Moon Kissed (6 page)

“Us.” She laughed and started for the door. “There will never be an
us
, lycae.”

Facing the blinding sun was preferable to the future she’d face after she killed off the cousin of Adam Trevlian. She’d just have to bide her time and go after Taylor when the opportunity presented itself again. In the long scheme of things, two decades weren’t shit. She had an eternity to take care of her vow.

What good was immortality without something rewarding to look forward to?

“Me.” Wolfe’s large body blocked her path to freedom. “You have me to look forward to.”

“I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last available male on the planet and the survival of the immortal race depended on it.”

He lunged for her and she crouched, avoiding his arms. She spun, got a decent visual and landed a kick that connected with his lower back. He went down, hitting the floor with a solid thunk. The door beckoned, so close she could taste freedom. She jumped over his body and reached for the knob. A pair of strong arms snared her from behind, dislodging her fingers. He picked up her and carried her away from the exit. She gasped when he tossed her on the bed and clasped her hands above her head. He caged her with his larger form, pinning her to the mattress.

Thrashing like a wild thing, she thundered, “Let go!”

“All right, hellcat, listen up.” Wolfe’s face slowly came into focus. His green eyes were bright. A few flakes of blood had dried around his nostrils. His thick, dark hair spilled forward, scattering around his temples. “Scream at me for coming between you and Taylor. I deserve it. But don’t
ever
try to run from me. You won’t get far, and it causes the beast under my skin to fight for control. I don’t want that for you. Not the first time.”

“Have you lost your mind?”
He was insane. Absolutely cray-cray. “There won’t
be
a first time, you crazy son of a bitch!”

“Oh, there’ll be a first time.” He pressed his swollen erection against the softness of her mound and rotated his hips. She’d been right. He was thick, long and hard as hell. “And a second. And a third…”

Her throaty moan—one she couldn’t prevent—fueled her outrage at herself. She would easily give it up to this bastard, even after the opportunity he’d cost her. She cursed her weak body, damned herself for feeling so drawn to a male her pride wouldn’t allow her to have.

She met his gaze and ordered, “Get off me.”

“I won’t let you go. I can’t.” The intensity in his eyes made her stomach twist into knots. “Do you understand me? Not now, not ever.”

He stared at her as though she wasn’t a woman but a possession. A little warning chimed in her skull. The dawning comprehension made her belly cramp and her heart race. It couldn’t be. There was no way. She couldn’t be his mate. Werewolves mated their own kind or humans they could change, not vampires.

“I didn’t believe it either, not at first.” He eased his hold of her wrists but didn’t let go. “But it’s true. I knew the minute I touched you.”

“It can’t be,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Is the concept of being mated to me so horrific?” He bowed his head, his nose hovering over hers. “You’ll never be alone again. You’ll have someone to depend on for the rest of your life.”

The world reeled, thoughts coming in too quickly to be processed. So many insecurities rose at the prospect of lifelong companionship. The fears of having been an abandoned child resurfaced—harsh, painful and unwanted. Those who cared for her always went away, either by choice or force.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her then, lips soft and tender.

The overwhelming temptation to relent to his seduction was too much, overriding common sense. How could she be logical when all she wanted was to flip him over and take him for a test drive?

She couldn’t think like this.

“Bathroom,” she mumbled, pushing against the wall of his chest.

“Come again,
t’keeira
?”

Her eyes slid closed, and she stopped fighting. She didn’t know what
t’keeira
meant, but at least he hadn’t called her
cher
. “I need to use the bathroom.”

She knew he sensed her need for space, having invaded her mind yet again. He shifted his enormous frame, released her wrists and moved to the side. With a wave, he motioned to a door to the left. She slid off the mattress, rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door closed. Her breathing was jagged, her heartbeat erratic. Even if it was stupid, she locked the door with shaking fingers.

Get your head on straight.

She stepped over to the sink and reached for the faucets. Fluid shot from the spout, the loud whine of running water muting sounds outside the room. She cupped her hands and splashed the cold liquid onto her face, removing any traces of mud around her eyes. After she finished, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her long blonde hair was tangled and unkempt, her eyes puffy from the strain of the sun. She looked like hell and felt even worse.

There was no way in hell she was returning to that room.

To his arms.

To his
bed
.

Mating a lycae meant an eternity spent together. When the member of any shifter race discovered their mate, nothing else mattered. They’d kill anyone who stood between them and the one person they couldn’t exist without regardless of the cost, or the consequences.

She turned to stare at the window over the shower. Her life was too dangerous. If they got involved, he’d put his life at risk. There was no way she could live with that. She’d seen too many people suffer and die because of her.

A soft knock invaded her thoughts. “Arden? We need to talk.”

Inhaling deeply and striving for calm, she tried to pull herself together. “Give me five minutes.”

She hoped he wouldn’t read her mind. Seconds passed like minutes. She held her breath, waiting to see what he’d do. After a moment, she heard heavy footsteps as he moved away from the bathroom. She sprang into action, thinking quick on her feet. If she stuck around, she’d eventually give Wolfe what he wanted. He brought out impulses in her she couldn’t control, appealing to a part of her nature she’d denied for too long.

She left the water running and hurried to the window. The glass had already been lifted, allowing her to see the sunshine outside. Although it was a tight fit, she managed to wriggle through the tiny space, trying to be as quiet as possible. Bright and painful beams of light blasted her face, and she slammed her eyes closed. She used her fingers to guide her, feeling for the side of the building. As her legs slid free and she fell toward the ground, she relied on instinct, rotating her body, saying a tiny prayer that she didn’t break her neck.

She landed on her feet but stumbled. An object tripped her up, sending her to her knees.

Get up! You don’t have time for this.

