By the time Skye heard footsteps and heels coming from behind her as they crossed over on the slate flooring, she realized she wasn’t alone. Startled, she pivoted, led with an elbow and stopped just in time when she noticed who it was. The arm that had swooped out relaxed in an instant. She blew out a breath. “You know better than to sneak up on me like that. Is it too much to ask for a, ‘hey honey, I’m home’ from you so I won’t belt you next time?”
Josh grinned in response. “Like you could hear me or anything else over the Chili Peppers.” He reached over to turn the dial down a notch on her docking station. The music shifted to Mozart and a soft piano concerto.
Skye studied the man who looked exactly like what he was. A man who’d had a run of good luck with code and 3-D graphics. A few strands of loose black hair draped down his forehead while the longer length fell to his shoulders. His piercing gray eyes, almost silver in color, held just a hint of both mischief and haughty. “I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.”
“Meeting broke up early. Besides, since we didn’t get a chance to have lunch together, I figure taking off a half hour early, who’s gonna mind? I own the store.” He nipped her neatly around the waist and lifted her up off the floor. In one deft move, he plopped her butt back down on the counter to face him. “So you think you can take me, huh?”
“I used to be able to,” she groused as she looped her arms around his neck.
“Then I guess you’d better show me whatcha got,” Josh said in challenge as he settled in between her legs. Nibbling at one corner of her mouth then the other, his hands came around to the front of the tank top. His long fingers slid neatly under the fabric to finger a ripe nipple.
The need to mate gnawed at the fringes. As his mouth covered hers, he picked her up and together they eased down to the kitchen floor.
While they moved, they began to undress each other. She unbuttoned his shirt, ripped it back and off. But as he turned, she caught sight of the tattoo Josh now sported on his left shoulder. A grin spread across her face. A silver wolf with blue eyes matched the one she had on the right side of her upper back.
When he saw her mouth curve up, her dimples take shape, he simply tugged up her tee, pulled it over her head. “What are you grinning at? I’ve been waiting for this all day. I bet I can give you something to smile about.”
“I love you. I’m entitled to smile before I show you.”
“Mmm, I love to see your smile. You don’t do it often enough.” Josh rolled to his back, leaving Skye to straddle him. While hands tore at the rest of their clothes, while they shifted to remove shorts and pants, they couldn’t get at each other fast enough. Fierce took over reason. Lips and tongue skimmed lightly along each other’s skin.
He brought her head down, kissed the corners of her mouth gently before moving on to nip at an earlobe. He feasted along her neck, moved to flick his tongue back and forth over rose-tipped, pebbled points. Lifting her body farther up to his mouth, he went after her belly and then lingered downward.
Moist. Hot. The orgasm rocked through her.
She responded by taking hold of his head, dragging her fingers through his mass of long hair, untangling the strands as she went. Thrilled at the way he explored every fold, every tender part of flesh, she wanted him.
“Now,” Skye breathed out. “Inside me, now!” With that, she reached down to make that happen.
Bodies slicked. They found an easy pace for mating, strong and fast, hard and mellow. While the sonata soared, joy and delight flitted in and out. An explosion of dazzling colors brought them both up and over the peak of velvet greens then fell, blissfully into silky blues.
They glided along, diving into deep water, each riding the wave through the swell. Clinging to each other, they faded into the peaceful afterglow. While that pleasure took hold it was enough to lead them to the brink of what they’d never known before, the oneness, unique only to them.
Still coupled, breathing hard, they stayed locked together on the floor. Josh leaned up to Skye’s ear and whispered, “I love you. Marry me, Skye.”
But as he watched her eyes go big right before she rolled off him to start gathering up her shorts and top—without giving him an answer—his temper flared. He watched as she took a step backward figuratively, away from him. She wasn’t exactly jumping with joy at the prospect of becoming his bride. Instead of sniping at her about it though, he grabbed his shirt and pants in a snit and started to storm out of the kitchen.
“Josh…” Skye finally managed.
