Elizabeth's Wolf (24 page)

“Next time you come over me like that you better be naked,” he growled.

“Next time, I’m going to stomp your balls for being so insulting,” she snapped back.

He had no doubt she would. If she got the chance.

He lifted her off him then rose to his feet as she stood, watching him in triumph. “You did good. Not good enough, but good.”

She breathed out roughly.

“Not good enough?” She placed her hands on her hips as she watched with a frown. “I got you. Fair and square. How is that not good enough?”

“Because I trust you and I have the added handicap of being so damned hot to fuck you I can’t consider you a threat just yet. Bad move on my part. I won’t make that mistake again.” Damned if his pride could handle it.

They had been working for most of the morning. He had dragged her out of bed before dawn, marched her to the top of the rise above the cabin and told her to wait before heading back down. On the way up, he had taught her how to move through the brush, keeping her steps light, her breathing slow and easy. How to pace herself, time her steps, and move without causing a ripple of sound.

Not that he had expected her to pick it up as well as she had. She had actually surprised him. But she could be better. If his instincts were right, she had the potential to move as silently as any hunter ever born. And she was willing to work for what she needed to know. That was imperative. Elizabeth understood that she needed what Dash was teaching her, just as Dash himself was aware of it.

“That’s a poor excuse,” she finally grunted before turning and heading back to the front of the cabin. “I need a shower and breakfast. I’ll try it again after I’ve thought about it.”

She was rolling her shoulders, her voice was thoughtful, as though something had come to her that she wasn’t quite certain of, and her ass was filling those jeans out like a dream.

Dash grimaced as his dick throbbed and his lust seemed to hit peak level. He hadn’t touched her since the night at Mike’s ranch. The rushed departure, exhausting flight and the journey to the cabin had been made in less than twenty-four hours. They had both collapsed into the bed and slept like the dead as soon they had eaten a hastily prepared meal.

Training had begun yesterday as soon as they left the cabin and by the time he nearly carried her back into the cabin last night, he had known sex wouldn’t be at the top of her list of priorities. But it was rising quickly to his.

He watched her disappear into the bedroom of the small cabin, and minutes later heard the shower turn on full force. He put together a quick breakfast: two large, filled omelets, fried potatoes and orange juice. Fresh coffee brewed on the counter and by the time she walked out of the bedroom nearly thirty minutes later, he was setting it on the table.

“Eat. We’ll practice self-defense after breakfast then give it a break until evening.”

He sat across from her, digging into his own food. It was fuel, pure and simple, high on carbs and protein with plenty of running power. She would need the energy to get through the next two weeks. She was already run down, tired. She wasn’t living on shattered nerves and fear now. That adrenaline heightened the senses and gave an added edge, even if it was a false one. Now, she was going to have to teach her senses to work in the proper direction. Without the nerves. Without the adrenaline kick that the life or death situation she had faced before had given her.

She drew in a deep breath, but rather than arguing, only nodded. The action drew his attention to her breasts. Unconfined, without the bra, they were still ripe and full, plump little mounds that his hands itched to cup and caress. He was dying to take her again. To see if the sensations were as intense a second time around or if it had all been a dream.

Training first, he reminded himself as he finished his meal then sat back to enjoy his coffee. It was his first cup in days and damned if he hadn’t missed it. The caffeine jolt to his system was almost immediate, making him contain a hum of pleasure.

Elizabeth wasn’t nearly as reticent. A long, low sound of appreciation vibrated in her throat as she closed her eyes, relishing the taste as well as the jolt. Her expression was pure sensual delight and as she swallowed the hot brew, her tongue peeked out to catch an escaping drop on her lower lip.

Dash’s cock jerked in awareness. He remembered her licking her lips in just that manner once before. When she had licked the last taste of his cock from them after he pulled her from him right before Mike’s interruption.

“I almost forgot how good it was.” She sighed as she opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his.

A flush instantly filled her cheeks as his gaze dropped to her damp lips.

