Tempt Me Eternally (5 page)

Undiluted panic flooded her expression. Breath rasped from her, so loud in the ensuing silence that the sound of it scratched at his ears.

“I'm from here.” She fired. “I'm from Earth.”

He ducked. The ocher stream glided straight through the top outline of his essence, which had been left behind by his swiftness. “Liar.”

“I am!”

“You say that after everything I've witnessed?”

“Yes.” Fire.

Duck. Finally he cut through the rest of her personal space, nothing between them but a whisper. He might not want to force her, but he would have to subdue her before she ran or injured him further. “A human could not change faces and bodies as you do.”

“What I am doesn't matter.” Just as before, she backed away. Her bottom lip quivered, and tears suddenly glinted in her eyes, crystalline pools of pain, sorrow, and intensified fear. “Now, let the agents go and leave this planet! Please.”

Were those tears real or fake? Either way, he actually experienced a desire to wrap his arms around her and . . . comfort her? Comfort a woman shooting at him? Strangely enough, yes. Desire truly did screw with a man's common sense.

There had to be a way to stop those tears, disarm her,
and
get that sweet body under him as quickly as possible, all without using physical brawn. He'd mentioned negotiating earlier. She hadn't seemed interested, but then, they hadn't been discussing her friends.

“Do you wish to bargain for the lives of your fellow agents?”

She stilled, though she didn't lower the weapons. The tears dried, at least. “B-bargain? What is it you want from me? What do I have that you could want?”

“I thought I had made that clear. I want
you
.”

For several drags of time, she did nothing. Gave no reaction to his words. No matter her response, he had no plans to kill the agents. They were to be tickets allowing his men to freely roam Earth. He would trade a life for a life. An agent for a Rakan. And if AIR proved dishonorable, attacking after agreeing to such a trade, well, they alone would be responsible for the war that erupted. All he desired was peace for his men. Peace and a new, disease-free life.

Macy couldn't know that, and he didn't mind letting her think she was the cause of his benevolence. If mercy was what she found attractive, merciful he would seem to be.

Too eager, though, he would not be. That would lessen his power. His years negotiating fair prices for his fish had taught him that. “My offer will end in three seconds,” he said. “One. Two.”

“Three. My answer is no. I'll free them myself.”

That intense look of concentration descended over her features again. He tensed, knowing what was coming this time. As her appearance changed from woman to Breean, from humanoid to Rakan, he kicked into hyperdrive. But she quickly gained her bearings and raced to the far edge of the clearing before he could catch her.

Their eyes met in a moment of charged electricity. In challenge. Then, she disappeared again. He was standing in the exact spot she'd vacated a split second later. As his spirit caught up to his body, he looked for her. Spotted her just ahead. Cursed and leapt forward. She might actually be better at this than he was.

She was rushing around the group of agents, trying to uncuff and wake them, and when that didn't work, drag them away. He was there in the next instant, right beside her and gripping her arm, doing his best to contain her without bruising her. Gasping, she jerked from his hold and disappeared.

When he next spotted her, she was darting through the trees, racing away. “Take the prisoners to the dungeon,” he flung over his shoulder to his men, then gave chase. He still didn't understand how the AIR agents had known they would be arriving this night, but it didn't really matter. He'd planned to hunt down a few after he settled in, and now he wouldn't have to. Now he could simply begin the negotiations. After he caught Macy, that is.

A few times she actually slammed into the thick trunks. She'd
humph,
shake her head, and jump back into motion. Once he clasped her jacket; rather than slowing her down, his grip merely ripped the torn material farther, revealing a shirt that was equally torn, as well as the planes and hollows of
his
back.

The second time he grabbed her, he encountered only hair. Hating himself, he yanked. She screamed, but continued to surge forward, leaving several strands in his fist.

“Stop,” he commanded, moving the knife he'd confiscated from her to his boot. When he caught her, and he would, he did not want her having access to it.

