The Dark-Hunters (317 page)

“If I’m not there on time, Tony won’t make his class. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

She felt a strange fluttering in her stomach that Wren cared about a co-worker. None of the men she’d ever known would have considered someone else above their own interests.

Wren returned to the bed to kiss her. Marguerite melted the instant his lips touched hers. She wanted to beg him to stay but refused to be like that. There would be other moments like this when she could spend more time with him.

He slid his hand beneath the sheet to gently stroke her hip. She sighed at the heat of his skin against hers as she deepened their kiss.

Wren pulled back with a growl. “If we keep this up, I won’t leave at all.”

“Would that be so bad?”

A veil descended over his face. “Yes, Maggie. It would.” He left her so quickly that it brought a chill to her. There was a strange air about him now. One she didn’t understand. It was like he’d closed something off.

“What’s wrong, Wren?”

“Nothing,” he said curtly as he left her to go to the bathroom.

Marguerite got up and pulled her bathrobe on before she followed after him.

“Wren?” she asked as she caught him in the shower. “Tell me what’s going on.”

His eyes seared hers. “I can’t. Even if I did, you would never believe it.”

“Try me.”

He shook his head. “Look, Maggie. This afternoon was fun … you were and are incredible. But we can’t keep seeing each other.”

“Why not?”

He let out a long, tired breath. “You’re the daughter of a senator.”

“You’re the son of a corporate tycoon. People like us date every day.”

He laughed bitterly. “No, Maggie. They don’t. I’ve got a lot of shit in my life that you would never understand.”

“Like what?”

His eyes turned dark, tormented. He reached one wet hand out to lay it against her cheek. “I wish I were what you deserve. But I can never be that man. In more ways than one.”

His gaze filled with regret, he released her and drew the shower curtain closed.

Marguerite stood there, listening to him bathe. Her mind went over everything that had happened to them since the night they met. There for a time this afternoon, especially after he’d cut his hair, she’d thought that they shared something special.

But wishing for something didn’t make it real, and if he wasn’t willing to trust her, there was nothing she could do. She wasn’t the kind of woman to beg for affection.

Still there was something inside her that shriveled at the thought of not seeing him anymore. She barely knew him and yet she …

You know nothing about him. Nothing.

That was true. He really hadn’t shared anything with her. So why was she so attracted to him?

Please don’t tell me I’m becoming one of those women who are attracted to the bad boys.
She’d always prided herself on being levelheaded. And yet she’d spent the whole afternoon in bed with a man she barely knew.

Oh, this sucked!

The water shut off an instant before the shower curtain opened. Marguerite couldn’t take her eyes off the sight that he made standing there completely naked with the water glistening on his tawny skin.

His gaze burning her, he reached behind her to pull a towel off the bar. She suddenly felt an inexplicable need to rub herself against him.

“I’ll … um, I’ll take a quick shower and drive you back to Sanctuary.”

“Thanks.”

Marguerite frowned as she noted his bandage had come loose. But what stunned her about it was the fact that the wound was virtually healed.

“Wha—”

He jerked away before she could get a closer look at it.

“Wren?” she asked, walking after him as he left the bathroom. “Let me see your shoulder.”

“There’s nothing to see.”

“Your wound … it looks healed.”

Before he could respond, she grabbed the bandage and pulled at it. He hissed, then growled, but she paid no attention as she stared at the scar that looked like several months had gone by, not just a few days.

She gaped at what couldn’t be real. “How is that possible?”

“I’m a quick healer.”

She shook her head. “What are you, Wren?”

He gave her a flippant look. “What do you think I am? A vampire with extraordinary healing powers? A werewolf?”

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Exactly. The wound wasn’t so severe and I heal fast, okay? That’s all there is to it.”

“You don’t have to be so defensive.”

