The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) Page 13

  He sat straighter and looked over at me. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did he – did you –“

  “He was a client of mine. It’s how we met.” I toyed with the edge of the sweater, where a piece of the yawn was starting to fray. “I think after you he didn’t want to date anyone who could hide any secrets from him – so he went for people whose problems were all on the table. Or the mattress.” I snorted softly.

  “How did that happen to you?” He sounded mystified – and sorry for me.

  “Same way it happens to anyone.” I shrugged off his concern, feeling some of my old armor coming back. “Bad luck, bad planning, wrong place wrong time. My parents had me late – by the time they died in a car accident, my grandparents were already gone. I went to foster care, it sucked, and then, well – I found out I could dance. I made good money dancing for a while, until my car was in an accident and I broke my leg. Basically, cars have it out for me.”

  “Good thing I have a truck,” he interrupted.

  I smiled, still looking down at my hands. “Yeah. So. A friend of mine did some escorting on the side, and once I healed up enough I did too. But then the recession hit, and –“ I shrugged, leaving the rest to his imagination.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Don’t be. It got me to Vincent – and I don’t regret a second of my time with him.” I hazarded looking over at him. I expected to find pity, maybe even scorn, but saw sympathy instead.

  “You do what you gotta do to get by,” he said, and I nodded.

  “Yeah. Always.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Halfway through her story I found the strength to let her go.

  Letting her use herself – letting her use me – after what she’d been through – I’d been thinking with my wolf’s urges instead of my heart. It had to stop, now, while I was still in control of me.

  I parked the truck and she helped me make the three trips up the ridge with all of our stuff, then looked at me and smiled. “What’s next?”

  I pitched my truck keys at her and she caught them without thinking. “Those are for you.” I made my voice flat and unyielding, and her expression clouded instantly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I pointed at the bag she was carrying. “Take the rest of the money and the book and go. Call the Marshall and get the fuck out of my life.”

  “But –“

  I gestured towards the door.

  “I’m not leaving you! You can’t make me!”

  “I’m leaving you – and I can.” I stood up to my full height, making myself seem bigger than I was, more menacing. “Take off, Sam.”

  “But we had a plan, and we have all these guns, and –“

  “Go.” I let shades of my wolf through, I could hear it in my voice, using its frustration with my manskin side to color the tone I was using with her.

  “But --” she protested.

  “This is my place. And my fight. Go.”

  Her hands clenched in impotent fists. “None of those guys meant anything to me, Max – they didn’t, I swear –“

  “Go,” I commanded again. My voice rumbled with authority, and I saw her take a step back toward the door, cowed. Some animal part of her knew that she should run.

  “I can still be your mate – I know how to be true –“

  “Go!” I shouted at her, half a roar, and started lunging for her like I was going to throw her out myself – or tear her in half and eat her organs.

  She screamed instinctively and ran for the door. I closed it behind her, and leaned against it. “Fuck you, Max!” she shouted when she was safely outside. “We had a plan! We were a team!”

  She beat her frustration out on the closed door, and I didn’t dare answer her, no matter how much my wolf wanted to howl back.

  After I heard the truck race off, I felt like I could breathe.

  I’d scared her away. My only chance at mating, gone. This was why I wasn’t an alpha – clearly I was an idiot.

  But I’d finally done the right thing. It would be cold comfort when I was getting torn into pieces tomorrow night, but it’d still be right. I kicked a bag of silver jewelry gently. There was no way I could kill all of them – but I was going to make damned sure that I didn’t die alone. I reached into the bag from the hardware store, and pulled out gloves.

  I wound the silver chains across the teeth of traps, tacking it into place with messy gobs of silver solder, two windows of my cabin broken out to create a cross breeze for ventilation’s sake, and a respirator strapped tight across my face just in case.

  Almost-alpha, my wolf whined.

  Sorry, boy.

  I lost myself in my work, so that I could ignore what I’d just done.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stormed down the ridge. After everything I’d done for him today – he didn’t get to treat me like that. He was right, I’d take his shitty truck, I’d earned it, and I’d just go, drive for the horizon until I was almost out of gas. I didn’t need some mountain man’s revenge, I just needed the law.

  I looked around his truck, at the seat cushions impregnated with his blood, and remembered the way he’d been when he’d gotten back, after risking his life for me and Vincent.

  No. Fuck him, for ditching me. For judging me.

  That was what it was, right? It had to be. He’d wanted me up until I’d told him the truth. Vincent had never judged me for what I’d done.

  I pulled the truck into the outskirts of town, found a gas station, and tugged on my wig, in case anyone was around to see me make a phone call.

  I refused to go to voicemail. By my third call in a row, I got some irritated sounding secretary.

  “Yes?”

  “Is Marshall Bren there?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “I’d rather tell him myself.” The family had eyes and ears everywhere, and were well versed in bribes and threats.

  “Fine. Hang on.”

  A man’s voice came on the line. “This is Bren,” he said, sounding curt.

  How could I guarantee it was him? There was a long pause while my mind raced, thinking.

  “Hello?” he prompted.

  “Have there been any leads in the Vincent Depolo murder?”

