Circle of Desire (7 page)

They had a beautiful house in San Francisco with a garden far too neglected. Over the past few months, she’d tried suggesting that maybe Gwen should stay home every other mission, but her grandmother wasn’t having a bit of it. And the reason was
her
. They’d been together for close to thirty years—all her life, basically. Gwen wasn’t only her grandmother, but mother, confidante, and best friend. They were so close, it always felt wrong when they were apart for more than a few days.

But that wasn’t the problem. The truth was, Kat didn’t have anyone else to protect her, and Gwen had no other reason for life. It was an impasse they’d obviously have to resolve soon, before the arthritis totally destroyed Gwen’s quality of life.

After helping her grandmother into her nightie and then into bed, she checked the windows and locked the shutters. By that time, Gwen was asleep. Kat quietly cleaned up the breakfast mess, munching on the last cinnamon roll as she did so.

A shower and change of clothes followed. She needed sleep as well, but that wasn’t an option until
Ethan got back. She wasn’t about to leave the door open, and she could hardly expect him to wait outside while she and Gran snoozed. She ignored the imp slyly suggesting that wasn’t her only reason and grabbed a cushion off one of the sofas.

The day outside was cool, but the sun caressed the porch with warmth. She sat on the cushion and leaned back against the wall. The view wasn’t all that inspiring. Beyond her old Mustang there was only a thin expanse of concrete, then more connecting motel units—most of which were empty, which was strange, because it was awfully pretty here in winter. But maybe the news of the kidnappings was keeping the tourists away.

She closed her eyes.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept, or how long he’d sat there, watching her. The awareness of him surfaced slowly—a tingle that rose from her toes and spread gently through every fiber, until her breath caught in her throat.

Like her, he sat on the porch, leaning back against one of the posts supporting the porch railing, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His dark hair was damp, his jaw freshly shaved, and he looked damn fine in black jeans and a dark teal shirt.

“A Christmas present from your mother, huh?” she said, eyeing the shirt with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow. “That psychic intuition?”

His voice flowed over her, as warm as cocoa on a cold night. “I don’t know many men who’d walk into a store and buy a teal shirt. If you discount moms, Christmas, and birthdays, the only other options are wives or girlfriends.”

“Of which I have none.”

For which she was fiercely glad. “Because you’re a cop, or because you haven’t found the right woman?”

“Partially both, and partially neither.”

“In other words, you’re not saying?”

He shrugged. “What about yourself? No one waiting back in San Francisco?”

“You’ve been checking up on me.”

“I’m a cop. It’s what I do.”

Yeah, right
. As if the Springfield police department had the time to check the background details of everyone they came in contact with.

“I’m still waiting for a man who likes chocolate as much as I do.” She hesitated, then added impishly, “So where do you stand on the chocolate debate?”

“Can’t stand the stuff.”

She sighed dramatically. “Another dream crumbles to dust.”

Amusement touched the nut-brown depths of his eyes. “That mean we can’t have sex?”

“Hell,
no
.”

“Good.”

Their gazes locked. Her heart began to beat in triple time, and desire burned through her veins. She wanted this man; there was no denying that. But right here and now was hardly practical—on a porch or in a motel room with her grandmother sleeping in the next bed. Gran probably wouldn’t mind the noise, but the mere thought embarrassed the hell out of Kat.

“I need to sleep.”

“That’s a damn shame.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant and was reluctant to ask, simply because the line between
common sense and lust was thin enough. Too much more, and common sense hadn’t a hope.

She stood, gathering the cushion as she did. He rose with her, and suddenly the porch seemed far too small. She licked her lips, saw his gaze drop to her mouth, and her throat went dry. He took the step that separated them, and all she could smell was freshly soaped skin and raw masculinity.

Her whole body tingled, as if brought to life by this man’s presence. She’d never felt anything as powerful as this, and she so desperately wanted to make love to him. To feel his hands on her skin, his body on hers. In hers. Save for Gran being in the next bed …

“Gran’s asleep.” Her voice came out husky.

