Dangerous (7 page)

“No, it’s understandable. I thought for a second…. Never mind.” All the tension in her body went with it, but the buzz from the fear remained, guaranteeing she wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight. “It’s the television in my room. I have lights and stuff on a timer when I go to the office, so people don’t know if I’m home or not.”

Xander sat back on his heels, scowling. “You put your television and lights on a timer when you go out, so people don’t know if you’re here? Paranoid much?”

“Me?” She rose up on her elbows and took in the mess around them. Bits and pieces of an end table lay scattered about. Her sofa sagged in the middle, the frame certainly snapped. And he called her paranoid? I guess having a stalker made her act differently, but certainly not paranoid. “And just what did you think was after us, Xan? You do realize you broke my couch.”

“Collateral damage.” Hey eyed the busted sofa. “A tough job, but somebody had to save the world from that crime of bad taste.”

“You think I have bad taste?”

“No, I think you’re color blind.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “But a very cute color blind.”

“You are a very bad Wolf. Humor and flattery won't get you out of explaining this.” She swept her hand around her living room. “So, what happened?”

“Are you trying to shrink my brain again?”

Liv snorted.
Seriously?
Shrink his brain?
“What? Do I look like I have some kind of alien ray gun for downsizing my abductees? I hate when people use that term. I don’t shrink shit. I’m only trying to figure out why the hell you busted up my front room, and who knows what other rooms in my house. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a pink sofa?”

“I thought you called it fuchsia.”

“It is. Back to the question, Mr. Davis.”

Xan shook his head and frowned. “I’m sorry. I’ll pay for it as soon as I can return to work and earn some money. I seem to be stacking up a mountain of debt around here.” He shoved his hand into his hair. “The sound from the other room woke me up, surprised me. I…have…. Never mind.” He looked at the floor, and she couldn’t have felt like a bigger bitch for yelling at him. She’d trained to handle stuff like this.

Yeah, real professional, Liv.
“Can we start over? Forget the couch. I can order another—sometime.”

“I think I should leave. Let me out of this promise, Liv. I’m not good for you, and it’s not safe for me to be here. When I lose it, I really lose it, and I’m not sure I won’t hurt you if I black out.”

“You won’t. You promised. Besides, I’m the one person who can help you. I know what you are, and you’re safe to talk with me.”

“I’m aware.” His expression went from calm to pissed in two point one seconds. He crawled toward her. Liv gasped. “Humans shouldn’t even know we exist. Who told you about us?”

“I just know. Why does this upset you so much?” The urge to scramble away came over her, but running from an angry wolf—not her best option. She forced herself to remain still. “Talk to me, Xan.”

“What would you know about being a wolf,” he snarled. “You’re human.”

“No, I’m a coyote.”

He couldn’t have looked more shocked if she’d slapped him. Without a word, he grabbed her legs and slid her under him to where he straddled her hips. “What did you say?” He released her with his hands, but held her pinned with his gaze, daring her to move.

“I’m a coyote,” she squeaked.

He braced his palms on either side of her head while he leaned over her, sniffing from her shoulder to her ear. Stopping next to her jugular. His breathing, ragged, labored.

“Xan?” Her pulse raced, throbbing in her neck. The
whoosh, whoosh, whoosh
of her blood filled her ears.
Stay calm.

“I don’t smell an animal.” The words were so soft, chills exploded across her skin. He lifted his face, but not his body, this time he looked her in the eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not. Nobody but my sister knows this. I stopped being a shifter as a child. Even the Alpha thinks I’m human.”

“Impossible.” Confusion creased his face. “Isn’t it? Can you stop being what you were born? Does it just go away?”

“I don’t know. I hoped by living around the pack, my ability to shift would somehow come back, but I’ve been here for months and nothing has changed. I know what I am. I just don’t know why I stopped being it.”

“Me either,” he mumbled. “I can’t shift anymore.”

Liv nodded. “I know.” His admission said a lot. Now they were getting somewhere. Dragon number two just went down in flames. It certainly explained why he walked with a limp and his mind hadn’t healed. Shifting would have helped, maybe not cured, but helped. “That’s why you’re here. You are hoping something about this place will heal you.”