Using her nose and ears for guidance, she extended her arms and rose on trembling legs. It only took a moment to regain her balance. She scented the air, trying to figure out precisely where she was.

Focus. Focus. Focus…

Then she knew. It was just as she’d thought.

The location reeked of Greyson. Wolfe had taken her to the small loft above the pub. If she stayed off the radar, she could maneuver the landscape without bringing undue attention to herself. A destination was uncertain but at the moment, all she needed was a direction. And in this circumstance, the direction would be as far away from the unforgettable lycae, Wolfe Trevlian, as possible.

She started jogging, knowing she had to move fast.

It wouldn’t be long before the game was up and her would-be suitor discovered he’d been ditched.

Chapter Four

Arden pounded on a door that was too blurry for her liking, hoping her luck was about to change for the better. She’d managed to travel to a safe place but she couldn’t relax. Not yet. She needed time to sort through everything that had happened. In order to do that, she had to put her fate in the hands of someone who had the power to help her. Despite being someone she knew to fear, he was also her only friend. She’d put her life in his hands before. Hopefully he wouldn’t kill her for doing so again.

A warlock judge—the deadliest of all wizards.

Heavy stomping from within indicated she’d lucked out.

Thank God. Trevor’s home.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Hold on to your water.” The chain latch came undone, and the door opened with a swoosh of air. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?”

She ignored the question, brushed past the man in her path and stomped into the apartment. The trip through the business district had been hell to navigate, but she knew the layout of Trevor’s apartment well enough to dodge obstacles in her way. She hauled ass, heading for the back patio where he kept a small garden.

“Answer me, damn it,” Trevor ordered. She heard him close the door and sensed he’d followed her. “Do I need to prepare for company?”

“Yes, actually. The sooner the better.” She opened the French doors, walked outside and knelt beside the potted plants Trevor meticulously cared for. After she’d retrieved a small clump of soil from one, she asked, “Can you mask my scent?”

“Who have you pissed off this time?” His voice conveyed his worry and anger. He started mumbling, one of his numerous bad habits. When he snapped at her, his Scottish brogue was no longer hidden but in full swing. “Like I doona have enough trouble of my own tae deal with, I have tae take care of your shit as well. Thank you bloody fucking much.”

“Mask my scent. I’ll explain.”

“Doona tell me it’s another ghoul. The last one refused tae stay dead.”

“Would you just mask my scent already?” She lifted the chilled earth between her fingers and pressed it against one eyelid at a time. “I don’t have time to argue.”

Trevor grasped the top of her head. She felt something wet coating the top of her scalp, and whatever it was soaked her hair. He spoke several clipped words in Latin, evoking a spell of some kind. She felt the magic as it wrapped around her, keeping her presence hidden from those who might come looking for her. When he finished, he snagged her by the arm and guided her into the living area none too gently.

“Start explaining.”

“We’ve got a problem,” she muttered and took a seat on his couch.

“No,
you
have a problem, singular.” Trevor growled and paced the small area. “After our little run-in at the city of the dead, I told you I was done. No more, Arden. No more going into situations half-cocked. Unlike you, I
value
my life.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.” She cleared her throat before continuing, “The lycae who’s on my ass will sniff me out once he passes the Quarter.”

“Damn it!” Trevor stomped around the room, and his Scottish temperament decided it was time to shine. “It’s no’ enough that ye have vampires, vampyren and demon kind wanting to rip out your throat. Oh no. You had to go and tangle with a fucking werewolf? Are you bloody insane?”

“He got between me and Taylor. I didn’t have a hell of a lot of choice.”

“A lycae will tear you apart. You can’t atone for the life of your friend if you’re dead. Did you ever think of that?”

“At the time, no.” She shook her head and her shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t thinking about anything but finding Lucius.”

Silence followed, broken only by the ticking of a clock on the wall. She didn’t blame Trevor for being upset. Lycae were something they avoided. With the exception of Greyson, the agreement to stay away from them had never been an issue.

“You know why I couldn’t leave. I had to do everything I could.” Even though she couldn’t see, she tried to look him in the eye. “I owe Portia that. I gave her my word.”

Trevor understood her compulsion to risk everything for vengeance, having been there himself. It was how they’d met and formed a bizarre friendship. They reminded each other they were not alone. The death of a loved one left a permanent scar, but the pain of the blow could be eased with the aid of the right person.

Fucked up relationships. Gotta love them.

“We can’t stay here,” Trevor announced, wearing a hole in the carpet as he walked back and forth across the room. “We’ll pack some things and drive over to my parents’ place in Violet. No one knows about it. If I mask our scent, nothing will be able to detect us.” He stopped pacing and asked, “How much time do we have?”

“Minutes, maybe?” She was fast, but she had been forced to make her way to Trevor’s home blind. Wolfe would find them. It was only a matter of time.

“Damn, damn, damn!” he bellowed, anger coming off him in waves. “You owe me.”

She lowered her forehead to her palm, listening as he stormed from the room. Things had taken a turn from bad to worse. Her valued friendship with Trevor McAvoy was something she couldn’t afford to lose. His magic let her space apart her feedings and staved off the bloodlust. Without him, she would have to drink at least once a week. Since their relationship wasn’t formed in the most common sense, it meant she had to proceed with extreme caution.

The past returned, restoring awful memories.

She’d met her business associate when he’d needed help exorcising a demon that destroyed his parents and murdered his dearly departed girlfriend. Making money on the side was rather boring until they’d taken a job that’d pitted them against a lich—the purest and most disgusting kind of vampire. Both of them had walked away battered and alive, but just barely. Trevor had jumped ship shortly after, severing their professional ties. Not that she blamed him. Her line of work could kill a person. She didn’t fear the loss of her life, but she understood why he didn’t feel the same way.