“I know.”

Their bodies barely brushed, yet she was intensely aware of every part of him. From the fire burning in his eyes to the rapid rise and fall of his chest pressing against her aching nipples to the heated hardness of his erection.

“We can’t. Not here.”

“I know.”

But he didn’t retreat, and neither did she. He brushed a hand down her side to her hip, then moved his fingers across her bare stomach, searing her skin with the heat. Then his touch moved up under her T-shirt, and her breath caught in anticipation. When his thumb rubbed one aching nipple, she almost groaned in ecstasy.

She swallowed hard and tried to stay sane. “What you’re doing could get us arrested.”

“Sure could.”

His attention moved to her other breast, and her
legs quivered. Even if she’d wanted to retreat, she very much doubted if her legs would support such an action. His other hand cupped her cheek and his thumb outlined her lips. Her heart stuttered to a stop as he slipped his hand around the back of her head, holding her still as he lowered his mouth to hers.

His kiss was like nothing she’d ever felt before. A gentle, erotic possession that gave so much and yet left her hungering for more.

“You’d better go inside,” he whispered, his breath hot and unsteady against her lips. “Because I want you so bad I’m tempted to finish this right here and now.”

She stepped back and suddenly remembered how to breathe again. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not pushing when you knew you could.”

His smile was a little wry. “Trust me when I say it’s little more than self-interest.”

“Meaning?”

He brushed his fingers down her cheek, and she had to check the urge to step right back into his arms.

“Meaning I have every intention of making love to you as often as I can over these next few days, and if I pushed now, that wouldn’t be likely to happen.”

His words did little to ease her heart’s unsteady pounding. “Self-preservation indeed.”

He shrugged. “I’m a werewolf caught in moon fever. I need sex. But it’s you I want this phase, no one else.”

Then she had to thank the moon’s presence, because without it she might not be standing here with
this man. Might not have the promise of mind-blowing sex to warm her dreams.

“Will you be able to sleep on the sofa, or would you prefer to take the bed?”

“I’m not going to be able to sleep anywhere.” His voice was ironic. “Not for a while yet.”

Her gaze flicked down. “Oh. Sorry.”

“I’m not.” He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Pleasant dreams.”

She had a feeling they would be beyond pleasant. As she headed inside, she thought she heard a sigh of disappointment coming from her grandmother’s bed.

W
ARMTH CARESSED HER FACE, WARMING HER SENSES
. K
AT
yawned and stretched, then opened her eyes. Her watch showed it was just past twelve. She hadn’t slept long enough, but it was all the time she could afford.

She found a clean shirt, dug up a skirt, then headed into the bathroom. By the time she’d showered and dressed, her grandmother was awake and sitting at the table reading the paper. Ethan had come inside and was on the sofa, talking into a cell phone. But his gaze met hers and the arousal was instant. The sooner they got down and dirty, the better off they’d both be.

She turned on the kettle, then crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the small counter. “The aches better?”

Gwen grinned and said softly, “Better than yours, I’d wager.”

“Don’t start on me. It’s likely to get unpleasant.”

“This is exactly what I was talking about. Totally disagreeable when unsatisfied.”

“Gran—”

Gwen held up her hand. “All I’m saying is these old ears are deafer than you think.”

“Yeah, right.” The woman had the hearing of an elephant. She just didn’t have the floppy ears to go with it.

The kettle whistled shrilly. Kat made them all a cup of coffee, handing one each to Gwen and Ethan before sitting down at the table with her own.

“So, have you tried to do a reading yet?”

“Briefly. You know how difficult it is when I’ve just woken.”

Kat nodded. “See anything of use?”

“One interesting point. It seems this thing knows about you and Ethan, but not yet about me, which is definitely in our favor.”

“But it doesn’t mean we don’t have to worry about your safety any less than our own.”

Gwen reached across the table and briefly squeezed Kat’s hand. “But if I’m not seen with you, then its thoughts will be concentrated on you rather than me, and perhaps give me a clear field in which to see its mind and know its intentions.”