“Something about this place is healing me.” He turned his face slightly, his lips a scant inch from hers. It would take nothing to claim her with a kiss. Her heart thumped, pounding so hard it hurt. “I want you,” he said.

So do I
. “I can’t. Not with a patient.”

“Then, you’re fired.” He gave her a dangerous smile, the kind that said he wanted to devour every last inch of her. Perhaps the word “want” didn’t describe the hunger she saw in his face. Raw. Unquenchable. An empty pit of bottomless need.

Her breath staggered the way she’d stumble, were she on her feet. “You can’t fire me. You didn’t hire me.”

“This isn’t one-sided. I can smell your arousal.”

No sense in denying it; it wouldn’t change anything. God, a fraction of an inch and his lips would touch hers. “Yes, but I can’t do this. Please, for reasons I don’t want to get into, get off.”

And then he vanished. His heat vacant from her body, his presence absent from the room. Down the hall, a door slammed and something crashed into the wall, most likely her dollar-store vase she kept them in every room. When smashed to the floor or against a wall, they made noise. Those sounds saved her life once before, and very likely, would again, if her stalker ever found her.

Shit!
She should have made him promise not to wreck her house, too.

It had taken her years to recover from the assault. Terrance felt their sessions were some kind of deeper connection, as though he’d entered into a relationship with her. After a couple of years of therapy, she cut him loose, told him he no longer needed her services. And she’d diagnosed him ready to move on. Shortly after, he asked her out. She should have declined, but she’d grown close to him, felt she knew him.

She didn’t.

His true nature made an appearance three weeks after she’d started seeing him. First jealousy. He accused her of fucking her male patients and insisted she not see them professionally. Then violence, mood swings, where he’d rage and throw things. It only took once for him to hit her before she broke it off.

Soon, the stalking started. He would show up at her work. Favorite restaurants. Call her family. Friends. Anyone she knew when she didn’t answer her phone. A trip to the police station and she had a restraining order, which she soon learned it amounted to a worthless piece of paper.

When Terrance broke in to her home, he waited for her to enter and then pounced. He’d tried to rape her, ripping her clothing and smacking her around. When she bit and scratched him, he’d slammed the KA-BAR to the hilt in her chest. Lucky for her, her neighbors heard the commotion and called the police. When the sirens drew closer, Terrance fled, leaving her a beaten, bloody pile on the kitchen floor.

The police never apprehended him. He simply vanished, and she’d found herself constantly looking over her shoulder, rigging her house so no one ever knew when she was home, taking different routes to work, avoiding anything routine. Ever since the attack, she kept her distance from her patients—even when they no longer needed her. It had been stupid to get involved in the first place, and she promised herself she’d never do it again.

Xan would be no different. She couldn’t—wouldn’t open that door again. Liv climbed to her feet and picked up a couple pieces of the smashed table. She opened the front door and tossed it onto the small patch of grass beside the steps.

She blew out a breath. This all felt too familiar, as though history would repeat itself. Yes, she felt the attraction. Yes, she had reason to avoid any kind of personal relationship, yet she found herself wondering if they could work.

Hadn’t she learned her lesson the first time? She tossed another chunk of broken furniture out. Yeah, she knew what needed to be done. She’d call her sister and have her send her brother-in-law and a couple of the other Wolves to collect the couch in the morning. After she spoke to Kayla, she’d call Drew and tell him he’d have to get someone else because she’d decided to move to Hot Springs. Better a broken couch than broken bones…or worse. This had been her wakeup call.

He’d sniffed her to prove a point and, in doing so, discovered a truth better left buried. Something his subconscious had seemed to know. The whole reason Ryker warning him to keep his distance sent him over the edge. The more he thought about it, the more he began to think the Enforcer marked the tree just to test him, see if what he believed were true. And if Ryker knew, Drew certainly did. It would explain why they left her alone with him, when even he couldn’t come up with a good reason. No set of cuffs or stun gun would stop him if he blacked out and went crazy. No, they left him with her because a Wolf would never hurt his mate. A Wolf would rather die first. Drew hadn’t gambled with Liv’s safety; he’d known Xan wouldn’t harm a hair on her head.

