Claws and Fangs [Men of Passion, Colorado 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jane Jamison

  He put his fingers to his nose again. Instantly, a much stronger aroma of the blood rushed into him, stinging his nostrils and bursting into his brain. His mouth watered as he peeked his tongue out between his lips and touched the tip of it to his fingers. His stomach roiled at the idea of tasting her blood, yet another part of him, the new, untamed essence being born inside, roared with joy. He scanned the area around him as though seeing the world for the first time. Although darkness would normally have prevented him from seeing very far, he could suddenly see into the night, better than even moments earlier. Now he could pick out animals that had always been hidden to him. If he could find the woman, then he would quench the gnawing need in his gut for a bigger taste of her blood.

  Damon’s hand on his shoulder tore him out of the nightmare he was imagining. Horrified by his thoughts, he bolted to his feet. “Something’s happened to us. Something’s changed us. More than simply making us feel stronger.”

  Jude could smell the fear coming off his brother as though it were cologne he’d donned for a night’s festivities. He could hear his brother’s heartbeat and sense the blood coursing through his body. Without warning, he licked his lips and wondered how sweet Damon’s blood would taste on the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth, eager to find out.

  Damon’s eyes grew wide, and he stepped backward. “What are you doing? Stop! Your eyes…your teeth…”

  A thrill whipped through him as he stalked toward Damon. He’d feed and think about what he’d done later. Opening his mouth, he sought his brother’s eyes.

  Come to me, Damon. Do not resist.

  Damon stopped moving. Instead, he pulled his lips back into a snarl, exposing razor-sharp fangs of his own. His brother’s face started changing, re-forming, elongating his chin and his nose until Jude could see the head of a wolf coming out of Damon’s face. Claws broke through the ends of his fingernails, and dark fur skimmed along his arms and neck.

  Shock shuddered through Jude as his mind rebelled from what he’d been about to do. Instead, he stared at his brother and acknowledged what was happening. His fangs retracted and his thoughts cleared of any intent to harm Damon.

  “Damon, stop! Don’t let it command you. Brother, come back to me!”

  But Damon wouldn’t stop. Using his two paw-like hands, Damon shoved him backward and knocked Jude to the ground. Pouncing on top of him, Damon opened his mouth and leaned over him, ready to drive his fangs into his neck. Not wanting his brother to see his pain and horror, Jude closed his eyes and waited for death a second time.

  He could feel Damon’s warm breath on his cheek and then, in an instant, Damon jumped away from him. Jude dragged in a breath and opened his eyes.

  Damon sat on the road several feet away, his knees drawn to his chest as he’d done as a child. He shook his head, and tears streamed down his face. “This cannot be. This cannot be.”

  Jude hurried to his brother and pulled him into an embrace. “We won’t let the demons inside us take over. From this point, we’ll fight them until the day we die.”

  Damon glanced up at his older brother. “Haven’t we fought enough? I can’t stand to fight any longer.”

  “What other choice do we have? Do we give in to the horror that has been visited upon us? Do we spread the pain and misery we feel? I think not. Take the vow with me, dear brother. Vow that we will never do to anyone what was done to us. Make that solemn vow, or kill me and put me out of my misery.”

  “Can you make that vow? I’m not sure I can.”

  “Together we can. Together we can do anything.” Jude wiped away his own tears then nodded to Damon. He placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “With your help, I promise to keep that vow. Say it, brother.”

  Damon nodded then put his hand on Jude’s opposite shoulder. “I vow it.”

  “Then let’s continue home.” Jude put on a brave face. Yet somewhere deep inside him, he feared they would someday give in to the demons lurking inside them.

  Chapter One

  Present day

  “Ooh, goody.” Lilly Beanston, Kelly’s best friend since junior high, flopped onto the chair next to her then leaned on her shoulder to peer at the computer screen. Her red, frizzy hair bounced around her oval face that had a spattering of freckles dancing over the bridge of her nose and piercing green eyes. She grinned, showing off her metal braces with the colored rubber bands. She didn’t look like she was twenty-four years old, the same age as Kelly.

  “Who are you Googling? Did you meet a new guy? If so, why didn’t you mention him before now? Kelly Sims, are you holding out on me?”

