by Tina Donahue
Dedication
To my book buddies, Tracy and Jill.
Chapter One
He caught the woman’s scent on the damp breeze. Earthy like the fragrance of the surrounding vegetation. Sensual with female musk and spices from this realm, some sweet, some warm…the same as he imagined her breath and skin.
Those fragrances and danger had led him here.
Lifting his face to the night’s drizzle, he inhaled deeply, savoring her sensual aroma, picturing what she might look like, welcoming the images that followed. He envisioned her naked in the jungle where he’d once lived, the contours of her nudity bathed in the faint light of dawn breaking through countless leaves. Moisture beaded on her shoulders and throat. The droplets glimmered much as the insects did in his dimension. Those pearls of water grew fat, slipping past her full breasts to her torso and navel. Others clung to her nipples until her heightened breathing shook them free. He sensed her excitement, her desire for him.
On his plane, she would have faced him without fear of what he was, her lips tilting in a smile, so provocative, her voice enticing. “Can you catch me?” she would murmur, then draw back her shoulders in a surprisingly arrogant stance. “Can you possible satisfy me?”
In his fantasy, he laughed at her audaciousness and waited for so much more.
Her turning and running, playing their game, demanded he follow if he intended to have her.
Never was there any doubt, not even in his thoughts. At a full run, he chased her through the foliage. Leaves slapped him. The rain that clung to their velvety contours flung in all directions. He darted around the same trees she had, breaking through the plants that towered over them. Insects scattered with his approach. In the distance, a birdlike creature called to its mate. Its full-throated cry cut through the heavy quiet.
He sensed the other males in their pack watching, waiting for him to fail so they could mount her.
Never.
He’d been alone too long, without a female’s comfort and warmth, her concern for his safety telling him that he mattered.
His feet pounded the soil; his lungs burned. Every part of his being desired her. She gasped as he bolted past. An unexpected move, until she guessed his intent. Pivoting, she tried to retrace her steps. Too late. He was faster than she was, far more determined.
With one arm around her waist, he pulled her into him. Her plush ass nuzzled his cock, making it even harder. She smelled of woman and animal need. Whimpering in submission, she turned her face to his, lips parted. He captured her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside, and growled at her wet heat, the willingness with which she suckled his tongue.
He kissed her deep, long, savagely, the animal part of him freed by passion. She responded in kind, allowing him to direct her to the ground, where she went to her hands and knees. Her hair, as he imagined it, fell forward to sweep the jungle floor. She lifted her buttocks, her openings exposed for his use. A servile yet shameless move. Her cunt was moist, glistening with her lust. Her soft folds were plump with desire.
He dropped to his knees and brought his cock to her opening, though he didn’t yet penetrate. The other males in his pack edged closer, smelling his carnal hunger. Hers. Their eyes glittered in the shadows. He knew their need.
His own was too great to wait a second more. With one assured thrust, he drove his cock into her softness and heat. His mouth sagged opened on a pleasured gasp. Deeply, fully he drove his rod into her until their bodies touched to prove his claim. She belonged to him…always would. Her sheath was snug, a wondrous prison confining him in the best possible way.
Welcome sensations dashed up his chest and arms to tingle the top of his head. He pulled back and thrust, his balls tapping her ass. A shudder escaped him. He—
A stream of male and female workers to his left exited the tall beige building, stalling his thoughts. He fought the urge to fall back into the shadows of the hospital, uncertain as to what went on within. The structure was nothing like the Pleasure Palace in the realm from which he’d come. The Palace’s contours were massive and black with no openings at all, the activities inside hidden from those in the jungle. Icy white light poured from this building’s many windows, too high for him to peer inside.
The woman’s scent grew stronger.
He looked beyond the males and females who moved past. At that moment, the crowd thinned out, revealing a woman who’d lagged behind the others. Her.
The breeze seemed to pause. He no longer felt the rain sprinkling his face. Indescribable sensations pumped through him, a mixture of wonder and caution. He shouldn’t stare, knowing it would bring attention to himself, yet he couldn’t resist.
A tall female, she wore jeans as he did and what he’d learned was a hoodie on this side, the navy fabric pulled up over her head, protecting her hair from the thin autumn shower, hiding those tresses from him. The few wisps that escaped were short and dark. She’d stopped in a wedge of light from the building, the harsh illumination revealing her exotic features, lush lips, coppery skin. Her fragrance wafted toward him again, the woodsy scent intoxicating, complementing her pale blue eyes, the color sheer, ethereal.
Beads of water collected on her long, dark lashes.
She shoved her hands into her hoodie’s pockets, advanced a few steps, then stopped, noticing him.
Rain pattered against the concrete, matching the brisk thumping of his pulse. Music poured from inside a car, the steady throb of its bass intensifying the moment. Wind whipped past. Tires swished over asphalt.
Ignoring the incessant noise, she studied him with what appeared to be female interest and curiosity. His legs weakened at the thought that she might come to him. He imagined her drawing closer.
She remained where she was, color rising to her cheeks, darkening them. Why? Because she feared him…or wanted him?
