Hunted (Riley Cray) (9 page)

My heart lurched at the sharp sound of groaning metal, the noise seeming to ring out in the darkness like a bullhorn. When no one shouted an alarm, or came running around the building with an arsenal of guns pointed at my head, I figured that the sound had gone unnoticed and I was safe to proceed with my first foray into breaking and entering.

Biting my lip, because that totally helps with concentration, I wiggled the stick back and forth, trying to lever the small pane of frosted glass out of its metal housing. A second later the glass popped out of the frame so easily I almost didn’t catch it before it hit the ground.

Wow, it’s oh-so reassuring to know we’ve got such foolproof security measures in place, I thought with a scowl as I set the window pane aside, leaning it against the wall.

Tossing my handy crow bar away into the darkness, I backed up a couple steps and took a running jump at the window, my bare feet scraping against the rough stucco finish of the wall as I scrambled up to the window. Being a werewolf may make me stronger, faster, and all that other cool shit, but it doesn’t, unfortunately, compensate for my lack of athletic prowess or short stature. Thankfully I managed to get enough height in my jump to hook my fingers over the edge of the window frame.

I was part way through the window when I realized that I might have made a slight miscalculation between the relative size of my ass compared to that of the window. The desire to scream a litany of curses was a bitter and cloying taste on the back of my tongue.

“Fucking shit fuck ass-wrangler!” I hissed, cursing my stupidity as I hung half in and half out of the small bathroom window, my naked ass wiggling helplessly in the cold air. At least from my vantage point I saw that the bathroom door was shut, hopefully keeping my verbal explosion to myself.

Knowing my luck, this will be when Samson attacks, killing me ass first
, I told myself and then instantly wished I hadn’t as a freezing wind blew across my bare cheeks and sent tremors of paranoia galloping up my spine.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I wriggled with more enthusiasm, determined to squeeze my hips through the cheap metal frame.

Sweet Jesus, if I make it through this, I swear I’ll lay off the donuts
, I thought, desperately sucking in my gut.
And the Oreo’s
, the wolf added, her lips spread in a wide doggy grin.

“Can it, bitch,” I huffed, almost whooping in relief when I felt the flimsy metal of the window frame give just enough for me to squeeze through. Before I could cry out in exultant joy I heard voices from the other room and went still.

“Did you hear something?” Holbrook asked, his voice muffled by the closed door.

“What?” Johnson replied, his voice sounding impatient and tinged with all-around grumpy asshole-ness that I was beginning to believe was a permanent state of being for the older agent.

“I thought I heard something,” Holbrook answered, his voice closer. “I’m just going to check it out.”

“No, no, no.” I struggled furtively, my legs kicking madly in the air as I strained against the window frame, and then froze as the door swung open.

Holbrook’s tall frame was silhouetted in the doorway, light from the other room spilling around him to fall across the grubby tile floor. His hand was already on the light switch, flipping it on, when he noticed me.

“Hi!” I said, not even wanting to know how ridiculous I looked hanging halfway through the window, naked as the day I was born.

At first he didn’t react, too stunned to say anything as his eyes took in the sight of my far from graceful entrance. Snapping his mouth shut, he cast a furtive glance back over his shoulder before slipping in through the door and closing it with a slow precision that left no doubt in my mind that he was fighting against the urge to slam it.

“What the...where have...how did...” he stammered, trying several times to form a coherent sentence but failing miserably.

All the while his face grew redder, whether from anger, embarrassment, or a mixture of both I couldn’t tell, but the steely edge to his gaze made it clear that anger was definitely featured in there somewhere. I felt myself wilt a little beneath the weight of his glare, my eyes growing hot with the threat of tears.

“Can you help me?” I asked. “I don’t want to be eaten ass first,” I added, drawing an even more confused look from him. Waving it off, I reached out a hand to him. “Just help me down.”

“I don’t know...I’m tempted to just leave you there. Maybe bring the press ‘round back,” he said, not moving an inch from his position by the door, settling instead for crossing his arms over his chest. “You might even make the evening news.”

Another breeze of cold air tickled the backs of my legs, making me cringe and shudder. In the back of my mind I envisioned Samson sneaking through the darkness, spying my pale wiggling ass framed in the window like a flashing neon sign proclaiming ‘Chomp here!’

Tears of frustration began to make my vision waver. “Oh God, just get me down!”

Holbrook remained unmoving for another moment, drawing out my torture for several more heart pounding seconds. Finally, the sour expression on his face gave way to one of exasperation as he pushed away from the door and took the few short steps to reach me.

“Do I even want to know what happened?” he asked with a sigh, grasping my upper arms firmly to pull me through the window.

“I’d think that was pretty self-evident,” I grumbled, letting out a hissing breath as my bare skin scraped against the metal frame.

In a tangle of flailing limbs and embarrassed curses I finally tumbled out of the window, my momentum knocking us both into the tub where we sprawled, awkwardly entwined. For a breathless moment I lay in the bottom of the tub, a multitude of aches and pains making themselves known all at once.

“Well,
that
was exciting,” I said, pushing my limp hair out of my face to see him scowling at me.

“Uh huh,” he hummed, disentangling his long legs from mine and levering himself out of the tub.

Seeing that I was going to get no help from my sulking bodyguard, I clambered out of the bathtub as gracefully as I could, which is to say, not at all, and then stood uncertainly in the middle of the cramped bathroom. The only clothes in the room were currently draped over Holbrook, and he didn’t particularly look like he wanted to share.

For a long moment we stood in uncomfortable silence, Holbrook having retreated to as safe a distance as he could manage in the small room, his back pressed against the door, and me standing next the tub rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. With the window missing the room was quickly getting cold and I wasn’t getting any less naked, my patience dwindling at the same rate as my body temperature.