But her comeback died a quick death when Josh’s cell phone sang out. The ringing broke what was now awkward silence between them.
Josh stared at the phone he’d set down on the marble countertop. He was reluctant to talk to anyone right at this moment. Would she ever completely trust and commit to him? He was beginning to wonder. While he pondered that question, he snatched up his cell and saw the caller was Brad Jones, the detective working on Annabelle’s homicide case. What lousy timing, Josh thought as he gave Skye a go-to-hell look, and hit the screen to accept the call.
“Yeah,” Josh said into the receiver, clearly not in a good frame of mind.
“I’m glad I caught you, Mr. Ander,” Brad began. “I wanted to let you know the district attorney was notified this afternoon that the judge ordered Michelle Reardon to undergo further evaluation.”
“Goddamn it!” Josh railed into the phone. “So Michelle kills Annabelle and gets a pass to a psychiatric ward? That isn’t right.”
“I knew you’d be upset, that’s why I wanted you to hear it from me,” Brad detailed. “It seems Michele has been putting on quite a crazy act in her cell.”
“Like what kind of act?”
“Talking to herself mostly while she rocks back and forth. Then she pulls her own hair out, so much of it that they had to cut it off. You wouldn’t recognize the woman you once knew.”
“Believe me, I wish I’d never laid eyes on her. But I told all of you that Michelle was a clever con artist. There’s not a thing wrong with her mental state except she’s a superb manipulator. She played Annabelle. She played me. Did you even bother to delve into her past, to see if she’s ever done this kind of thing before? Michele knew exactly what she was doing when she filled that syringe with succinylcholine. She had to know since she used to work as a nurse. And now…”
“Calm down, Mr. Ander. As of this afternoon Reardon’s being shipped off to the Laurel Lake Facility in Kirkland where she’ll be under lock and key for at least three months. There isn’t a thing I can do about it. The judge has already made his ruling. They’ll evaluate her to see if she’s sane enough to stand trial.”
“She’s sane enough now,” Josh pointed out, clearly agitated by the turn of events. “And now she’s simply scheming to pull a stint in a mental hospital instead of prison.”
“For what it’s worth, I happen to agree with you.”
“And then what? What happens after this evaluation period?”
“After the ninety days are up, the judge will go over the recommendations by the staff psychiatrists, make another ruling. Let’s hope the doctors will come to the same conclusion that we have: that Michelle Reardon murdered your wife in cold blood so she could make her move on you. That after planning it for months, Michelle used her considerable knowledge of lethal drugs to kill Annabelle Ander, and she should be held accountable for her actions.”
Josh rubbed at his forehead where a headache had already kicked in. “Yeah, that all sounds fine and good but I guess now all we have is the hope that Michelle doesn’t get away with it.”
Chapter 4 Book 2
For the rest of the evening the tension between Josh and Skye grew worse with each ticking of the clock. By nine that night, when it was time for Skye to make her rounds, the two of them were pretty much ready to part company for a few hours.
They hadn’t said a word to each other since they finished dinner. So when he heard the sound of the elevator door clanging shut, he
grimaced.
Would things between them ever be normal? How many nights had he heard that ding and hoped like hell the woman he loved would be okay going out at night into Seattle’s mean streets without him?
Since the transformation he might be ten percent wolf but that meant ninety percent of him still required sleep to function. Tonight, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to Skye leaving the house every night without him. And right this moment, he wasn’t even certain he had a right to worry about her. Did she even want him to?
Hell, who was he kidding? He’d never stop stressing about her during those hours between nine at night and three or four in the morning. He could never quite settle until she crawled into bed beside him after her “rounds” were done, after she’d exhausted the notion that there were kids out there she could find and rescue.
It helped somewhat knowing that Kiya, the silver wolf they now shared, accompanied Skye into the streets. It was true the wolf protected her, was with her every step Skye took down alleys and dark unlit walkways.
