Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1 (28 page)

When everyone had taken a seat and the plane taxied down the runway, she asked softly, “What were you going to tell me?”

He gave a terse shake of his head. “Not right now.”

She leaned back in the seat and gave a quiet sigh, disappointment sifting through her.

Not likely later either.

The two black P.I.A.-issued vans moved down Interstate 93, staying close together as they made their way into Boston during rush hour. Warrick glanced up from the wheel of the van he drove, and checked his rearview to see the other one.

Soon the van behind them would turn off the interstate and head toward a new safe house. And their van wouldn’t be far behind them, but first they had to pick up Sienna’s dad.

His attention slipped from the road once more to cast another glance at Sienna. Even though the van was mostly empty, she sat in the far back, head leaning against the window. She’d finally fallen asleep. Which was a bit of a relief to him.

She’d been quiet on the flight to the East Coast, and he knew she probably was itching to talk about a half dozen things at least. And he kept putting her off. Quinton was the only other rider with them in the van, so a quaint little heart-to-heart wasn’t possible.

Warrick’s jaw flexed as he forced his focus back to the road and the red glow of taillights in front of him. He’d made sure that last night they hadn’t slept together, had put her alone in a room and stayed the hell away. Mostly to let her get the rest she needed after such an emotional day, but also because he couldn’t trust himself with her now.

Not that it really mattered anymore. A bitter laugh of disbelief built in his chest. Life as he knew it was gone. His career was done. His connection with the P.I.A. would be severed. All because he’d marked Sienna. He’d chosen her as a mate.

Chosen
being the key word. No one had forced him to.

But there wasn’t enough time to reflect on his choice right now. Right now he needed to be tunnel-visioned on picking up Sienna’s father and getting the shifters the help they needed ASAP.

“Does she know what you’ve done to her?”

Warrick’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel at Quinton’s sudden, all-too-casual question.

“
She
being Sienna? What exactly are you even referring to, Quinton?”

“You know damn well what I’m referring to.”

The edge that appeared in Quinton’s voice erased any doubt that the agent had seen the marks on Sienna’s neck.

Shit. Sweat beaded cool on the back of Warrick’s neck as he cast another glance in the rearview. She hadn’t moved and her face was still relaxed from a deep sleep.

“No.” Warrick finally shook his head. “She doesn’t know. And I don’t intend to tell her.”

“Don’t you think she has the right to know?”

“I think she has enough on her mind right now. Why throw something that heavy on her?”

“Because it’s her future,” Quinton replied succinctly.

“And letting the dust settle before I tell her won’t change that one bit.”

“Unless you decide to push for her memory to be wiped.”

The anger that exploded in Warrick clouded his vision in a haze of red, making him grip the wheel hard enough to nearly snap it in half.

“I tried to stop the first one, why the hell would I let you do it again.”

Quinton shrugged. “I can’t answer that. Only theorize that maybe now you’ve had time to really think about what’s on the line. Your career. Your place in the community. Maybe you’re having doubts.”

“Now that’d make me a king-sized asshole, wouldn’t it?” Warrick snarled. But Quinton’s words coiled around him inside, gripping and holding on. Screaming there was a grain of truth to it.

“Maybe. But it’d also make you human,” Quinton said quietly.

“I’ll never be human.” He laughed bitterly and tried to shrug off the chill that slinked down his spine.

Dammit. He couldn’t still be harboring thoughts of having Sienna wiped. Could he?

“It’s all irrelevant.” He shook his head. “Just, please, don’t say anything to Sienna.”

“A little late for that.”

Warrick’s gaze snapped up to the rearview and his stomach dropped. Sienna still rested her head against the window, her body relaxed, but her eyes were wide and sparkling with fury.

“And somebody better fill in all those gigantic potholes in your locker room conversation.” Her tone scalded as she finally lifted her head from the window. “What exactly did you do to me and how does it involve my future.”

Next to him in the passenger seat, Quinton let out a hissing breath and cursed softly.

“I’ll explain later, Sienna,” Warrick muttered, curling and uncurling his hands around the steering wheel.

“No, dammit, you’ll explain now.” Her voice rose and he heard the telltale click of her seat belt coming undone.

“Oh damn,” Quinton glanced over his shoulder. “Sienna, sit down. Warrick—”

Warrick glanced in the rearview. Jesus, she was climbing toward the front of the van. He looked back at the road in time to see the red glare of taillights as the car in front of them slammed on the brakes.

“Son of a bitch!” Warrick slammed his foot down on the brake and the van lurched to a stop.

Sienna pitched forward, slamming into the back of Quinton’s seat with a groan.

Hell, was she trying to kill herself? Warrick pulled the van to the side of the road, put it in Park and turned off the engine. His jaw clenched and his fury warred with concern as he saw Sienna rub her forehead.

“Are you all right?” he asked, keeping his tone tempered.

“Fine,” she muttered, and ran her tongue over her lip, frowning. Probably checking for blood.

The second van that had been behind them slowed down as it passed, and Warrick waved them by irritably and shook his head.

“Get back in your seat, Sienna,” Warrick ordered. “Or so help me God I will climb back there and—”

“Shut it, Warrick. I’m not sitting down until I have answers. You.” Sienna grabbed Quinton’s shoulder and forced him to turn and look at her. “What’s Warrick not telling me?”

Quinton didn’t say anything, but Warrick saw his gaze slip to Sienna’s neck. Shit. Sienna must’ve seen it too, because her hand fluttered up to the marks there.

“This? It has something to do with where Warrick bit me, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t answer that,” Warrick snarled.