“Finish your coffee.” Dash rose to his feet, clearing their plates from the table. “I want to start teaching you how to fight with more than nerves and fear. You have to keep your head clear to be efficient. To deliver a blow that will disable instead of merely stun. If you just stun your enemy, you risk him coming up behind you later. If you disable him, you can put him out indefinitely. Short of killing him, that’s your best bet.”

“If he’s the enemy, why not just kill him?” She rose to her feet as well, moving to the coffee pot to refill her cup. “I didn’t notice you caring much for disabling that guy you killed at the apartment.”

“There was no other choice.” He shrugged. “He had a gun in my face and he was depressing the trigger. It was kill or be killed. I chose to live. You go around leaving dead bodies and you’re drawing more attention than necessary.”

“Beats having a bunch of pissed off enemies following after you,” she commented dryly as she lifted the cup to her lips.

“The key is, you keep the enemy from knowing who you are or why you’re striking,” he told her, fighting to keep a measure of pride from his voice. Damn her, she was bloodthirsty as hell. He loved it. She wouldn’t balk if blood had to be shed, but she had to learn that there were different levels of enemies. Only the upper notch really deserved death. “Dead bodies leave a trail for the simple fact that everyone has a preferred way of killing. Mine’s the knife. If I left a string of bodies behind me, the media would start yelling vigilante. Someone I’ve worked with would hear it, and instantly, the facts of the killing would make him suspicious. There’s your first domino falling and toppling the rest.”

“So, learn another way to kill.” She was damned sure enjoying that coffee as well as whatever bloodthirsty little fantasies she must be having about now.

Dash sighed. “You’re not as hard as you’re pretending to be, baby. Taking a life isn’t that easy.”

“Killing Grange won’t cause me to lose even a moment’s sleep. It will help me sleep better,” she assured him, her voice hardening. “Don’t fool yourself, Dash. If I could have killed those bastards without my baby seeing it over the past two years, I would have. Easily.”

Dash nodded. “And I wouldn’t have blamed you, Elizabeth. But the heat of battle and killing in cold blood are two different things. Right now, you think it’s not. You’re filled with rage and a need for vengeance, and that’s good. It will keep you strong. Make you learn. But when the killing time comes, it won’t be so easy. It’s damned hard to pull that trigger and to know, know in your soul, the man you’re taking out deserves no more chances to live.”

“I thought you were harder than that, Dash.” She surprised him with her harsh words. Or maybe she didn’t, Dash thought. This rage had been brewing in her for a long time, hardening with each strike against her and her daughter.

He sighed wearily. “My first kill, Elizabeth, was against a monster. I knew he was a monster. He had brutalized men taken hostage. Had turned good, strong women into broken shells of humanity. He had nothing to redeem him. Except one thing. The man was a born fool over a tiny little scrap of humanity he had sired. He had nearly destroyed his little wife, but after that child was born, he treated her like gold because that kid loved her. I had to take him out to secure the release of two of my men he had imprisoned in a cellar room near the house. Didn’t have a choice. Even though I knew that kid and his mother would suffer. And I did what I had to do. It was him or my men. I made the choice. But I’ll regret having to make it to my dying day. Nearly everyone has a weakness. Somewhere, somehow. He didn’t deserve to live because nothing in this world was safe but that child and her mother. But, if she ever learns the identity of the man who pulled the trigger, she will come hunting. I knew it then. I know it now.”

Elizabeth finished her coffee, turned back and poured another cup. When she finished she turned back and watched him curiously. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for Grange now?” she asked him coldly.

Dash shook his head. “No, baby, I don’t expect that from you. I’d be surprised if you felt it. He doesn’t deserve your pity. The choice of life or death is yours to make. You’re the one who has to live with it, has to lie down and sleep at night with it. Just remember what I said. When it’s your life or theirs, it’s different. When it’s cold blood, you’re no more than the animal you’ve come to despise. And then, it gets damned hard to sleep at night. And damned hard to remember what makes you human. Now finish that coffee so I can teach you how to fight.”

