow waist, her dark, wet hair falling around her shoulders. He slowly slid out, savoring the friction of her sweet little body, leaving just the tip buried inside her. Roz whimpered, and Lukas pushed into her, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him.
As Roz braced herself against the tile wall, he accelerated his thrusts until his hips slapped against her ass and her breasts jiggled. The orgasm blasted out of him like a hot, ball-wrenching explosion. He held her hips flush to his pelvis, his eyes closed, as she wrung every last drop from him.
He pulled out slowly, and Roz straightened, turning to face him. Her cheeks were cherry red and her eyes bright. He could have stood and stared at her forever, but eventually the specks of blood on her wrists and throat reminded him the shower hadn’t been for pleasure alone.
Smiling lazily, Lukas lathered soap and rubbed his hands up and down Roz’s arms, across her breasts, and along her ribs.
“You’re so little,” he marveled, lathering her tiny hands. “And yet so strong.”
“You’re so big,” she said, running soap up and down his abs. “Are all shifters so big?”
Her estimation pleased him. “I’ve heard we’re larger than human men, but I’ve never met another shifter.”
“Never?” Her hands tickled across his pecs and he momentarily lost the thread of their conversation.
“No, never.”
“But—but how did you even know how to be one?”
Lukas wasn’t ready to cease their soapy explorations and set her hands back upon his hips.
“Who says I know what I’m doing?”
“I’d say you know a lot about this.” She quirked an eyebrow, her gaze seeming to indicate their intimacy.
“This always came easily,” he said, dipping to kiss the tip of her nose. “It’s all the other stuff that’s hard.”
“The relationship stuff?” she guessed.
He nodded, not liking the turn the conversation was taking. He enjoyed Roz. She was sexy as hell. But a relationship? He wasn’t even a US citizen. He was in the country on a tourist visa. He wasn’t exactly thinking about a long-term situation.
To distract them both, he urged her around and then poured tropical scented shampoo over her long tresses. It flowed through his fingers like silk.