Enemy Mine

by Aline Hunter

  Jesus, what a clusterfuck.

  If Diskant—the Alpha and Omega of all the New York shifters—discovered they’d placed their race in danger with sheer stupidity, he’d have all their balls. Considering Emory intended to settle down with Mary in New York under Diskant’s authority, it wouldn’t be wise to piss the mean son of a bitch off any further. Diskant wasn’t sure Emory could control his wolf or his Alpha nature, which meant he had been reinstated in the pack on a trial basis. One small fuck-up could ruin everything.

  Fucking unacceptable.

  “The only people the police will investigate are locals,” Trey drawled, as if he was discussing what he had for dinner the night before. “As far as they’ll be concerned, someone got desperate and tried to rob the local grocery store. If Mary was on the payroll, Wade would have found it.”

  “And the apartment?”

  “The fire will go on the books as an accident caused by bad wiring and ratty insulation.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive, how’s that?”

  “It’ll do,” Caden interrupted Trey and revved up the engine. “Get your ass in the Caddy or call a cab. The others are ready to move. Time is up.”

  Trey pivoted and stared at the shifters in the distance. One group had removed the Shepherds’ bodies and waited inside the unmarked van. The others were piled into the SUVs beside it. Emory raised the window when Trey pounded his fist on the roof, nodded and started walking toward the front of the Escalade.

  “All done for now.” Doc nodded at the bandage across Mary’s head. “Keep pressure on it until we stop.”

  Emory moved to do as instructed as the doctor revealed a vial and syringe. He frowned when he asked, “What are you doing?”

  “If she wakes up and panics she’s liable to hurt herself. I’m going to give her a sedative.” Mary didn’t flinch or make a sound when the needle pierced her arm and he injected the medication. “There we go.” Doc spoke in a soothing tone Emory was sure he used often with his human patients. “Rest while you can.”

  Trey opened the front door and slid into the passenger seat. “Get a move on,” he quipped as he settled back. “We haven’t got all night.”

  “Fucking smartass,” Caden retorted and put the vehicle in gear.

  They pulled away from the lot, driving slowly. Within a minute police vehicles and a wailing fire truck blew past them.

  “Just in time.” Doc sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between two thick, blunt fingers. “That was close.”

  Too close, Emory thought and stared at the young woman in his arms.

  Even with her blonde hair and parts of her face smeared with blood, she was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Her features were perfect—full lips, pert nose and enormous chocolate-brown eyes. The memory of her smile caused his cock to stir, coming to life against the plush roundness of her ass. She didn’t know what her smile did to him, especially when she caught him staring and became embarrassed and aroused.

  God, her scent.

  Even now the wolf within brushed against his skin as the fragrance returned to him—the perfume of lavender, sunshine and sweet, feminine musk. Many nights had been spent fantasizing about the ways he’d tease her, taunt her and introduce her to the joys and pleasures of sex. She’d never had to confess how little she knew about the art. He’d known it from the way she reacted to him, how she’d tensed, shivered and relaxed when he placed his hand into the small curve of her back.

  She was so innocent—too fucking innocent.

  He’d known Mary was too young for him when they’d met—only twenty years old—but he hadn’t been able to help himself. Denying the need for her was like existing without a reason, living each day with no purpose. So he’d decided to give her time, to allow her to get to know him as a man and a person, to give them the chance to become comfortable with each other.

  Then the unthinkable happened and all of his carefully laid plans were destroyed.

  Never had he dreamed it would be like this, with him forcing her to accept him and his bestial half. For fuck’s sake, the last time he’d seen her she’d been terrified of him. The way she’d looked at him—like he was a damn monster—hurt more than the bullets he’d taken from her family. Yes, he could oftentimes be an animal in the literal sense, but he never would have hurt her. He’d never given her any reason to believe he would. Yet she’d run just the same, screaming as if she’d seen the devil instead of the man who’d fallen in love with her.