Heat radiated from his chest to his belly and groin, stiffening his cock. Unused to clothing, he wanted to tear away his jeans, tee and suede jacket. At the very least, he ached to approach her. Intuition warned him to remain where he was…for the moment. When she left, he’d follow. He had no choice, sensing what awaited her on the shadowed streets. Within the last half hour, the smell of a guard—one of the most hated predators in his realm—had grown more obvious, leading him to this part of the city. If the night air had been calm, he might have located the man’s hiding place with little effort. As it was, the wind kept changing direction, snatching the odor away.
To put her at ease and keep her from leaving the safety of this place, he smiled.
Her lips parted. A bead of rain slipped over the bottom one to her chin. He imagined licking it off, kissing her throat, taking her into his arms and doing so much more.
His desire didn’t go unnoticed. She seemed uncertain whether to return his smile or to flee.
Stay here until the threat’s gone. The guard will move on to a new location. He’ll stalk another woman.
Her indecision broke. She crossed the parking lot, her strides long and purposeful.
On instinct, he advanced a step, then stopped himself from tailing her. He couldn’t now, not after they’d exchanged such a prolonged glance. For him to follow too close behind would make her run, perhaps scream, bringing unwanted notice. His only option was to wait and allow things to play out as they had since he’d come to this realm, hunting—killing—protecting those he could in the hours before dawn.
The drizzle turned to a steady rain. Great.
Good sense and a crappy day in the ER told Gwen Lalani to quicken her pace, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the hospital. Although she’d handled her usual share of trauma these past days, what had happened l
ast week continued to haunt her.
Behind the curtain that night, Gwen had expected to see a guy who was pretty messed up, given what the emergency personnel had said. Still, she had gaped at what was left of a man who’d been attacked either by someone who was a lunatic or in a drug frenzy. The victim’s face, hands and feet were gone, the ragged edges telling her someone had actually gnawed them off.
God. Gwen had seen a lot in the ER. However, the brutality of the attack shocked the shit out of her. Two of the new residents witnessed her reaction. Quick as could be, those guys were gossiping like schoolgirls, telling their peers and anyone who would listen that they’d been afraid she’d pass out. After all, she was a mere RN. No way could they expect her to react to blood and gore as a doctor or a guy would.
Uh-huh. Gwen knew exactly how males behaved. It had never been pretty.
In middle school, she’d been taller than most of the boys, which didn’t sit well with them, so they resorted to bullying. In high school, she wasn’t purebred enough for any ethnic group. Her Hawaiian, Hispanic, Caucasian and black ancestry made her the ultimate outcast. The few boys who’d asked her out wanted sex, not a relationship. No surprise, except they didn’t even try to sugarcoat their demands with the I-love-you lie.
At twenty-seven, she wasn’t finding her male coworkers any better.
She blew out a sigh, hating herself for letting them and the memory of that dead guy get to her…and for allowing that other man to see it. Pausing beneath one of the trees in the parking lot, she looked back without meaning to, half expecting him to be there still, watching her.
The spot where he’d been was empty. Rain shimmered in the halo of light.
A sense of loss, or was it disappointment, rolled through Gwen. For a stranger no less. She frowned at her ridiculous reaction but couldn’t stop from glancing to the left, the right, somehow still feeling his presence and male heat.
He was a hard man not to notice, even more difficult to forget.
From her brief glimpse of him, Gwen gauged his height to be six-three. He appeared to be in his early thirties, his body in superb physical condition, lean and muscular, his skin bronzed. Like a freaking Greek god.
Shivers of delight coursed through her at the thought of running her hands over the hard planes of his body, loitering on all the best parts, pressing her face into the hollow of his neck, smelling his skin and dark brown hair. He wore it combed back, the ends reaching his shoulders, no different from a pirate in a romance novel or a sheik from a Middle-Eastern country. So damn virile, no one would ever accuse him of being the boy next door.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her breath fogged in the increasingly chilly night even as the rest of her grew fevered. She recalled his strong, masculine features and beautiful eyes. So light they had to be gray, their color nearly silver in the twilight that surrounded him. Arresting. Arousing.
The same as his smile.
A smile like that could brighten a woman’s world on a dreary evening like this. It could thrill and comfort, the same as his big body and musky male scent. With his hands around her wrists, he’d settle down on top of her, his weight deliciously confining, their faces close enough for him to capture her mouth for a kiss.
He wouldn’t. Instead, he’d gaze at her while he stroked her palms with his thumbs. Tender foreplay to lull her into complacency. To prepare her for the wanton act to come. His cock would grow stiff between her legs. Her pussy would already be moist with her desire for him. He’d enter her slowly, recording her reaction as he stretched and filled her with his thick rod. He wouldn’t stop until their curls touched and she had no possibility of escape.
Not that she’d try.
She’d yield without hesitation, sheltering his body with hers, drowning in his lust.
Nice. And not at all unrealistic given the glimmer of desire she’d caught on his face. She wasn’t a beauty, nor was she girly, but for a moment, he’d seemed to want her.
He was surely a man who knew how to please a woman. Possibly several at once. What had he been doing here tonight? Where had he gone?