  As usual, Lilly spewed out her questions faster than Kelly could answer them. In fact, she didn’t even try. What was the use of racing against the speeding bullet of her mouth?

  “If you must know—”

  “Which, of course, I must.” Lilly popped a jelly bean into her mouth and lifted her eyebrows to urge Kelly to keep going.

  “If you’ll let me get a word in, Beany, then I’ll tell you.” She used the nickname Lilly had gotten for her love of jelly beans as well as her last name. “Melanie assigned me to write a fluff piece on the first annual Passion Arts Festival.”

  “Oh.” Lilly slumped into her chair and popped two jelly beans into her mouth. “I got all excited for nothing.”

  “Imagine that,” quipped Kelly and received a friendly punch in the arm. “Anyway, I’m doing a little background research about a few of the more interesting artists.”

  “Please tell me you’re not going to feature one of those people who makes those weird ceramic face jugs.”

  “Hey, I like those jugs. Did you know slaves were the first ones to make them? In South Carolina, if I’m remembering correctly. Anyway, no, I’m looking at a painter and this photographer. The painter’s good, but these photographs are amazing. He takes pictures of different women, young and old, beautiful or not. And they’re always in black and white. He always makes them look so alive in his shots, as though he’s caught them in a moment of time and immortalized them for eternity.”

  “Listen to you wax poetic.”

  She smiled then studied the photographs again. “I don’t know that much about art or photography, but I know enough to recognize talent when I see it. I don’t know how he does it.”

  Lilly sat up again and leaned closer. “Now we’re talking. Damon Darrington. What a great name, and yeah, his work is amazing. Plus, he’s hot. You should totally hit that.”

  “Me? Why don’t you, if you’re so interested?”

  “I just might. But you know how these guys are. Show them a girl with long golden locks, a turned-up nose, legs that stretch to the moon, and a tight little bod, and they forget all about girls with substance like me.”

  “Hey, who doesn’t have substance?”

  “I’m not talking about your waistline, you know.”

  Kelly’s mouth dropped open, but she was only faking. She knew she wasn’t fat, and she also knew Lilly was kidding. “Watch it, girlfriend.”

  Lilly’s gaze strayed to the photo of Damon. “Oh, I am. I sure am.”

  “You’re incredible. But, anyway, I’m not choosing my subjects based on their good looks.” Yet if she knew Melanie, her editor, she’d probably tell her to choose people who were not only good artists but nice looking. After all, a picture was worth a thousand words, and with the way newspapers had to fight to stay alive in the digital world, every little thing she could do to draw readers in was well worth it.

  She studied the photo of Damon Darrington again. He was more than nice looking. Although she suspected the photograph didn’t do him justice—after all, he hadn’t taken his own photo—Lilly was right. Damon was smokin’. His dark hair and smoldering eyes came across in spite of the poor quality of the image. Wearing jeans and a form-fitting T-shirt, he was a picture-perfect example of what every woman wanted.

  Kelly scrolled down and read his biography. Other than a few other festivals and art exhibits, all of which had
raved about his work, he seemed to stay out of the limelight. For an artist, that was unusual, since getting noticed amounted to better sales.

  “Is he married? Attached? Please don’t tell me he’s gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, but I so want him to play on our side of things.”

  Damn, I hope he’s not gay, too.

  Kelly didn’t bother dissuading Lilly this time. Besides, she wanted to know, too, if only for professional reasons to make her article for the local paper more factual.

  Yeah, right. That’s why. Don’t say that to Lilly, or she’ll fall to the floor and die laughing.

  Although Kelly was barely making ends meet even with Lilly chipping in as her roommate, she loved her life as a freelance writer and blogger. In her spare time, she wrote novels that sold through an online publisher. But that money wouldn’t pay the electric bill, much less the rent on their modest two-bedroom apartment. Although Passion was a few miles away from Denver, the lifestyle seemed to come with a big-city price tag. But she loved the small town with its mix of young suburbanites and local artists who gave the town an extra-eccentric flavor. Real life cowboys mixed with millionaires wearing expensive suits while yuppies shared coffee at local cafes and bistros. Passion was the perfect mix of large city convenience with a country feel. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  Kelly puffed out an exasperated breath. Sometimes Lilly’s exuberance for the opposite sex was contagious, but she had to keep her mind on business. Looking at cute guys on the Internet wouldn’t pay her bills. “It doesn’t really list any personal information on him. Not even contact information, which is weird. What artist doesn’t want to be contacted in case he gets a buyer?”