“Gimme your shirt,” I said, rubbing my hands along the backs of my arms in an attempt to get some warmth back into my limbs.

“A simple ‘Thank you’ would suffice,” he replied. Making short work of the buttons on his flannel shirt he peeled it off to reveal the plain white t-shirt beneath, scowling as he thrust his shirt towards me.

Closing the short distance between us I laid my hands on the stiff muscles of his shoulders, breathing deep to draw in the sweet smell of him and the faint hint of mint on his breath. I leaned into him, pressing my nakedness along the length of his body, luxuriating in the softness of his t-shirt against my stiffening nipples, and the roughness of his jeans against my thighs.

Hovering a hair’s breadth from his lips, letting him feel the warmth of my breath against his skin I whispered “Thank you” before slanting my mouth over his.

Some part of me heard the soft rustle of fabric as his shirt hit the floor, but the rest of me didn’t give a flying fuck the moment his hot hands settled on my bare hips, his fingers pressing into my skin with urgent need. His shuddering breath skittered past my lips, tickling the skin along my jaw and ruffling my loose hair. I purred into his mouth, my hum of pleasure vibrating through our dancing mouths.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MY LIPS TINGLING from Holbrook’s bruising kisses, I didn’t even bother trying to hide my idiotic grin as I retrieved his shirt from the floor, shrugging the still warm flannel over my shoulders. Buttoning the shirt I struck a saucy pose, cocking one hip in his direction as I flashed him a salacious smile.

“How do I look?” I asked, making a show of batting my eyelashes at him. I may have looked like I was having a seizure, but I figured I got points for effort.

The widening of his eyes and paling of his cheeks wasn’t the response I’d hoped for, and for a heart pounding moment I had the horrifying vision of Samson crawling in through the open window behind me. My skin prickled in paranoia, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up straight as glanced back over my shoulder.

The window was dark and empty. “What?”

Holbrook raised a hand to point at my jaw, looking a little green. “You’ve err...got a little...something there.”

Wiping a hand across the side of my face, I looked down to see a faint smear of blood coloring my fingers. Once upon a time I would have been mortified at having blood smeared across my face, but it had been eight long years since the wolf had first awoken. I was accustomed now to the taste and scent of blood. A stray drop or two on my face was no big deal. Letting the vibrating tension ease out of my shoulders I swiped my hand over my jaw again.

“Did I get it all?” I asked, craning my neck towards him. I might have enjoyed teasing him just a
little
too much.

Still looking a little nauseous, he swallowed and nodded.

“Well, I guess it’s time to face the music then,” I said, reluctant to leave the sanctuary of the bathroom.

“Guess so,” Holbrook mumbled, opening the door and preceding me. Johnson was planted in the center of the room, thunderheads gathering in his eyes.

I had no doubt that Johnson was entirely, mundanely human, but the red hot fury rolling off of him gave me pause. He thrummed with furious energy, the overpowering bitter smell of it wrinkling my nose.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked, his face flushing a worrying shade of purple, looking fit to burst a gasket at the slightest provocation.

“Umm...” was all I could muster as I shuffled further into the room, my hands wringing in front of me. I hadn’t felt so chastised since I was a little girl and my grandfather had found me smoking behind the garage.

“Never mind, I really don’t care right now,” he said, waving off my failed attempt at an excuse. “While you were off gallivanting around, Reed made contact.”

Dread washed over me as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over my head. My hearing went fuzzy for a moment as I swayed on my feet. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention again, and I wondered if Samson had seen Holbrook and me pawing at each other like horny teenagers in the bathroom. The thought made me want to puke.

“W-what happened?” I asked, swallowing the fear rising in the back of my throat.

“I came back from getting coffee and found evidence that Reed had been in my room,” Holbrook said, the stiffness in his posture and the clipped edge to his voice making me wary.

“What evidence?”

“We believe it’s an animal carcass.”

“Believe it’s...you mean you don’t know? How can you not know?” I asked, my voice rising in pitch as hysteria crept in around the edges of my frayed nerves.

“It’s not fully intact,” he hedged.

“Meaning?” I pushed, an unsettling idea niggling at the back of my mind, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. Holbrook sighed, obviously frustrated at my inability to leave the subject alone and just accept their terse explanation.

“It looks like the partial remains of a deer,” he answered, confirming my suspicions.

My hand hovered in front of my mouth, my breath whistling in my ears as the room blurred in my vision and my hearing went fuzzy again.

“It’s mine,” I said, crackles of static hovering at the edges of my vision.

“What?” the agents chimed in unison, directing matching looks of confusion at me.

“The deer. It’s my kill. He was...oh God, he was there, watching me in the woods. He watched me hunt and feed. Watched me...Jesus. He watched me sleep,” I said, my voice quavering as I fought off the feeling of dizziness that signaled I was close to fainting. “I think I’m gonna throw up,” I whispered, swallowing the flood of saliva in my mouth.

Reaching a hand out to the edge of the dresser to steady myself, I hung my head, closing my eyes as I took several slow breaths. Somehow I managed to keep the contents of my stomach from spilling over the floor through sheer force of will alone, but it was a damned close call.

“We think he got your rooms mixed up and left it in Agent Holbrook’s room instead of yours by mistake,” Johnson was saying, his voice sounding like it was coming from a long way off. I nodded numbly in agreement, but I was pretty sure it was meant to be a warning to Holbrook as much as me.

Samson didn’t make mistakes.

“It’ll be okay, Riley. We’ll catch him,” Holbrook tried to reassure me as if he sensed that I was close to passing out or running away again.