———

Elizabeth watched as Dash cleared the living room, pushing furniture against the wall before folding out a large exercise mat he had hauled from Mike’s. He moved efficiently, gracefully for a man. There were no wasted actions, no puttering around. Within minutes the mat was unfolded and he turned back to her with a lift of his brow.

She lifted her coffee cup silently. She wasn’t finished. And she couldn’t attempt to focus on letting him teach her how to fight with her mind in the state of turmoil it was in now.

Could she kill Grange? That question haunted her now. She had been so certain before. Had convinced herself she could easily put a bullet between his eyes and never think twice. Anywhere. Anytime. Cassie wasn’t with her now. Her innocence wouldn’t be a casualty to the blood her mother shed.

She turned from Dash and stared out the window over the sink as he moved to the mat and began a series of warm-up exercises. The forest was thick, sheltering, hiding the little cabin perfectly.

A secure place, he had called it.
A fellow soldier loaned it out. No big deal
.

A friend. She noticed everyone was an acquaintance, a fellow soldier, part of the Forces. He had contacts to hell and back, and his voice reflected his respect and often affection for each man he had talked about. But he never called them friends. Never gave voice to the bond she could hear that tied them together. They were a part of a network of honor, of dedication to each other.

He had killed to save her and Cassie. He had killed to save his men. He had killed in the heat of battle and didn’t question the lives he had taken. It was kill or be killed. But he wouldn’t kill in cold blood. And she was terribly afraid she could.

Grange was a monster. As long as he was alive he would pose a threat to Cassie. He would never stop in his desire to take her. Men like that didn’t stop.

She sipped at the coffee, remembering the two years she had spent running. The lives Grange’s men had taken. The times they had hunted her without mercy, without emotion. As she finished the coffee and rinsed her cup slowly, she realized the haze of anger and pain that had filled her over the months had been slowly hardening inside her.

“Elizabeth?” She glanced at the reflection in the window, seeing Dash behind her, staring down at her gently.

She swallowed tightly. “Does it make me a monster too, Dash?” she asked him. “Am I unredeemable?”

His hands settled on her shoulders as he drew her to his chest, meeting her gaze in the window before them.

“There’s nothing more dangerous than a window, Elizabeth,” he told her rather than answering her question. “You feel safe in the house. Everyone does. They don’t think about windows. But hunters do. They watch the windows, hidden, safe, their sights trained on that small square as they wait for the target to pass by, to stop and admire the view. Then they have you.”

She stared back at him in shock. “So we’re standing here why?”

“You’re always vulnerable. Everyone is. And you’re smart enough to know that what comes around goes around. Grange is a monster. If he makes getting Cassie’s file a danger to you or me, then he’s dead. Period. If not by your hand, then by mine. Nature takes care of the diseased, baby. Eventually Grange will fall, if not sooner then later. When he does, there will be a dozen more monsters to take his place. It’s the way of evil. Always there.” He drew her away from the window, leading her to the mat. “Now get ready, because I’m going to put you on your ass.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

He did put her on her ass. More than once. Over and over. Snapping orders at her like a damned drill sergeant when she didn’t move as fast as she should have or how he thought he had explained to her.

He was cheating. She knew he was. He was aware of every move he had taught her and he knew exactly how to counter it. And he was doing it with amazing efficiency then daring to laugh at her as her frustration mounted.

She tried to pull his hair, but the pressure he exerted on her wrists had her releasing him immediately. She went for his eyes, but he was taller than she was and always waiting on her. Cool and determined, those golden-brown eyes never missed even the slightest flinch.

She came to her feet slowly, facing him, breathing roughly. She was too aware of her swollen breasts and the peaks of her nipples rasping against her bra and T-shirt. Between her thighs, the seam of her jeans exerted just enough pressure against her sensitive clit to make her yearn for more.

She was hot and sweaty and getting more pissed off by the minute. Damn, he wouldn’t even pretend that she might not be ready for him.

“Turn around,” he ordered her coldly. “You’re on point. You’re watching for me. You’re covering my back, Elizabeth. Now turn around.”

“This isn’t working,” she complained heatedly. “I can’t do anything like this but take the beating you want to dish out.”