But just because Josh was connected to Skye’s spirit guide now, didn’t mean he wouldn’t prefer to be out there with both of them. While woman and wolf patrolled, searched, and hunted, he hadn’t yet figured out a way to run his company during normal business hours and put in another six at night with Skye.
So he bided his time on his own at night—while she went out with her wolf in search of—whatever it was Skye needed to hunt. Be it predator or a child in trouble, he knew she felt compelled to go out. Period. But understanding and knowing Skye had to go out every night didn’t solve their problems. Not by a longshot.
Josh understood the evil out there. He did. Since he’d seen it firsthand in his own dark, disturbing dreams, he knew what it smelled like, what it looked like, what it felt like. But there were nights when all he managed to do was torture himself with the anxiety of knowing she was out there, while at the same time he’d get a minimum amount of shuteye to function during the day. He wasn’t sure he could keep doing this night after night.
And did he have to keep working on her every single day to get her to trust and commit to a long-term relationship with him? Did he want to work that hard at getting her to talk about it? Marriage. The woman couldn’t even bring herself to say the word.
Frustrated, disgruntled about the whole thing, he had to get his mind to focus on something else. Opening his laptop, he logged on to try to get a little work done. He wrote and sent a few emails, but after forty-five minutes of effort, he just couldn’t concentrate. So he logged off, snapped the lid closed harder than he meant to do.
One glance at the clock got him even edgier. Goddamn it, why hadn’t he gone with her? Something was off. It felt…wrong for Skye to be alone right now.
He reached for his phone, slid the arrow over to unlock. He thumbed over to favorites while moving to the elevator. With his hand he banged on the button four times in rapid succession. The door couldn’t open quickly enough. But when it did, he hopped into the car.
Why wasn’t she picking up?
Because something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones.
To hell with this reasoning, he needed to get to Skye. And he couldn’t move fast enough.
After leaving the loft, it didn’t take long for Skye’s senses to fill with the familiar sounds and smells of the night. As she drifted over to Fifth Avenue and Jackson near Union Station, she caught the unmistakable aroma of fried shrimp coming from Lute’s Seafood Shanty on the corner.
She heard a foghorn somewhere out in the harbor, the sound she’d heard a thousand times before. Glancing to her right, she noticed the hazy blue fog swirl up out of the ground and up into the misty night. Skye pursed her lips at the thick smoke. It always amazed her to watch Kiya take shape.
The vapor turned bluer, thicker. The energy blast to her system was like a shot of adrenalin. The boost of inner strength ran through her veins. Kiya’s eyes appeared first, a deep violet like her own. The body came next, silver in color. Sleek and elegant, Kiya flicked back her ears in greeting.
Skye had a moment to enjoy the meeting of mind and spirit as the wolf nipped at her booted feet. But then Kiya let out a low guttural growl in warning. Out of the corner of her eye, Skye caught movement. Suddenly she was surrounded by a group of five street thugs. Each hard-edged teen looked as if he was looking for something to do and had just hit pay dirt.
“What the hell you doin’ out here this time of night, bitch—alone? You in the wrong neighborhood. Mine.”
Skye drew in a ragged breath, sized up each male of various size and age. In her estimation, none was older than twenty. They did, however, look tough and determined. It was hard to distinguish their eyes clearly in the darkness. But she knew jittery pupils when she saw them and recognized an addict chasing a meth high. Three clutched knives in their fists that they waved in the air to make sure she saw they were armed.
Why was it always a knife? Skye wondered.
“Nice night for a walk,” she finally answered, pulling her nightstick from under the black jacket she wore.
“Whaddya plan on doin’ with that thing? That ain’t gonna do you no good here, bitch. Are you too stupid to see we got switchblades? Besides, you can’t take all of us.”
“Wanna bet,” Skye countered, about the same time Kiya bared her teeth in a menacing snarl. While the wolf’s corporeal form got their attention and seemed to mesmerize the bunch, Skye took the time to assess each one holding a weapon. She was pretty sure she could disarm at least two. The third one might be a problem. But what she intended to do with five she didn’t know.