He took a step toward her in a manner so feral that for a second it actually scared her. “It is in my nature to attack when questioned or cornered.
That
along with many other reasons is why I can’t have a relationship with you or anyone else. I can’t trust myself around you, Maggie. I was born into an extremely violent family, and I honestly don’t know how to deal with the emotions you stir inside me.” His eyes pierced her with pain. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if I stay with you, I will. I know it.”

She didn’t want to believe that. How could someone so protective ever hurt her? It didn’t make sense.

“Have you ever hit a woman before?”

His hand tightened around the towel he had clutched around his waist as he started to move past her.

“Have you?” she demanded.

A muscle worked in his jaw. “No.”

“Then why do you think you’ll hurt me?”

His turquoise eyes were haunted as he looked away from her. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, Maggie. I don’t even know, and honestly, I don’t want to find out. My family has a really bad history with relationships.”

She shivered at his words. “How did your parents die?”

“You don’t want me to answer that. Just believe me when I say that I wish things were different. I wish
I
were different, but I’m not.” He leaned down and brushed a light kiss to her cheek. “I just hope I have the strength to stay away from you. For both our sakes.”

“And if I don’t want you to?”

The anguished look in his eyes burned her. “Please, Maggie, please don’t ask me for things that I can’t give you.”

“Tell me what happened to your parents, Wren.”

His eyes burned her with heat. There was so much tormented pain there that when he finally spoke, it surprised her. “They killed each other in a fit of anger. Now do you understand?”

Marguerite was stunned by those words. There for an entire moment, she couldn’t even breathe.

“I have both their tempers and now you know why I can’t be near other people. I don’t want to hurt you, Maggie. I don’t, but if I were to stay with you, I know that I would eventually do something wrong.”

Still, she didn’t believe it. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me.”

“I don’t think it, either, Maggie. I know it. Trust me on this. I have to stay away from you.”

Her heart was breaking and yet somewhere inside was a kernel of hope. Maybe he just needed some time to clear his thoughts. They had both said that they weren’t going to see each other again and yet here they stood. Naked. Toe-to-toe.

The impossible could happen and he might very well change his mind.

But if it didn’t, she wouldn’t hold him here. She refused to be one of those clinging women who chased after a man. She was stronger than that.

Suddenly the stupid old adage about “if you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was, and always will be, yours. If it never returns, it was never yours to begin with” went through her mind. It was true.

Of course the thought was quickly followed by Tammy’s favorite addition:
“If it just sits in your living room, eating your food, messing up your stuff, and using your phone while taking all of your money, and never behaves as if you actually set it free in the first place … you either married it or gave birth to it.”

Tammy had an interesting take on life sometimes.

No good would ever come of trying to leash him to her side.

“Okay, Wren, but if you ever need a friend, you know where I live.”

He smiled before he nuzzled her cheek. His breath heated her skin, making her hot and weak. It was all she could do not to pull him back to her bed.

“If you ever need someone to protect you, you know where I live.”

She laughed at that even though her heart was shriveling at the thought of not seeing him again.

“Go,” he said, urging her back. “Get your bath. I’ll be waiting in the other room.”

Marguerite nodded and watched as he left her there. Missing him already, she bathed and dressed, then took Wren back to Sanctuary.

He opened the car door, then turned toward her. “Thank you, Maggie.”

“For what?”

“For being with me.”

She scowled at his odd words. Why would he thank her for that? “It was far from a hardship.”

“I’ll never forget you,” he breathed. He took her hand in his, then kissed her palm.

Then he left the car.

Marguerite rolled the passenger side window down. “Wren?”

He turned back toward her. “It’s over, Maggie. It has to be.”

Before she could say another word, he disappeared into the building without so much as a backward glance. She listened to the radio while the song “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain played quietly to fill the vacancy left by Wren’s absence.

But in her heart she knew that nothing would fill the emptiness inside her. Nothing but Wren, and he was determined to stay away.

Maybe that was for the best, though. There was something very dark and very sinister about Wren. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

The papers were filled every day with women who’d made the wrong choices in boyfriends or spouses. Many of the women didn’t live to regret it.