  His cock was undeterred by the remembrance, remaining firm against the crease of her buttocks. No amount of regret could ice the heat racing through his bloodstream, the need to fuck and claim his female rolling like thunder inside him.

  Shame for his lust hit him like a punch in the gut.

  Pitiful. You’re like a pup sniffing around for his first whiff of pussy.

  And things were only going to get worse.

  He’d ridden the edge for as long as he could. His patience wasn’t what it used to be. If he’d been given the opportunity, he’d have done right by his mate. He’d have afforded her a couple of years—no matter how difficult those years were for him—to come to terms with her future. They could have been friends first, getting to know each other before tackling the important steps. Ones that would change her life forever. Holding her, having her and knowing she was finally his wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d thought it might be, not if it meant she would experience fear, uncertainty or doubt as a consequence.

  Despite the fact everyone in the vehicle could hear him—regardless that she wasn’t awake to accept the apology—he wasn’t too proud to whisper, “I’m sorry, angel eyes.”

  He said a silent prayer she would offer forgiveness, get past her fear of what he was and accept their life together.

  Even if, deep down, he knew what he was asking for was too much.

  Chapter Two

  Mary kept her eyes closed as she slowly came to awareness. Reality merged with dreams, nightmares of her capture and torment months ago followed by flashes of being chased and hunted down by her family. Unexpectedly, Emory had appeared. He wasn’t as scary as she’d once thought. In this dream he was her savior, not her enemy. He’d cradled her to his body, whispering reassurances she didn’t understand. The dreams were so different than the others, when she watched him change into a hideous creature with fangs and claws. Now he was only a man who looked at her as if she were precious, something he didn’t want to let slip away a second time.

  Somehow she found the courage to open her eyes.

  If the softness of the mattress and feather comforter cushioning her body didn’t inform her she wasn’t in her bed, the clean ceiling and gossamer curtains flittering in a window to her left did. The room was immaculate, done primarily in white, and there wasn’t a cobweb or crusty, peeled wallpaper in sight. Fading sunlight cast a dull orange glow over the room, informing Mary it would be dark soon.

  “You’re finally awake.”

  Mary lifted onto her elbows to face the person who’d spoken, only to wince and touch the tender spot along the side of her head. The female seated in a chair across the room was tiny, nothing more than delicate features and huge blue eyes. Her light blonde hair was trimmed into a pixie cut and tufts of dark pink were scattered along the top. The stranger rose and the motion only emphasized just how petite she was, standing at no more than five feet tall.

  “Who are you?” Mary forced her voice to remain level despite the fact that she was shaking. “Where am I?”

  “My name is Ava.” The teeny blonde goddess sat on the edge of the bed. “And you’re in my home. No one will harm you here, Mary. You have my word.”

  “I didn’t tell you my name.” Survival instincts had Mary ready to bolt. She grasped the comforter and prepared to slide out of the bed to make a run for it.

  “No, you didn’t.” Ava smiled.

  “Then what did you do? Pull it out of thin air?”

  To Mary’s
surprise, Ava laughed. “I suppose I could have but no. Emory told me.”

  “Emory?” Portions of her dream resurfaced—of Emory’s face, of his scent, of the way he felt with his arms around her.

  “Yes, Emory.” There was amusement in Ava’s expression.

  “I thought it was a dream.” Mary gently prodded the wound on her head, paying attention to the neat row of sutures. “I can’t piece everything together.”

  “Doc decided it was best to keep you under for a while. He was worried you’d hurt yourself if you panicked.”

  “Doc?”

  Ava smiled. “Our doctor.”

  “He patched me up?”

  Ava nodded. “Four sutures, to be precise.” She exhaled slowly and peered through her lashes at Mary. “You’re extremely lucky. If the pack hadn’t found you when they did you wouldn’t have made it.”

  Pack. One word had her heart pounding and made her palms clammy. It was true she’d been terrified of shifters before she discovered that monsters came in all shapes and forms—and not all of them grew fur or sprouted claws. Mary glanced at Ava. Of all the shifters she’d seen at her uncle’s home, none had been so small. Was Ava some kind of rodent shifter?