  Another three jelly beans disappeared into Lilly’s mouth. “Sounds like he’s hiding something to me.”

  Kelly laughed. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? Besides, it gives him an air of mystery.”

  “Okay. Then you tell me. Why doesn’t he want anyone to get hold of him?”

  She squinted at the screen as though peering at it would make more information appear. “Well, it could be a simple error on the part of the website. Or maybe he’s in transition and doesn’t have a permanent address yet. Then again, like I said, maybe it’s a ploy. If he seems more mysterious, then people want to buy more of his work. Or maybe he’s just a bit eccentric. A lot of artists are kind of funny that way.”

  “I guess. But my bet’s still that he’s hiding something. Ooh, maybe he’s part of the Witness Protection Program.”

  “Right. He’s hiding out in plain sight.”

  “Who’s that guy in the photo with him?” Lilly put her finger on top of the man standing next to Damon in the publicity shot.

  “That’s his brother.” He looked like Damon, with the same dark eyes and dark hair. His body, too, was the type men usually got when they worked out several hours a day.

  “Wow. That’s two hunks that could make me cream my panties.”

  Kelly feigned a shocked expression. “Girl, the things you say.” She fluttered her hand in front of her face like a fan and adopted a Southern belle accent. “Fiddle-dee-dee. Do watch how you speak when a lady is present.”

  Lilly put a jelly bean on the desk, flicked it with her finger, and sent it shooting at Kelly. “I’ll do that, Miss Scarlett, as soon as I’m done birthing the frickin’ babies. What’s with your fascination with the South anyway?”

  Kelly snagged the jelly bean out from between her cleavage, popped it into her mouth, and shrugged. “What can I say? My aunt was a big Scarlett O’Hara fan. Besides, there’s something about that era when men were real men and women could let them be men without worrying about having to pay half the dinner bill.”

  Her favorite aunt had passed away the year before, and she’d left Kelly a few thousand dollars, her beat-up Toyota pickup truck, and her DVD of the classic movie Gone with the Wind.

  “Okay, enough with the history lesson. Go on. Does it say anything about his brother?”

  Kelly read the next bit of information. “Let’s see. His brother’s name is Jude Darrington, and he owns a large cattle ranch as well as quarter horses. Apparently, he likes horse racing and has his own horses and riders. He’s also big on giving to charities.”

  Lilly rubbed her index finger and her thumb together. “I smell old money, honey. Maybe we should start our own charity. You know, the SILF club.”

  “The what?”

  “The SILF. The Singles I’d Like to Fuck club.”

  “I should’ve known that’s where you’d take this.”

  Lilly wiggled her eyebrows then started sorting a handful of jelly beans into piles of different colors. “What else does it say?”

  “Not much. Just that the brothers own a couple of homes in Passion as well as in other towns around the country.”

  “Yep, they’ve definitely got money. That also solves the mystery about Damon.”

  Kelly bookmarked the site. “How?”

  “He’s already got a lot of money, so he doesn’t care about selling his work. His photography is obviously a labor of love.”

  Kelly clicked on a couple of the photographs Damon had taken. “No wonder his photographs are so amazing. I can’t remember when I’ve seen better photos.”

  “Look at you. All of a sudden you’re an expert. Or is it that you think these guys are hot, too? Do you have a Google crush on the Darrington darlings?”

  “Right, Lilly. I scope out guys and fall in love with them before ever meeting them. Can you say pathetic?” Yet she couldn’t shake the idea that Lilly was at least partially correct. If anyone could make her have an instant crush, it was the Darrington brothers.

  She clicked off the site, scooped up her keys, and headed for the door. “Come on, Beany. Let’s grab a bite to eat and head over to the festival.”

  “Sure. We could use my discount if you want.”