  “You’d have to ask homicide,” he said, sounding as annoyed as the receptionist had. “Wait – how did you get this number?”

  “How do you think I got it?”

  His voice went low. “Someone told you to call.”

  “They did.”

  “Hang on.” There was a rustling in the background, a desk drawer being opened and closed again. “How can I help you?”

  “It’s more me helping you. I have something I want to turn in.”

  “Might I suggest that you get the fuck out of town and then mail it to me, express?”

  “I wish that were an option, but it’s not.” I felt better about talking to him now, though. No one who wanted to catch me or the book would try to send me away.

  “You do understand how dangerous –“

  “I do. Is it safe to talk?”

  Another pause. “Yes.”

  “Tomorrow night. Meet me at Rider Plaza, at midnight.”

  “Daylight’s safer.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “How will I know you?”

  “You won’t.”

  “How will you know me?”

  “Easy. You’ll be the one who looks like a cop.” I hung up after that. There was a slim chance that the Marshall’s phone was bugged, or that it was somehow tracing me – he’d be there, or not, and Max’s plan would be in full swing. I trotted back to the truck and drove off.

  I wound through country roads until I was almost out of gas and then fueled up again. I had to stay in town until tomorrow night to make the exchange – Max hadn’t thought about that when he’d kicked me out, unless he’d meant for me to be smart and go far away before calling in. He should’ve known that I wasn’t –
or that anytime I was, my luck didn’t hold.

  One hand found the locket on my chest. I’d been lucky for seven years in a row. That was a lot longer than some people got. The girls I’d left behind at Ray’s – I was sure half of them were dead of ODs or had rap sheets as long as my arm.

  Without thinking – or because I was thinking too hard -- I’d come almost full circle around town, just as the sun began to set. I was only a few miles from the turn off to go back to the forest where Max was, trying to turn himself and the surrounding forest into a one-man army.

  He didn’t have a chance without me. I knew it. He never would have shown me what he was last night, if he hadn’t felt compelled to – he’d been embarrassed afterwards, and like a bitch I’d let him be, because I was embarrassed too. He’d been forced to show me all of his secrets in the space of 72 hours, whereas I’d been holding all of mine in reserve. No wonder Vincent hated hiding things so much. It put the person being honest at a terrible disadvantage.

  I stopped at an empty four way intersection that didn’t have a light. The only car there, I let the truck idle while I thought, hard.

  And then I turned right.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I put my odds at getting half of the pack out of commission with the spring-guns and the traps, which’d leave me four to fight on my own – including Syd.

  Almost alpha! my wolf growled, making its opinion of Syd known.

  Not anymore, I informed him. Not with Sam gone.

  I’d finished soldering – I’d put the traps out tomorrow on the trails the pack was likely to take in, and then I’d bait them further with things that smelled like her. She’d walked around in my sweater long enough for it to have her musk, and the pack already knew her scent. I hoped they’d be so eager to find her that they’d take risks – and the whole cabin smelled like her. If I left the front door open and blew out the stove they’d have to send someone in to check it out. I hammered in the nails that I’d spin out trip wire on tomorrow. Someone was getting a silver slug in them by the end of the night. Hopefully Syd.

  As for the rest of the guns – I spent the next few hours pulling apart shotgun shells and reassembling them with bits of silver tossed in, while wearing gloves. They’d have to get blasted close, for the fragments to get past their fur and thick skin – but a wolf would have a hard time gnawing a deep splinter of silver out before it poisoned them. And if I was lucky and shot it someplace good and soft, like into their nose or eyes – well, the whole night was going to require a lot of luck.

  When I next looked up the sun was down, and I could feel the moon’s quiet pull, urging my furskin out. My wolf would like that too – to race around the forest, making himself known after the indignity I’d put him through today by chasing Sam off. He didn’t understand rightness – he was, after all, an animal.

  I stood up and felt my back pop and made my way out to the porch. The night was serene, like it’d been every night for the past seven years. Except for her smell, it was like she’d never been here.

  I wished that there’d been another way, that I’d have been smart enough to think of one. I breathed in deep again and again, as if by scenting her and doing so, I could keep part of her inside of me.

  And then – my wolf beat its tail, knowing her before I did.

  Sam, we thought in unison.

  Not old smells from behind us – but new fresh ones, carried in on the night’s breeze.

  She was here. For us. Knowing what that meant.

  And yet –

  My wolf whined and pulled inside of me, trying to get out or take control. I wrestled with it, just like Jacob did the Angel, except I lost.

  Maybe on purpose.

  My feet left the porch of their own accord and started walking into the forest. A quarter mile away I changed into all fours.

  I found the first tree as the moon began to rise. It smelled like her sex and I licked at the bark, and then ran my cheek over it, wanting to rub the smell of her into my fur.

  The next tree, and the next -- I galloped along on her trail, growing more excited with every step, every heartbeat thudding blood into my loins.

  I saw her before she saw me – a pale goddess under the moon’s dusky glow – and I leapt into the clearing where she was before I thought to stop myself. She whirled and covered her hand with her mouth, so as not to scream.