  Do those even exist?

  Ava burst out laughing and Mary moved farther away, scooting to the edge of the mattress. Maybe the woman was insane. It would explain the pink hair and the odd smile on her face. She certainly didn’t act normal. Despite Ava’s reassurances that her home was safe, it was definitely time to get a move on.

  To her stunned amazement, Ava’s laughter died and her face became serious. “Don’t even think about trying to leave. You have no idea the damage you caused when you left Emory but believe me when I tell you if you run he will follow. There is nowhere you can go he won’t find you. You need to accept that your life is about to change. As much as it sucks to tell you that, I don’t want to waste time shitting you. Take everything you think you know and toss it out the window. Nothing is what it seems.”

  “And how would you know?” Mary slipped from the bed and wobbled when her bare feet touched the cool wood flooring. “Things must seem pretty clear from your side of the fence.”

  Ava arched a perfectly shaped brow. “My side of the fence?”

  “The shifter side.” Mary glanced around, searching for her clothes. “What was I thinking? I can’t believe you’d even consider having me in your home. Not with what I am.”

  “And what are you?”

  “Are you being intentionally stupid?” Mary placed her hands on her hips and tried not to be embarrassed that she was clothed in nothing more than her underwear and a T-shirt. “Does the word Shepherd ring a bell? Or did Emory leave that part out?”

  And if he saved me, why isn’t he here? Why wasn’t he waiting in the room when I woke up? Did he leave me? Is this some kind of revenge? Does he expect me to pay for what I’ve done?

  “Shepherd is nothing more than a name. The people who are born with it choose their own destiny. You of all people should know that. I wouldn’t judge—”

  Whatever Ava was going to say didn’t come. It was like watching a scene in The Twilight Zone. One minute the teeny woman had advice to impart, the next she turned to the door as if she expected someone to step inside.

  Within seconds, someone did.

  Emory.

  Oh God.

  Mary’s knees almost caved when she saw him in all his glory, his body and face clearly identifiable in the light radiating through the window. How in the hell had she forgotten how big he was? Six foot three and all muscles, rigid planes and hard lines. The dark stubble on his face made him mysterious yet sexy, matching the hair that was brushed away from his face. There was concern in his light brown eyes, as well as a heat she’d seen aimed in her direction a time or two in the past. He walked toward her—no, he prowled—each step deliberate and as smooth as butter.

  He frowned when he saw her. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. Doc hasn’t put you in the clear.”

  Who cared if an inner warning screamed he wasn’t entirely a man? At the present moment all she could think about was the way he talked, of the husky cadence of his words. His voice was the aphrodisiac she remembered, sending waves of fire from her belly to areas of her body she’d never dared touch or explore. Her nipples tingled, hardened and formed jutting points as a wet heat built between her thighs.

  Knock it off! She shifted her legs together as she backed her way toward the wall. You haven’t seen him in months. After the way you treated him, you have no idea if he’s even interested anymore. He saved you. He didn’t promise you the world.

  Fear crashed into her as she dredged up the memory of screaming in his face, terrified of the changes in his features. The reminder removed any trace of her growing desire. What if he harbored a grudge? What if he was angry for what she’d done? Maybe he thought he could get to her family through her? He had no idea of the horrors she’d endured once she’d returned home and learned how demented her uncle and her relatives were. Although he’d found her living elsewhere—something else she didn’t fully understand—he couldn’t possibly know why she’d run or how difficult it had been to escape the farm in Colorado.

  “Easy there, angel eyes,” he murmured in a placating tone and stepped around the bed, continuing in her direction. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  Angel eyes.

  She closed her eyes, remembering the first time he’d called her that. She’d argued that angels had blue eyes, not brown, but he’d insisted that her eyes and face were those of an angel. It had been the first strike in her emotional armor, allowing him to snake his way into her heart. Not long after she was silly putty in his hands.