“That’s some dog you got there,” the tallest one pointed out. “Won’t do you no good though. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re outnumbered.”
“And surrounded. You on our turf now,” one added.
“Not the first time,” Skye admitted, thinking hard about how she could stall until she’d formed a mental plan. “You guys must be new hereabouts ’cause I’ve never seen you before tonight. You’re not sporting any tattoos I recognize.”
“What do you know ’bout it anyway?”
“I know you’re from out of town.” She tilted her head to study the bigger, more imposing one, the one she’d already judged would give her the most trouble in hand-to-hand. “By the looks of the blue fashion statement and the SUR tattoos, I’d say you’re branching out from eastern Washington, looking over the sights here in Seattle, seeing what you can score before heading back to Spokane.”
She must’ve hit a nerve because the big one tossed out, “You’re a mouthy bitch, know that?”
“I’m a lot of things. Mouthy just happens to be one of them. Don’t tell me you like your women meek and mild.”
“Give us your money and we might let you live,” the bold guy sneered.
“Go away now and I might let you live,” Skye boasted, beginning to feel that edginess creep in just before a fight.
That valiant statement brought a round of laughter from the youngest follower, the one who looked to be about fifteen. As if contagious, the hilarity spread to the rest of the bunch.
Skye didn’t wait another minute. She took advantage of their merriment and struck out, whacking her nightstick into the largest man. Pivoting, she whipped out a leg, knocking the second-in-command into one of his buddies. Righting herself, Skye shoved her metal baton into the leader’s belly, watched him double over. She brought her leg up and into his chin. The force sent him reeling backward. He went down, but to her dismay he didn’t drop the knife.
Skye didn’t have time to worry about it as Kiya leaped, became airborne. The wolf attacked the one closest to Skye, sank her teeth into his forearm and wouldn’t let go.
As another man advanced, she caught Josh’s form as he appeared out of the mist. But she didn’t have time to do anything but ram an elbow into her attacker’s gut. Skye dodged a blow, did a flip backward. As soon as she landed, she backhanded the youngest one, connecting a leg kick to his
jaw. The force knocked him to his knees.
Skye glanced over, saw the mouthy one doing his best to gain his feet. She went over, sent a booted foot to his head, finishing him off. He dropped like a rock to the cement.
Meanwhile, Josh waded in with fists and punches of his own. “Not so tough now huh, punk?” Josh muttered as he shoved one man into a utility pole head first. The other, he gave a series of kicks to the hands and face. The knife the teen had clutched in his fist flew through the air. Josh heard the clatter of the blade as it hit the concrete. Josh began to pummel the teenager, now unarmed, who stood about his height. But after taking several blows, the youth fell back, cowered in the street and started yelling, “No. Stop. Don’t hurt me. I give up.”
Josh turned his head long enough to see Skye finishing off the guy hugging the wooden post. Josh zeroed in on the one doing the most begging. He picked him up by his blue tee. Staring long and hard into the teen’s brown eyes, Josh said in a conversational tone, “Tell me something. How many people do you think you’ve mugged in the last year? Beaten to a bloody pulp? How many people have you left on the streets to bleed to death?”
The guy swallowed hard before answering. “I…I…don’t know.”
“Wrong answer,” Josh stated as he pinged him into a parked car, knocking him out. Josh spun toward Skye, noted she’d taken care of her three.
“That isn’t fair. You got a hat trick while I only got to play with two.”
“Actually Kiya took care of one. So the score is really two to two. How come it took you so long to get here anyway? I thought the mind meld was supposed to work. It didn’t exactly go down the way we thought, now did it? I didn’t think you’d ever show up. What the hell took you so long?”
“If you’ll take a breath, I’ll tell you,” Josh said, grinning wildly at her in the dark. “I had my head up my ass, my mind on something else. It won’t happen again because I’m not letting you do this alone anymore.”
Skye Cree Boxed Set Books 1 - 3 Page 34