  I fought to sit there, chest heaving, muscles bunched. I knew we didn’t want to scare her, she wasn’t were, but my wolf’s urges – he’d never been like this, I’d never felt him pull so hard before, so desperate to get out and mount her.

  She took a tentative step toward us, then another, and whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

  Was I? No one but other packmembers had ever seen me as a wolf before, and I’d never seen my wolf in a mirror. I fought to watch her as a man. Did she know what she was doing? Did she know what she was going to let us do?

  My haunches tensed, ready to leap upon her and knock her to the ground and rut her --

  Then she snapped her fingers by her thighs, like I was a lapdog. Bemused, my wolf trotted forward, instead of rolling her to the ground.

  It wasn’t too late, I could change into a man again and send her away.

  But as I stood still beside her, two hundred pounds of muscle and fur, claws and fangs, I felt her put her hand atop my head. One finger traced the fur of an eyebrow and then she became more bold, stroking her whole hand over one ear.

  I leaned into her, intoxicated by the contact. This was how it was supposed to happen. What it was supposed to be. She raked her fingers through the thicker fur of my back and I shivered bodily, then wound around her, leaning into her, seeking more of her touch.

  And then I knew without knowing that the moon was above the treeline. I could feel its light land on me like another hand.

  It was time.

  I sat back again. If she ran now I couldn’t promise anything, but if she chose to just turn around and walk away calmly, my wolf would understand. I could still make him.

  But she looked up at the moon and then back down at me.

  “Now, Max,” she breathed, and inside my wolf took control.

  We changed. Furskin in, manskin out, I heard her gasp to watch the transition – but I wasn’t in charge anymore. I could see what he was doing, smell, taste, touch it, but it was like I was in a glass box, unable to change the course.

  This had happened before. I knew if I concentrated I could break the glass and take over – but that would ruin this for him. For us both. For all three of us, if this mating was to take, and make beating Syd a real thing. So I fought to control myself, just let go, and appreciate him appreciating her.

  He stood in my skin, triumphant, looking out at her with his golden eyes. We were as naked as she was, and all our blood was rushing low to inflate our shared cock.

  He grabbed her and she gasped. His tongue wanted to taste all of her, so that she hid nothing from him – he licked from her collarbone out to her shoulder and felt her tremble under his hands like prey, delicious prey.

  Don’t run Sam, don’t run --

  She stilled and the moment passed. He drew his face along her skin, breathing her in deep, groping at her ass with one hand while the other brought her breast to his mouth roughly. After he licked them her nipples went hard, and he noticed this, too, licking over their pebbly roughness again and again, with the need of an animal, not a man. She wrapped her arms around his back and tried to kiss him, but he growled – kissing was not for wolves, even in human form.

  I felt her tense. So far, we’d been rough, but growling was an inhuman sound, there was no way to pretend that it’d come from our throat. Her hands fluttered in the air and then found our back again.

  Just hold on. Everything will be all right if you just hold on, I wished I could tell her – wishing I was sure it wasn’t a lie.

  My wolf’s attention wandered down her body. We nuzzled the underside of her breasts, feeling the weight of
them give, lapped across her stomach, holding her hips in place with strong hands. Slowly, tasting every inch of skin along the way, we knelt in front of her and pushed her legs open, exposing herself to us.

  It was the very center of her, what we had scented all this time, when we’d known we’d wanted to mount her, hard. Hands pressed up and pushed her thighs apart and we buried our face against her pussy.

  “Oh, God –“ she breathed above us, rocking back. Her hands wound into our hair and pulled to stay upright as we licked and sucked, wanting to taste every drop of nectar she released. The noises we made would have been embarrassing if we weren’t so hungry for her – and if she wasn’t so hungry back.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered again, as our tongue parted her lips and pushed in. “Oh – God –“ she murmured, as we sucked on her clit.

  Our own cock was heavy on our thighs, achingly waiting, as her pussy began to swell, wetter than even we could lick away, and she started to pant and moan.

  My wolf knew in his animal way that it was time and pulled back. She swayed over us, eyes glazed out in bliss – and then she looked down, at her juices covering our face, at the heaviness of our ready cock. She knew what we wanted and she wanted it too. One hand on our shoulder, she made her way down to all fours, still facing us.

  She looked more like a wolf then, panting like she’d just run a race. I thought my wolf would spin her to take her there, ramming herself inside, God knew I wanted him too – but instead he lunged for her head and wound his hands in her wild hair.

  He infrequently got control – but he was always inside me, watching. He knew how good making her mouth fuck our cock would feel.

  He pulled her head down as he arched his hips up. Her lips found the head of our cock and let it push in. He whined then, thrusting up, and she kept her balance with her hands as her head rocked back and forth with the power of his thrusts. Her tongue rubbed the bottom of our cock as he pushed himself into the back of her, using her hair to ride her face as we made wild sounds. She made noises too, choked whimpers and gasping, but my wolf didn’t care – each time he slid almost all the way out, only to thrust back in, feeling her lips purse against our shaft while she sucked our head, hard, our balls swinging against her chin. Watching her, smelling her, the taste of her still on our tongue, feeling it as she sucked him – my wolf threw his head back and howled his pleasure to the night, before looking back down.