His Darkest Hunger (11 page)

The need to fight and to hunt was a constant that burned beneath his skin. Regular jaguar shifters had always existed, but the warriors came into existence because of dark magick used by the ancient Aztecs. They succeeded in creating the ultimate predator, and the genetic code had been passed down through centuries.

Jaxon continued on, mindless of direction, only wanting the painful need that clawed at him to
go away. He wasn’t sure when his senses started screaming at him, but he noticed it as he stepped into a small clearing, deep into the brush, and discovered the remnants of a fire.

Quickly, he scanned the perimeter as his body remained still. He scented the air, pulling in many different smells that his olfactory senses were able to pick apart in seconds.

He knew there was a carcass, half decomposed to his left, just under the brush—animal, not human. He also knew that a shifter had lingered here, but vacated, probably within the last day or so. The signature was jumbled, and he was certain some sort of agent was used to cover its exact origin. Whether that agent was human or a result of magick, he couldn’t be sure. But he did know one thing: the act of hiding one’s origins was something an enemy would use.

He growled low in his belly, senses high at the thought of a hunt.

“Damn, Jax! By the looks of things, I’d say you were happy to see me, but since I’m your brother, I’m really hoping that’s not the case.”

Jaxon’s tense muscles deflated in an instant, and luckily for him, that included the large one that had been standing at attention between his legs. He kept absolutely still, his enhanced senses quivering, and at just the right moment jabbed his left hand out to the side, feeling a keen sense of satisfaction when he connected hard with the flesh of his younger brother’s chest.

He heard a soft thump as his brother hit the ground, and he whirled around, crouching low, a wicked smile playing across his features.

He hadn’t seen Jagger in almost six months.
They’d hooked up when Jaxon had returned to the States briefly, but since then he’d remained incognito. Jaxon was hoping to run into him at some point, considering the cabin belonged to him, but when he arrived last night, it was obvious the place had been deserted for quite a while.

His brother rubbed the back of his head gingerly as he slowly gained his feet. “I should have downed you ten minutes ago. I would have too, but seeing as certain parts of your body were a little vulnerable, I thought it best to give you a chance to wind down. I mean, that thing looked so rigid I was afraid it would snap in two.” He cracked a grin of his own. “My mistake, but it won’t happen again.”

Jaxon stared at his brother, noticing a hardness that gripped the features so like his own. Jagger was taller then he was, by a couple of inches, putting him at six-foot-six, his frame powerful and deadly. He had followed in his older brother’s footsteps and gone into the military, much to their father’s dismay, and done several tours of duty in Iraq.

All black ops, all deadly; the kind of missions a jaguar craved.

Something had happened over there. Jaxon wasn’t sure exactly what, but his brother returned from Iraq a changed man. Jagger resigned his commission when his last tour was over and had then spent the majority of his time on the road. Where he’d been and what he had been up to wasn’t something he’d shared.

Jaxon knew his brother was finding his way. And a hard one, that was. Being a jaguar, especially one born with the warrior tattoo, was not an easy path
to follow. The animal fought with the human side constantly. It was a never-ending struggle, and one that could lead to destruction if not handled with maturity and balance. Something both his father and older brother had never had to deal with.

But he knew that his brother would be fine. Jagger was a Castille, after all.

“I see you finally found Libby.”

Jaxon’s head whipped up at his brother’s comment, his eyes narrowing at the mention of her name. “When did you see Libby?”

Jagger paused, a wicked glint lighting his eyes a deeper shade of green. “Well, hell Jaxon, I’ve already had tea and cookies with her.”

Jaxon hissed his displeasure at the thought of Jagger anywhere near Libby, and took an aggressive step toward him, stopping just short of physical action when his brother laughingly slapped him in the chest.

“Down boy! I’m just playing ya. Christ, I haven’t been close enough to even lay eyes on her. I had just caught her scent and begun to follow it when I saw you crashing through my trees all bent out of shape and, well…” His voice trailed off, and the two brothers laughed, their voices echoing through the thick stand of trees that surrounded them.

“So, what’s her story? When did you track her down?” Jagger asked.

Jaxon sighed tiredly, easing his way back from the edge that had been riding him for the last couple of days.

“I was sent intel, pointing me in her direction. She’s been in Michigan for about two months, as far
as I can gather. Before that, who knows where the hell she was.” His voice thickened as the still lingering anger began to brew once more.

“It was a setup. I went to Michigan, meant to put a bullet in her head, but something held me back. Instead, I deviated from protocol, went to the diner where she was working and gave some fucking bastard a nice clear shot at my ass. I took Libby, and we’ve been running ever since. They used her to follow my movements, and attacked the loft in Manhattan.” Jaxon shook his head, remembering the carnage and chaos. “We had to bail and destroy the base. We arrived here several hours ago.”