“Tell me, Quinton. It’s not just a harmless little love bite, is it?”

Quinton shrugged her hand off and turned to meet Warrick’s gaze. Warrick’s gut clenched and he held his breath. Something flickered in the older agent’s eyes. Understanding. Sympathy. Warrick’s chest expanded with the hope that Quinton would keep his mouth shut.

“No. They’re not just love bites,” he said instead. “Warrick claimed you as his mate.”

Chapter Seventeen

His mate
?

Sienna reared back from Quinton and fell into the seat behind them. She shook her head numbly.

When he’d bitten her, he’d claimed her? Made her his mate?

“But that’s not possible,” she mumbled, her gaze sliding to Warrick. But his back was to her, and he was entirely too still. “You can only mate with another shifter.”

“Shifters can mate with whomever the hell they want.” Quinton’s tone had bite. “But to mate with a human means he gives it all up. His career. His acceptance within the shifter community.”

Sienna’s stomach roiled and nausea swept through her. She shook her head faster. “No. He wouldn’t do that. Warrick’s career means everything to him.”

Quinton laughed, a harsh, grating sound, and stared at her neck again. “Obviously he did do that.”

Oh God. Oh God, how had this happened? She stared at the back of Warrick’s head, silently begging him to say something. But he remained silent and eerily still.

Warrick had given up everything for her?

She was his mate.

“It was an accident,” she blurted. “A heat-of-the-moment thing. I’m sure he didn’t realize.”

“I am right here,” Warrick ground out. “You don’t need to talk as if I’m not.”

“Usually happens that way, kid.” Quinton went on with a shrug, as if Warrick hadn’t spoken. “But a shifter doesn’t bite a woman unless he truly…wants to claim her as his own.”

If she hadn’t been so distraught by being told Warrick was mated with her, she might’ve tried to figure out why Quinton’s voice had faltered on that last statement.

Warrick had claimed her. The idea sent a rush of pleasure and rightness through her, but a frisson of dread too. Because although she was fairly certain she was in love with him, she knew Warrick didn’t want this. Didn’t reciprocate her feelings. He’d told her from the beginning they could never be mated.

“And what if I don’t want to be mated to him?” she asked desperately, searching for some kind of loophole.

“It’s not your choice,” Warrick finally spoke, his voice flat with resignation. “When you went to bed with a shifter you took that risk. The male always picks his mate.”

Disbelief robbed her of the ability to respond right away. What a sexist, ridiculous rule. Sienna leaned back against the bench seat and glanced out the window, watching the late afternoon traffic crawling by them.

“And the women just accept it? I don’t believe that for a moment,” she muttered. “That I have no choice in this. I could just walk away and—”

“You would never do that. You’re emotionally and chemically bonded to him now, Sienna,” Quinton explained as if he were talking to a child. “What passed between you both when he marked you is like twenty times more potent than being in love. You’ll always need him. Want him. Love him. He’s your mate.”

I don’t love him!
She wanted to scream the words. They were on the tip of her tongue. But her mouth went dry and tears burned behind her lids. Her heart wouldn’t let her utter them.

“Unless you wipe me?” she asked, the idea darting through her head and taking root. “Would I forget then?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know that,” Warrick said, casting Quinton a sharp look.

“Actually, I do.” His tone turned frigid and even though Sienna could only see his profile, she saw the emotion slip from his face and his mouth tighten in a clear indication that he wouldn’t be elaborating.

“We don’t have time for this now.” Warrick sighed and started the engine again. “Please buckle up, Sienna. We need to get to your dad.”

What was the point of resisting? Warrick had already pulled the van back into traffic, and she really didn’t want to risk her life by riding unbuckled in rush hour.

“I’m not done discussing this,” she warned resolutely, while fastening her seat belt once more.

Warrick grunted. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Like hell there isn’t. Like you both said, this is my future too. And I don’t particularly take well to having it decided for me.”

She slid her attention to Quinton, but found him quiet and seemingly off in his own little world as he stared out the windshield.

Insensitive idiots. Both of them. Talking about her and her future, blithely assuming she was asleep and wouldn’t hear a damn word they said.

But she’d heard. Heard exactly how little she meant to Warrick—even if by biting her that night he’d made her his mate.

His mate!

Smothering a hysterical laugh as the impact really began to sink in, Sienna pressed her fingers to her temples.

Did she want to be Warrick’s mate?

God, yes. It wasn’t even a question that needed pondering. The vision flashed through her head of how it would be. Waking every morning in Warrick’s arms, making love to him, having his protection and love.

Love?

She shook her head. No. Warrick didn’t love her. Strong lust and a history of friendship didn’t equal love by any means. And beyond that, she could never be so selfish as to let this mating stand. Not if it resulted in the sacrifices he would have to make. And besides, it wasn’t as if he’d consciously made the choice. Obviously he was as staggered as she was. He’d been caught up in the moment.

There had to be a way around it. Because what an absolute mess. How could he have done it? How could he have lost control like that? She knew Warrick would never have consciously made the decision to claim her.

Sienna was so caught up in her distressed thoughts, she didn’t even notice when they pulled up in front of her dad’s house. It took the van turning off for her to snap out of it.

Warrick turned around and gave her a searching glance. His expression tightened and he sighed.

“Maybe you should wait in the van, Sienna. Give me a minute to talk with—”

“Like hell. There’s nothing you need to say to my father that I can’t be there for.” She unfastened her seat belt and had the door open in seconds.

The Boston humidity hit her hard, and Sienna lifted her hair off the back of her neck as she inhaled the warm air. She was halfway to the front step when Warrick caught up to her.