He reached into his pocket and extracted the small but powerful Taser Liv had carried until a couple of days before. Somewhere, deep inside, she’d known he wouldn’t hurt her. He smiled and tightened his grip on the Taser, crushing it. Damn Alpha played him.

His doctor, the woman who made him promise to not hurt himself or any other, might not have figured it out yet. Her rejection, even when he scented she wanted him, hurt. Yes, he could have pushed it, and she’d have given in, but he didn’t.

She’d come to him when ready, especially since she laid claim to an animal and should feel the connection as he had. It didn’t make it any easier to swallow, and he hoped the vase with the fake fuchsia poppies didn’t cost a lot. He’d lost it for a second, but better on a glass container than on someone, especially a female fated to be his. His ability to control his rage and redirect it when away from her, only demonstrated more she belonged to him.

Xan sat on the bed, curling and opening his fingers, feeling the blood rush back to his joints each time he released them from the tight ball. He eyed the door.

“Yes, but I can’t do this. Please, for reasons I don’t want to get into, get off.”

Liv hid something. He’d never forget the haunted look in her eyes. He’d seen the same expression staring back from his own reflection. Something happened to her, something that pushed her away from relationships—from him.

Maybe she was as broken as he. He eyed the door again. Whether she wanted it or not, Liv belonged to him, and he would eventually make her his in body and soul.

He cocked his head and listened. Liv cleaned the mess he made. His stomach knotted. Would it always be like that? He’d make a mess, and she’d pick up the pieces? Finding his mate couldn’t have come at a worse time in his life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t pick or choose. He got up, cleaned the broken vase, dumped it into a wastebasket, and then went back to the front room to see Liv dragging the sofa toward the door. Her unique scent of orange blossoms, clove, and cinnamon wafted toward him, drawing him closer.
Dammit, woman. What the hell do you think you’re doing?

“Let me….” He reached to grab the end of the sofa to stop her.

The arm came free, and she flew backward and knocked herself in the face with the broken piece. “Shit,” she muttered and dropped the chunk, cupping her hand over her nose. Blood spurted between her fingers. Xan snagged her and pulled her over to the sink, then grabbed a dishtowel to staunch the flow.

“Tip your head back.” He pinched her nose and held the fabric there. “You know, you could have asked for help, or better yet, let me clean my mess.”

“Right.” Her voice came back muffled through the towel. “From the person who made the mess in the first place? You’re really good at destroying things. First Gee’s Bar, now my place. You have some big issues, and I’m not sure I know where to even begin.”

“How about here. I don’t know how to explain it, so I’ll just tell you what it is I’m going through. Okay? Don’t try to analyze it, just listen.”

“Mm-kay.”

“I worked for the Company.”

“Holy
cwap
. The CIA?” The way she said it with her nose pinched off had him smiling. How much more adorable could she be? It made him want to protect her. Her eyes grew round. “Kayla was right. You aren’t the fuzzy-kitty and fluffy-bunny kind of gwuy.”

“No, I’m not. I belonged to a secret branch. You need to listen.” He tipped her face back up and continued to hold the towel in place.

“Sowrry.”

“The Company sent me on an assignment in Africa. While there, a warlord name Ajani captured me. For ten months, his people tortured me in ways you cannot begin to imagine. They knew I’m a Wolf and wanted to use my secret to extract classified information from me.”

Liv gasped but didn’t say a word.

“They tried to force me to shift. Told me they were going to film it. Got their rocks off on it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I gave my Alpha my word.” He held her gaze. “Because of my promise to Magnum, I lost the ability to shift and heal.”

“How did you get away from these shifters?”

“Let’s get one thing straight right now. They’re not shifters. They have no soul. They’re demons, and you can’t fight them in animal form. The only way to fight them is as a human. And because of that, I’m alive and free. If they’d beat me at night, they would have finished me off; hell, I’d probably be in pieces all over Africa.

“They can change into any animal they want. They don’t need a full moon, but they are limited to one shift in daylight, and must remain in whatever form they assumed until dark. My guard chose a human form, and it’s how I got away while the others slept. I’ve had a great deal of hand-to-hand combat training. I proved to be more than she could handle as a human.