“Who’s we?”

“I called in Declan and Ana.”

“I’m sure that was one hell of a reunion. It’s a wonder Libby is still alive and breathing.”

Jaxon snarled, “She’s alive for now only because we need her.”

Jagger moved away, his voice soft as he contemplated his brother. “You sure that’s the only reason?”

“What are you getting at?” Jaxon was breathing hard as he rounded on his brother, his body humming with an energy that was shouting for release. He was itching for a fight, and Jagger knew it.

“All I’m saying is you went to Michigan to take out the bitch who basically put a bullet in Diego’s brain.” He shrugged, and met his brother’s eyes dead on. “She’s still alive, and you’re walking around with a raging hard-on,” Jagger continued, even as Jaxon snarled savagely and lunged for his brother. “You do the math.”

The two of them tumbled to the ground hard, Jagger grunting at the force of Jaxon’s hit. They
both rolled toward the center of the clearing, chests heaving and curses flying. When Jaxon’s bare back slammed into the sharpened wood remains that littered the ground, he swore loudly and threw his brother off.

They were up and facing each other in seconds, both aggressive and smiling wickedly at the joy they got out of physical sparring. Jaxon’s eyes briefly flickered over the remains of the fire, and the joy he felt left him quickly.

He relaxed his stance and pointed out the area to his brother. Jagger knelt down and sniffed the ground. “Seems a shifter has been trespassing on my land. You recognize the scent? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

“It’s not something I’ve come across before.” Jaxon continued to peer deep into the forest, but he knew there would be no more clues. “Whoever it was is long gone. I’d say about a day or so. I don’t think it’s connected to Libby. We only just got here.”

Jagger was quiet, his lips tense, and Jaxon was beginning to think his brother wasn’t so surprised to see evidence of someone on his land.

“You have any ideas?”

His brother turned toward him, face blank and unreadable. “A few.”

Jaxon eyed him closely. “You sure everything’s all right?”

Jagger laughed at that. “Last time I looked, I wasn’t the one running around in the woods with a hard-on.” His grin didn’t let up even as Jaxon scowled. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Jaxon turned and began to head back toward the cabin. “I need to get back to the house. Ana and
Declan should hopefully have some answers for me. You care to come along?”

Jagger laughed as he smacked Jaxon on the back. “So now I need an invitation to enter my own home?” He snorted as a new round of laughter bubbled up from deep in his chest. “Is everybody naked? Or are you the only one feeling the need to air out your junk?”

L
ibby ran as hard and as fast as she could, not stopping until she reached the cabin. The stitch in her side ached beyond belief, and her fingers itched to massage the throbbing area, but they were busy holding the shredded remains of her top together.

The top
he
had ripped apart.

Her face flushed a deep crimson. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her body, the roughness of them as they’d touched her flesh. She couldn’t lie to herself. She had wanted him as much as he’d wanted her, if not more. She groaned softly as she thought of his hot, wet mouth against her breast.

When he took her aching nipple deep into his mouth, even through the material of her top she’d felt the heat began to burn bright, hard, and demanding deep within. The ache she felt at her core still throbbed, painfully unfulfilled.

Their bodies had connected and it felt…so natural.

As if they’d done it before.

That thought brought her to a jarring halt just as her hand was reaching for the door. Had they been lovers? Was that the answer to the bitterness that haunted his eyes when he looked at her?

She hesitated, her teeth nibbling at her lips as she contemplated that thought. Images of the two of them, naked, limbs entwined, flew behind her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, wondering if they were imagined or memories from her past.

Why can’t I remember?

“Guess we’ll have to see if Ana has any clothes she can lend you. Don’t think they’ll fit, though. She’s a little less endowed up top.”

Libby turned toward the swing, noticing, for the first time, Declan sitting there, drinking in her state of undress.

“What happened? Didn’t like the fashion choice Ana picked for you?”

Tears began to prick the backs of her eyes, and Libby struggled to maintain control of her emotions, her fingers desperately trying to keep the ends of the shirt held tight over her heaving breasts.

His eyes followed her movements, and humiliation was added to the host of emotions that ripped through her.

“You must love seeing me like this.” Her voice was tremulous, but she held on, fighting to remain steady. “Confused and pathetic.”

She shuffled over until she was a few feet from him, feeling as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes sat on her slight shoulders. The tears she’d tried
to hold back burst through, coursing down her cheeks.

“Why can’t you people just tell me who I am and what I’ve done? Why these games? Why can’t I remember anything past the last two months of my life? And why is this ache inside of me getting bigger?”

Declan continued to study her in silence, his face unreadable.

“Why am I not totally freaked out by the fact that Ana appears to be a vampire? I mean, that can’t be possible, and Jaxon just…just…” She couldn’t finish the thought. She was so tired of being confused.