  She cringed and was thankful her friend was behind her and didn’t see it. “Uh, no thanks. I’m not in the mood for vegan. How about a nice American hot dog at the festival? My treat.”

  “Urgh. No thanks. I’m not polluting my body with that stuff.”

  “Yeah, right. I saw you down two cupcakes the other day. Besides, when did jelly beans become a health food?” She held the door open for Lilly then closed and locked it.

  “We all have our vices. Mine’s sugar, Miss I-Drown-Myself-In-Caffeine-Every-Day. Just don’t let my boss Bruce know that’s where I got my nickname.”

  “Don’t worry. He won’t hear it from me.” She didn’t bother trying to use the elevator. Since she’d moved into the building several months earlier, she’d never seen the thing run. But that was part of the charm of the old building. Instead, she led the way down the stairs and out into the bright sunshine.

  * * * *

  Damon Darrington was way better looking in real life than in the photograph on the Internet. So handsome, in fact, that she almost couldn’t get up the nerve to approach him. If she hadn’t had the assignment due in her editor’s in-box soon, she would’ve chickened out and skirted the art booths around him, spying from the sidelines. Handsome men had always made her uneasy even though they were often attracted to her. Lilly, however, who found it difficult to attract men, had no problem approaching the mysterious photographer.

  Lilly was front and center and thrusting out her hand to him before Kelly could grab her. “Hi, I’m Lilly Beanston, and this”—she turned, widened her eyes at Kelly, and tugged her forward—“is my friend Kelly Sims. She’d like to interview you for an article she’s writing.”

  Damon rose from the stool he’d been sitting on and shook Lilly’s hand. His dark gaze flicked from Lilly to Kelly, raising her blood pressure. Forcing herself not to shy away, she offered him her hand. He took it, capturing her hand between both of his.

  Oh, hell, he feels good. Firm, but not too firm, grip and rough hands showing he isn’t afraid of hard work. He knows how to shake a woman’s hand without
seeming like a wimp or a brute.

  She bit her tongue and hoped she hadn’t voiced her reaction out loud. If his hand felt that good, what would his body feel like?

  But what was the extra sensation tingling just under her skin? She searched his face and saw his eyes widen then narrow. Did he feel it, too?

  She hated to, but she took her hand from his and gave him her card. “Hi. Um, yeah, Lilly’s right. I freelance for the local paper, The Passion Pen. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

  He glanced at the card, put it in his back pocket, and made her wait to hear if the voice matched his face, his body, and his touch. “Would you have a few minutes to answer a few questions? Before the crowds start arriving? Right now, it’s just a few early birds like us.”

  Lilly glanced from Damon then to Kelly. “Um, I’m feeling like a third wheel here, so I’m off to find the funnel cakes. Back in a sec.”

  She zeroed in on Kelly. “Don’t be afraid to do exactly what you think I’d do, okay?”

  With a metallic grin, she whirled on her heel and dashed toward the concession stands. Kelly suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  “What’s the article about?”

  His voice was melodic and held the barest hint of a Southern accent. Damn, how I love a Southern boy.

  “Oh, uh, I’m covering the festival and featuring a few of its artists. I saw some of your photographs on a gallery’s website, and I have to admit, I couldn’t stop looking at them.”

  Kind of like he can’t seem to stop looking at me.

  “Thanks.” He stared at her, confusion and curiosity mixing together in the way his eyebrows slid toward his nose.

  A five-o’clock stubble graced his strong jaw and outlined the full yet masculine lips. Did he always go unshaven? If her memory was right, he’d had the stubble in the photo she’d seen. Usually, she didn’t like an unshaven man, but on him, it worked. It worked so well that she had to resist reaching out and running her palm over his chin.

  She turned toward the photographs he had hanging inside his tent. Every one featured a woman, and yet they all held an ethereal essence that transfixed her and made her wish she could be one of them. As she’d seen on the website, his subjects varied in age. One was of a young girl no older than five who held her doll, her big eyes luminous in the black-and-white scene. The next photograph showed an old woman, her faces wrinkled and aged with life’s experiences along with a good deal of exposure to the sun’s rays. But her eyes shone as brightly as the young girl’s did.