But Wren wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that instinctively.

“Yeah, but unless you’re willing to trust me, there’s no hope for this.”

Wren wanted his freedom and she refused to run after him.

She was Marguerite Goudeau. And if she had nothing else in her life, she had her pride.

“Bye, Wren,” she whispered. “I hope we meet again one day after you learn to trust someone.”

Chapter 6

Wren felt like warmed-over shit as he walked through the back door of Sanctuary. He forced himself to shut the door gently and not slam it. He didn’t want to be here. The only place he wanted to be was with Maggie.

Even now he could smell her scent on his skin, feel her body pressed to his. He craved her with a consuming madness that wanted him to turn into his true form and bound back after her.

But it could never be.

There was no place in his life for her.

“You’re late, tiger,” Remi growled at Wren as he entered the kitchen. “Where the hell have you been?”

Wren ignored him as he pulled a white apron from the hook by the door, shrugged it on over his head, and tied it around his waist. Marvin came running up to him, chattering in an angry tone as he expressed his upset at being left alone with the bears for so long.

“Sorry, monkey,” Wren said quietly. “I had things to do this afternoon.”

Marvin pursed his lips before he bounded up Wren’s arm to perch on his neck and muss his hair. Wren smoothed it down but didn’t comment.

Remi gave him a hostile glare before he went to get another keg out of the supply room.

Tony came through the kitchen door from the bar area with a load of dishes. He passed a relieved look at Wren as he set them in a large stainless-steel sink. “Man, we have been busy today. I swear it feels like Mardi Gras or something.”

Wren glanced to the clock on the wall. He was fifteen minutes late and Tony still had traffic to deal with.

Tony inclined his head to Wren. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it. But watch out for Remi, he’s been in a pissy mood all day.”

Wren snorted at that. Remi stayed in a pissy mood. The bearswain had perpetual PMS.

“Don’t speed,” Wren warned Tony as he shrugged off his apron and pulled his keys out of his back pocket. “There’s a cop just down the street.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

As soon as Tony left, Remi paused with the keg and glared at Wren again. “What? You talking to the help now?”

Wren ignored him as he picked up an empty dishpan.

Remi cocked his head. “You wreak of human, tiger. Where were you this afternoon?”

He could sense the bear wanted to attack—it was as much Remi’s nature as it was his own. But luckily the bear had better sense. Without acknowledging him at all, Wren headed out to the bar to bus tables.

It was a typical evening with the tourists and bikers mingling against the backdrop of heavy metal songs that played over the stereo. The Howlers wouldn’t take the stage until much later. With the exception of Colt, who was their guitarist, the band tended to sleep all day and only rise at dusk. It was hard for an animal to retain its human form in the daytime.

Only the truly strong could manage it.

Since it was dinnertime, the table areas were packed with people eating. There weren’t many Were-Hunters about. Wren was one of the few who came out this early. But then, daylight had never bothered him that much. Even though he was young by Were-Hunter years, he’d never had a lot of trouble remaining in human form before dark. He wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it stemmed from the fact that it took just as much effort to hold a pure tiger or leopard form as an animal as it did to look human. He’d honed those skills early in life as a way to at least try to blend in with the other animals.

Unfortunately, it had been moot, since they could smell that he was a hybrid. His scent was the one thing that he couldn’t change even with magic. And he hated it.

As soon as he filled his pan, he headed back toward the bar for the kitchen door. Behind the bar, Fang moved to hold the kitchen door open for him.

Wren inclined his head in thanks. Fang was a wolf who had come to Sanctuary almost a year and a half ago. He’d spent the first few months here in a coma brought on by a vicious Daimon attack that had left the wolf completely defenseless. Unlike the vampires of Hollywood legend, Daimons not only drank blood but also sucked living souls into their own bodies to elongate their lives. Since Were-Hunters were able to wield magic, they were particularly sought by the Daimons, who could use the magic themselves after they killed a Were-Hunter.