“We think someone has used a memory charm on you, a powerful one at that. It’s preventing you from remembering all the delicious little details that I would love nothing more than to pull from your brain.” He smiled coldly at her, his loathing barely contained. “And I would try, but you would most likely not live through it.”

He looked away, as if the sight of her made him sick. “It will eventually fade, as the originator of the spell is no longer with you. Once that happens, you will remember everything, whether you want to or not.”

Declan’s words were matter of fact, nonchalant even, but his body language told a different story. There was so much more to all of this, but one thing was clear: if she jumped in the lake and never resurfaced, he would not jump in to save her.

His dislike was thick and meaty.

“Why won’t you just tell me who the fuck I am?” Her voice came from deep inside her chest, shooting
upward with an anger that hung in the air between them.

“Your name is Libby Jamieson, and once you were part of a military unit.” Ana’s voice was soft and floated on the wind, winding its way toward Libby, encircling her with its silky texture. “Our unit, actually.” Ana paused briefly, her eyes sweeping over Libby to land on Declan.

“We were antiterror and specialized in operations that our counterparts were ill-equipped to handle. It was a unique unit and one that you really didn’t belong in.”

Libby stared at her, not comprehending the meaning of her words.

Ana sighed impatiently. “You were human, and the rest of us…well, we’re not.”

Libby opened her mouth to speak and shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. But then, recalling Jaxon morphing from a wild animal into man, she stared at the other woman and remained silent.

“I know it’s a lot to comprehend,” Ana said. “Most humans don’t know any of us exist. It seems these days the only ones that do are looking to use our strengths and differences in order to do something illegal.”

Ana smiled hesitantly. “Yes, I’m a vampire. I’ve lived for over three hundred years, and no, I wasn’t
made
. It is forbidden for my kind to do so. I was born what I am.” She motioned toward Declan. “As was Dec, and Jaxon our resident jaguar.”

Ana motioned for her to follow her back inside the cabin, and Libby looked to Declan, but he had
already turned away from her. She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and squared her shoulders. She wasn’t sure what to believe anymore, and the pounding behind her eyes was slowly wearing her down.

She rubbed her temple wearily and joined Ana inside the cabin. The other woman gently grabbed her arm. The touch of Ana’s hand was bittersweet. It had been so long since anyone had touched her with compassion, but still, she could sense that the woman was holding back. As if it was a struggle for her to touch and to comfort.

Wild thoughts began to race through her mind. As she shook her head, they became louder, the pain building into a pounding migraine that set her teeth on edge as wave after wave crashed through her. So many thoughts and pictures.

What had she done to them?
What had she done to herself?

Her mind was reeling, but the cool touch of Ana’s fingers at her back, stiff as they were, felt somehow reassuring. It was sad, really, how starved for a connection she’d become.

Any kind of connection.

“I am so tired.”

She felt beat, and let Ana lead her back to the bedroom that she’d woken up in a few hours earlier. She still clutched the two ends of her shirt together, and cringed when Ana turned abruptly and spoke softly. “I have another shirt that should fit you. Hold on and I’ll grab it.”

Shame darkened her cheeks a deep red, and she could only nod in acceptance of the other woman’s kind gesture.

Libby sat down on the bed and turned onto her side, welcoming the soft feel of cotton against her cheek.

She closed her eyes, and exhaustion hung on her slight frame, weighing her down until she succumbed to its demanding pull.

When Ana returned a few minutes later, she found Libby fast asleep. She placed a clean T-shirt on the table next to the bed and left as silently as she’d come.

The smell of food eventually brought her around.

Libby’s eyes flew open and nightfall was evident from the shadows lurking about the corners. She was still in the room she’d woken up in, and someone had been kind enough to leave a small nightlight glowing. Its arc was small but it lit the room enough for her to see, and for that she was grateful. She hated the dark and all the monsters that accompanied it.

Voices could be heard outside her room and down the hall, several in fact, and she strained her ears trying to discern their identities. After a few moments she knew that Jaxon, Declan, and Ana were all present, and two other men.

She would have preferred to stay in her room, safely hidden. But her stomach was painfully protesting its empty state, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the scent of barbecue was wafting deliciously in the air.

She swung her legs over, and was up before she convinced herself to stay behind, which was something she might have done a few days earlier. Hell, a week ago she’d have stayed holed up in the bedroom until she passed out from hunger.

The thought of confronting the man she’d almost made love to would have been unimaginable. Especially considering he could change from a deadly predator into just about the sexiest male she had ever laid eyes on.

Cool air caressed her breasts, and she swore.
Shit!
She’d forgotten about the torn shirt.

Her fingers closed the gaping fabric as her eyes frantically searched the room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted a neatly folded shirt left on the side table, and immediately made the switch.