  When she felt fingers gently twine around her wrist, she gasped and her eyes flew open. Emory was even bigger up close. The black T-shirt covering his torso was drawn tight over the muscles beneath, revealing the outline of his pecs as well as the defined six-pack abs below. She kept her gaze level on his chest, afraid to meet his eyes. Her breathing was stinted but she could still smell him. It shouldn’t be legal for a man to smell so good—all clean, seductive and undeniably Emory.

  Mortification swept through her when he touched her cheek and she flinched. She’d been hit in the face so many times it was instinctive to move away, to keep a safe distance.

  “Ava,” Emory said, the word coming out as a low growl, and Mary had to force aside panic in order to remain still and passive in his grasp, “it’s time for you to go.”

  “Okay.” Ava didn’t sound certain about being asked to leave, which only increased Mary’s alarm. “If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”

  Soft footsteps, the creak of a door opening and closing and Ava was gone—leaving Mary alone with one hell of a large shifter male who might just want her dead.

  Don’t freak out. Don’t lose it. Just breathe.

  “Shh,” Emory whispered and pulled her to his chest.

  She wasn’t sure why he was comforting her until she realized she was whimpering. The sound made her sick and took her to dark places she wanted to forget—memories of pain, loss and terror. Tears stung her eyes but she didn’t allow them to fall. Instead she sagged into Emory’s chest, leaning on his strength, allowing him to shelter her from the world if only for a short time. He ran his hands along her spine in a light motion, traveling from her nape to the indentions above her buttocks. A spike of electricity shot through her, following the gliding brush of his fingers.

  “No one will harm you.” Anger was in his voice and she wondered what had put it there. “I swear.”

  “Not even you?” She wanted to take what she said back as soon as she heard herself speak. The arms around her became tense and Emory’s chest went still, as if he was holding his breath. After several seconds he relaxed, stepped back and placed his hands on each side of her face. She froze when he lifted her chin and she met his gaze. His irises were mesmerizing, brown with radiant amber centers.

  “I can’t chan
ge what I am but you have no reason to fear me or mine. None of us will ever hurt you—especially me. You’re as essential to me as the air I breathe. Without you, I’m nothing.”

  The intensity in his expression eradicated any rational thought. If he was lying, he was an expert in the craft. With the way he looked at her, she believed what he said, took it as gospel and not idle pillow talk. Despite their history, no matter what had occurred in the past or waited for them in the future, his feelings apparently hadn’t changed.

  Heaven help her. Maybe she was deluding herself because she wanted to believe he still wanted her, yearned for her. Prior to learning he was a shifter, she’d imagined going to her knees before him, giving him total control, allowing him to teach her all of the ways to give and receive pleasure. Yes, when she’d learned what he was—half man, half wolf—she’d been scared of him. Who wouldn’t be? The discovery had been a shock, something she didn’t want to believe.

  But now…

  Now it wasn’t fear she was experiencing.

  She’d always been attracted to Emory, had wondered as she lay awake in her bed alone and restless what it would be like to spend a night in his arms. Girlish daydreams had merged with the fantasies of a woman full-grown. Her virgin status was only due to the death of her parents and the strict upbringing after their loss. Now she wasn’t an innocent, wide-eyed schoolgirl. She’d seen and done things that had made her grow up hard and fast.

  His warm breath caressed her lips as his mouth hovered over hers. “Mary…”

  It wasn’t the lust in his gaze that caused her to shiver, it was the way he said her name, as though he were drowning in tempestuous waters and it was the last word he’d share with the world before he sank beneath the surface. She waited, trembling in his arms. Before he closed the distance and kissed her, she closed her eyes. There was more than physical desire in his expressive, amber-hued irises. Something she wanted to see and therefore worried might be a figment of her imagination.

  Once she gave herself over to Emory, she had a feeling there was no going back—not for her, at least. Despite knowing about the existence of shifters, she didn’t know about or understand the eccentricities involved when they dated, had sex or lavished affection on the opposite sex. If Emory was more beast than man, her heart would be broken when he got what he wanted and moved on.