“Do you really have to think about my answer?”

“You're not going to escape me. You might as well give up before I'm forced to hurt you.”

“Says the man who's losing.” She maneuvered around another tree.

Several vehicles loomed ahead. Was anyone inside them? If so, and they hustled away with Macy, he could lose her for good. He knew it, didn't like it, and wouldn't allow it to happen. He was tiring from the day's excess of speed, but he ground his teeth and forced his arms and legs to work faster.

Air beat against him, chilled and biting. His blood ran hot, though, hotter than ever before. He could hear the woman's hoarse pants and imagined her breath floating over his naked chest, then dipping lower, until her mouth encircled his cock in damp heat. Oh, yes.

Arousal spread and gave him strength. Again he quickened his steps, his gaze raking over her body. Or rather,
his
body. Which was weird, but didn't cool his ardor. As if sensing the fervor of his stare, Macy flicked a wild glance behind her. Whatever she saw in his expression panicked her and in less than a blink, she was average height with short red hair and dark brown eyes. Aged skin, a little too tanned.

She slowed abruptly, as if losing her ability to sustain the swift pace right along with her grip of his image, and lost her balance. Down, she tumbled.
Breean was on top of her in the next instant, flipping her over and pinning her to a bed of leaves. Allowing his weight to settle atop her, he locked her arms over her head.

“You should have stopped,” he panted.

“Calm down, calm down,” she chanted, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She dragged in a deep breath, released it, and was golden, muscled, and tall in seconds.

He scowled down at her. “Change back.”

“No.” Her eyelids popped open, and his own golden eyes glared up at him.

“Change!” No way would he kiss himself. And oh, yes, he was going to kiss her. Nothing could prevent him from doing so, not even the voice in his head demanding he be gentle with this woman.

“No!”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. If she possessed his appearance and his abilities, surely she possessed his vulnerabilities as well. Once, during a battle with a crowd of infected Rakan females, he'd been bitten in the side. The area had never healed properly and was a liability, for any type of contact would send him to his knees. Even now, there was a twinge beneath the scarred skin.

Knowing exactly where to touch, he reached under the torn shirt she wore and pinched. She screamed in pain.

“Change.”

“No,” she said, but it was a whimper this time.

He could not back down. He increased the
strength of his grip. “The agony will stop the moment you change.”

“Fine, okay, yes, but I have to calm down first. Okay? Calm, calm.” While she chanted, her eyelids closed again, and she pushed out a shaky breath. Her body slackened. Slowly, so slowly, her face began to rearrange itself, the length of her nose shortening, her lashes becoming longer, paler, her cheeks rounding. Her hair altered from golden to pale.

Disappointed, he shook his head. “I want to see the black-haired wench.”

She blinked up at him in horror. “W-what?”

“The black-haired wench with the green eyes. I want to see her.”

“How do you— No. Never mind,” she snarled, suddenly struggling to gain her freedom. One of her arms succeeded, and she drilled three quick jabs into his nose before he could stop her.

He howled as he snagged her wrist. The little witch. This was going to end. Now. “The time for pain is over, Macy. Now you're going to kiss me and make me better.”

C
alm down, calm down, calm down,
Aleaha sang in her mind. Hard thing to do, though. Nearly impossible.
A man was on top of her, pinning her down, and he somehow knew what
she
looked like. Not Macy. Not another identity. But Aleaha. How did he know which face truly belonged to her when she hadn't shown it to him? How?

And how could she like this position so much?
I am your master,
he had said, as if he owned her. Rather than enjoying his weight, she should be clawing his eyes out and feeding them to him, then later allowing herself a case of wine and a good cry.

A cry with dry heaves and a runny nose, because the fact that she enjoyed this man in any way scared her. Even the first time she'd accidentally become someone else—when an overweight, balding man had jerked little Aleaha into an abandoned warehouse, touching her in ways no man should touch a child, and she'd felt herself expand, lengthen, and transform, she hadn't been this scared.