The T-shirt was a little on the small side, way too tight across the chest for comfort, and she hesitated for a moment, hating the way it drew attention to her body.

Well, it’s not like he hasn’t seen them
.

Libby snorted at that thought, not liking the heat that flushed her cheeks, and in the end it was the sharp emptiness in her gut that urged her forward. She quickly left the room and walked with calm steps, head held high, until she entered the large open area where everyone was congregated.

All conversation stopped, and she felt the heat of five separate pairs of eyes. Jaxon was to her extreme right, so she ignored that direction completely, focusing on the one friendly face she could see.

It belonged to an older gentleman, his weathered eyes crinkled in greeting, but the warmth disappeared entirely as Jaxon growled like an animal from the end of the table.

She faltered for a second, smiled tentatively at the older man, and walked toward the kitchen counter where the remnants of a meal lay scattered on several plates.

All that was left was the discards. Well, that and a glass that held about an inch of a dark red substance. Thinking of Ana, her stomach flipped over, and she looked away from what was obviously blood.

Libby stood there like an idiot, trying to ignore the silence that weighed on her like a slab of concrete. She knew everyone at the table was watching her, and she had the insane urge to make an obscene gesture behind her back. She actually raised her hand, but thought better of it, and walked around the counter, hoping there might be some leftovers.

There was nothing.

To her right, past the wall of windows, she spied two large dogs sprawled on the porch. They were happily gnawing away at several large bones. Pain sliced through her at the sight.

Jaxon had thought to feed his dogs. Nice.

The dogs got steak and bones, and she…well, she got dick all.

Once again she was at the low end of the pecking order. She inhaled softly, wanting to cry but fighting it.

She would no longer show weakness.

If she was to survive these next few days, she would have to toughen up and look after herself.

Screw Jaxon and his crew.

She turned toward the cupboards then and opened the nearest ones. They were empty, save for a few pots and pans and several boxes of cereal. She grabbed the first box, but as she lifted it, realized it was empty.

Figures.

The cheese!

She slammed the cupboard closed, maybe too loudly, but by now she didn’t give a shit. She was starving, and if there was nothing left but cheese again, well, that sure as hell beat sucking back a cup of blood.

Her hopes were once more dashed by the pitiful lump of cheese that had been left in place of the large block she had seen earlier. She grabbed the measly leftover and turned back toward the far cupboard, wanting to grab the box of crackers she’d spotted before.

As luck would have it, the box had been stowed away on a shelf just out of her reach. Blind anger shot through her, and she hissed as she tried to grab it with the tips of her fingers. Her side ached as the muscles pulled, but she ignored the twinge and focused on getting the box down.

The room was still silent, and knowing that all five of them were watching her struggle, her body was flushed with heat. She pictured the smirks that were likely on their faces and gritted her teeth.

She couldn’t get to the box and hung her head in defeat. Her stomach growled loudly, echoing into the silence that surrounded her, and she turned abruptly, ignoring the faces to her left, and walked toward a large chair that overlooked the magnificent view.

Libby fell into its softness with a thump, a small gasp escaping her as the impact jarred her already aching ribs. She held her head proudly as she began to gnaw on the cheese.

A chair was scraped back loudly, and then she heard footsteps banging across the tiles. It was fol
lowed by grumbling, cursing, and cupboards slamming, and she paused, chewing her food softly while trying to appear uninterested.

She heard the spray of water and cringed, turning her head to avoid whoever was making a bee-line for her.

A hand at her shoulder startled her. It was the old man, and he offered her a plate of crackers that also held a bunch of freshly washed grapes.

Libby was touched. She took the plate from him, nodding in thanks, not trusting her voice.

“We’re not all animals here. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t think to leave you a plate myself.”

The man turned around and headed toward the front door. “I’m going for a smoke, and don’t want no company.”

The door slammed behind him, and Libby smiled at his grumbling words. Yep, screw Jaxon and his crew.

She hungrily attacked the cheese and crackers, thinking they tasted even better than earlier in the day. The grapes were large, green, and incredibly sweet. She enjoyed every single one immensely, and when she was done, licked her fingers slowly, savoring the last sweet taste.

Movement in the window drew her eyes, and she was startled at the clear picture reflected in the large panes. She could observe the table behind her unnoticed, and she sank farther into the comfort of the chair as she settled back to look.

Conversation had resumed, but the words were soft, muted, and even though she strained her ears, she couldn’t catch anything.

She could see them all clearly, and found herself
searching for Jaxon. He was sitting at the end of the table, deep in serious conversation with Declan. To his right sat a man who leaned back carelessly in his chair, long legs sprawled out in front of him. He was massive, and as her eyes met his in the window, she gasped loudly.