They could only hope. “Even so, I want you to start using warding stones whenever we’re not here.”

Gwen nodded, then gave Ethan a smile as he sat down with them. “I also got a call from Seline. She thinks this thing is called a mara. It’s an ancient spirit who enters houses either as a cat or as vapor to seduce men in their sleep, then steal their souls.”

“It’s stealing souls, but it’s certainly not seducing men to do it.”

“Not that we are currently aware of, anyway. But Seline’s still digging around, so she might find a reason for the deviation in known behavior.”

“Seline being the head of this Damask Circle you work for?” Ethan queried.

“He’s a cop,” Kat said with a smile. “They tend to dig.”

“They do indeed.” Gwen’s gaze was amused as she looked at Ethan. “And yes, she is.”

“Did she give you any idea how to stop this thing?”

“Not yet, but if it’s some sort of vampire, then we could try all the traditional methods of killing a vampire.”

Ethan’s expression shut down. “I said stop, not kill. This thing has to be brought to justice and face trial.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Gwen said. “And besides, no court or jailhouse currently built could ever hope to hold this thing.”

“You know, I think white ash works against it,” Kat said, remembering the soul-sucker’s reaction in the warehouse. “I think I wounded it when I slashed it with the stake.”

Ethan’s expression was incredulous. Gwen patted his hand. “Don’t worry, dear, it’s going to get a lot worse.” She leaned back in her chair. “I think I might try a little scrying.”

Kat rose and retrieved Gwen’s crystal, then nudged Ethan and nodded in the direction of the sofa. He rose and walked over. She sat down opposite him. Anything else just wasn’t safe.

“So,” she said, “who were you talking to on the phone?”

His gaze was doing a slow tour of her body, lingering appreciably on her bare legs. She hugged a pillow close to her chest and wondered at her sanity in choosing a skirt over jeans. This man had her hotter than hell.

“Nosy type, aren’t you?” His amusement glimmered briefly at her actions.

“It’s a gene all women are born with. You going to answer the question?”

“I was getting an update from my partner. Preliminary analysis confirms a large dog gnawed the bones. They believe it was only one, not a pack.”

“Which is what I saw.” She looked at her grandmother and saw her unfocused expression. The scrying appeared to be working again. “I don’t suppose they have any indication of the time of death?”

He studied her for a moment. “Why is that important, beyond the obvious?”

She hesitated, wondering how much she should say. But it was probably better to be cautious than to give him a sliver of hope—and then have it dashed. After all, the fact that his niece might have three days was little more than guesswork on their part. “Because it would give us an idea how long this thing is keeping the kids before it kills them.”

“They won’t know until later today. Mark will call me as soon as he can.”

She nodded. “Did you tell him you’ve joined us?”

“No. The less he knows in that regard, the better. If the hammer falls, I don’t want to take him out as well.”

“So what reason did you give for suddenly disappearing?”

His smile made her breath catch. “I said I’d met a pretty lady and intended to do nothing more than have incredible sex for the next few days.”

Her pulse leaped into overdrive. “And do you?”

His smile was a wicked promise of things to come. She shifted slightly and resisted the temptation to fan her face.

“Whenever I can.”

His voice was rich and husky and conjured images of those sheets again. Though even the floor would have done right now.

“And your partner didn’t think this a strange deviation from a man who has no one in his life?”

“No one
permanent
. I’m a werewolf, not a monk.”

“So when the moon rises, you’re not overly fussy?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never sunk to prostitutes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She wasn’t, and in many regards, it didn’t really matter. He was here, she was horny, and if they could find the time and space, it could be damn well perfect between them. Did it matter how many different partners he’d had? She’d certainly had more than her fair share over the last ten years, despite her grandmother’s recent insinuations that she was in danger of becoming a reborn virgin.

“What about yourself?” he said. “Why aren’t you married and home safe with a kid or two? Why are you running around risking your life chasing madmen? Or madwomen?”

She gave him a deadpan look. “The barefoot-and-pregnant ideal went out a long time ago, Detective.”