That man had let her go; this man wouldn't release her until she'd given him what he wanted. She sensed it with everything inside her. That's just how warriors were, and he was every inch the warrior. She should know—she'd inhabited that hard body. But she couldn't relent. He was a killer and her enemy, and he wasn't frightened of AIR. Maybe because he'd defeated the agents so easily.

Guaranteed he wouldn't defeat Mia, who was probably on her way right now. Something she'd assured herself a thousand times already. So where the hell was the commander?

Didn't matter, really, she told herself now. In the
end, AIR would catch him. They always caught their targets. And when they caught this one, he would tell them what he'd seen her do, tell them what she truly looked like.

Oh. God. She would be ruined. Why wait until after scratching Breean's eyes to have her cry? AIR would then turn their sights on her. She would be on the run, hunted like an animal, just as she feared. And what if they found a way to prevent her from changing faces? She would never again be able to hide.

Would that be so bad?
her mind suddenly piped up.
You can't take over yet another person's life
.

She'd found a sense of contentment as Macy, yes, but the guilt she'd denied, well, it was easier to deny than to admit. In truth, she battled guilt every damn day. Hell, she lost more and more of
herself
every day, causing despair to blend with that guilt. She hated that she was living a life that had been cut short for someone else. Hated that she'd done nothing to earn the blessings bestowed upon her. Hated that her friend Bride, if she still lived, couldn't find her because she didn't have the courage to live as Aleaha.

Don't think about that now
.
Escape!

She bucked and strained under her captor's hold, unintentionally meshing their bodies and fusing heat, breasts against chest, thigh against thigh. Sweet heaven, it felt good, which increased her need for freedom. If he could make her crave him, despite her fear
and
dislike of him, he would destroy her life.

“Get off me!”

His eyes closed and his lips curled in a slow, satisfied
smile. “You're trying to push me off, yet you're also gripping my shoulders, holding on. Which do you really want, female? For me to get off? Or for me to get
you
off?”

Damn it, she
was
holding on. How long since she'd allowed herself such close contact? Such warm, delicious contact?
There you go again, becoming distracted, wanting what you can't have
. Scowling, she pried her fingers from him, all the while continuing to flail. “Off. I want you off.”

“Keep moving. Don't stop fighting.” His penis was hard and thick and every time she arched, it pressed deep between her legs. “I'll get off, I promise.”

If they'd been naked, he would have been inside her. And she would have liked it.

Okay. She was only making things worse—for both of them. She stilled, panting, and he moaned in disappointment. That strange honey fragrance wafted all around them, as if they lounged in a summer meadow of wild honeysuckle rather than a gloomy forest of ice.

She inhaled deeply to catch her breath, and her mind fuzzed just a bit. So good. Smelled so good. Why fight him when she could kiss him, as she'd craved earlier? She could delight in those muscles, enjoy every naughty inch of him.

Argh! “Just . . . let me go.” Clearly, she couldn't win physically. “Please. I've let you go. Do the same for me.”

His eyelids opened, revealing the golden glow of his irises. They were bright with hungry desire. A
reflection of hers? “You should not have run.” His voice was husky, rich. “The warrior in me liked it.”

Liked
was growled, layered with challenge and savagery.

For several seconds, her heart ceased beating. And when it finally kicked back into gear, her flailing and bucking renewed with more force, but did little to dislodge him. She didn't care that her actions rubbed them together. Didn't care that they aroused her as much as they did him. She had to escape before he tried to take things further—and she was tempted to let him.

Tempted? Ha! Willing to beg, more like.

Already her blood sang and her body ached from the delicious friction. When his erection stabbed at her clitoris, she had to clench her jaw to keep from moaning in ecstasy. “Let me go!”

“Your fate was sealed the moment I spotted you.” Droplets of sweat beaded on his forehead, making the skin appear like liquid gold. “Actually, it was sealed the moment you stepped into this forest.”