Like a damn fool, she continued to scan the lot for him. Moisture sparkled on the roofs and hoods of numerous vehicles. A blast of wind sent the rain slashing sideways. Jeez. The clammy cold drove away her fantasy’s comforting glow faster than his absence. Despite their momentary connection, she’d never see him again.
Time to get a grip and go home.
She darted through the lot, her teeth chattering and not only from the temperature. A sudden, inexplicable sense of dread gripped Gwen. Once more, she paused and glanced around. The area was empty of pedestrians, everyone else already inside the hospital or driving away. Leaving her alone. Unprotected. Vulnerable.
Right. In a few more seconds, the creepy theme from that old movie Halloween would play in her mind. Best to stop this idiotic nonsense. She was a big girl, could take care of herself and didn’t let shit worry her. Like the recent rash of missing women in the Seattle area, their bodies not yet found.
They were all young, petite, attractive. The news reports had likened their disappearances to when Ted Bundy lived here in the seventies and made the city his personal killing field, offing women without detection.
Headlights pierced the darkness, accentuating the rain. Gwen squinted at the brightness. For one wild moment, she wondered if its driver was the hot guy she’d seen earlier…or the unknown killer. Her pulse kicked up several notches. She imagined the maniac being so desperate for a victim he had settled on her, planning to force her inside his vehicle, taking her to God-knew-where to do God-knew-what.
Fearing the worst, she stepped back.
The car turned left and moved past, its occupants not bothering to glance her way before the vehicle disappeared into the night.
She wasn’t alone.
The thought startled Gwen even as she tried to dismiss it. The hairs on her arms rose up. Something was wrong.
What? Other than the obvious—that she couldn’t afford a car or to live in the suburbs.
Frowning, she gripped her pepper spray even harder and continued across the lot to the surrounding neighborhood, a combination of inner city and working class that had seen better times. Failed attempts at gentrification had resulted in islands of beautiful two- and-three-story historic homes surrounded by blight, trash, weeds.
She hurried past the first vacant lot as quickly as she could, telling herself tonight was no different from any other. No one was after her. She wasn’t a psycho’s type, being too tall and not at all helpless. Hadn’t one of the residents said it very well last week when he’d jokingly referred to her as a ball buster for teaching those self-defense classes at the hospital? You bet he had. Her kind of woman wasn’t on most guys’ radar, especially those looking for an easy target.
Besides, she didn’t have all that far to walk and would get home safely.
Moisture rolled down her cheeks and throat. If the weather deteriorated any further, her hoodie would soon be soaked through. Huffing from her pace, she approached the street corner. The signal was red; the sign warning her not to cross. In both directions, the road was empty. Its wet surface gleamed in the available light.
Wind whisked around an abandoned confectionary, buffeting Gwen. She shivered and turned down the street, deciding to take a shortcut through an alley in the distance. From behind, a car approached. Glancing over, she saw it move down the main thoroughfare rather than turning in her direction.
Her running shoes made slapping noises against the damp pavement, the sounds obtrusive, not seeming to belong. Leaves rustled above her, the dying ones torn free by the wind. The bass of an unknown song thumped from a nearby brick building, its curtainless upper windows amber with light. A young boy with wavy black hair and dusky skin blew on the glass, fogging it, and then he drew a series of letters with his forefinger.
Gwen reached the vacant lot that cut from this street to the next, one over from her own. Just a bit fart
her to go. She’d be all right. No one was around. No one was following her.
Needing to be certain, she continued to glance back. There was nothing except darkness interrupted infrequently by dated streetlamps, their crumbling concrete facades matching the pockmarked sidewalks. Empty bags of Lay’s potato chips, Cheetos and other fast food littered the area, the cellophane crackling beneath her shoes.
With one hand around her pepper spray and the other clutching her house key, she entered the alley. Debris skittered down it, carried by the wind, the sickly sweet stink of garbage less noticeable in the brisk breeze. Yards ahead, half the length of a football field, was her street, a wall of murkiness separating her from it. Craning her neck, Gwen glanced at the many windows facing the alley, most boarded up. The ones that weren’t were dark.
Go on. She’d walked this route last night and countless times before that. The only hassle she’d faced were stray dogs crouching in the gloom, growling at her intrusion into their territory.
Tonight, even they were gone. For the first time ever, Gwen missed them. She knew she could easily frighten animals. Men, on the other hand… There might be a fight.
Again, she sensed someone watching, following.
Sudden outrage rather than fear pumped through Gwen. Halfway down the alley, she halted and turned, ready to rumble, show the jerk some of her martial arts moves.
No one was behind her.
She listened and heard nothing. Certainly not heavy breathing, except for her own.
Renewed apprehension cut through her aggravation. Gwen pivoted, ready to run the remaining distance. A faint whooshing noise interrupted her panting and the other night sounds. Before she could identify it, something hit her neck, stinging her skin.
Jesus, had someone shot her, with a fucking silencer no less?
Her hand flew up, then stalled not on blood but something else. What the hell?
What felt like a small dart had pierced the side of her throat unprotected by her hoodie. Where in the crap had something like that come from? Suddenly, her limbs went numb. Her hand dropped from her neck before she could remove the dart.