Mating Fever (13 page)

Gabriel tore his mouth away from hers,
heaving for air, collapsing on top of her, shaking with the
explosive force of climax. Her body was melting, dissolving into
the hard ground. Jessica sobbed with relief and fading pleasure,
quaking as he pulled away from her, his cock breaking the suction
of her body with an erotically wet sound.

She closed her eyes, trying to reform the
pieces of her body. She was so weak ... bruised ... raw ...
satisfied. She should’ve been ashamed--she wasn’t.

He recovered while she was still gathering
herself, trying to think of something she should say or do. He
gently kissed the slope of her shoulder before moving away. The
loss of his heat and presence resonated through her.

She lay still, knowing he watched her
expectantly, waiting for her excuses. Jessica couldn’t look at him.
She felt the heat of his gaze on her, knew he was pissed. His anger
crackled in the air, as palpable to her as a slap. If she opened
her eyes, she’d see it for certain. She couldn’t take condemnation
now, not after what they’d done, what she’d begged him to do.

“Look at me,
chere
,” he commanded. His voice was deadly
soft.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw him
standing above her, studying her with an expression that had her
quaking inside.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me
you were a virgin?”

Her heart thumped hard in her chest. “I
didn’t think it mattered that much. I kind of forgot.”

Gabriel bit off a curse, his French unable to
soften its rough violence. His hands shook as though he meant to
touch her again. He ran them savagely through his hair, his jaw
knotted, his muscles tense.

Jessica swallowed hard, sat up and
immediately saw the blood on her thighs. It was pink with the
mixture of semen and her own creamy juices. She felt ill all of a
sudden, raw inside. She pushed her dress down before he had a
chance to see it.

He did. He looked more angry than ever. “I
would never have touched you--” He broke the words off with a
furious growl, as though too pained to utter them. He rubbed his
face, shielding his eyes from the sight of her.

Jessica stood on her knees, reaching for him,
ignoring his semi-soft erection and smeared groin. “I don’t regret
it, Gabriel.”

He flinched away from her, grabbing her wrist
before she could touch him. Warning glittered in his eyes,
roughened his voice to a growl. “If you don’t want me to fuck you
senseless again, don’t touch me.”

The coarse hue of his voice made her tremble,
rubbed against her insides like the hot, hard stroke of a tongue.
Oh god, even now, surrounded by danger, aching and sore inside, she
wanted him again. The explosive climax had fried brain cells. She
felt like an addict, in need of a fix, desperate to have it again.
She withdrew her hand from his hold as though burned. The intensity
of feeling frightened her, set warnings to ringing in her head.

He turned his head, sniffing the air. “You
have ta go. Now. I can hold them off long enough for you to
escape.”

Jessica stood, alarm heightening her reflexes
and lending speed to her muscles. She wouldn’t do it--he didn’t
deserve to face this alone, though she had no idea how she could
help him, or how many foes they would face. She shook her head,
resolute. “No. I can’t leave you here to die.”

“They won’t kill me,
petite
. They will if you’re here to
confirm what we done. You can’t erase my mark on you.”

He was lying. The bastard wanted to
protect her. He was crazy.
She
was crazy. “Why is this happening? What do they
want?”

He was quiet a long moment. She could see he
battled himself, striving to contain something, some secret.
Curiosity burned in her, stronger than her desire to flee.

He grabbed her chin, forced her to look
straight into his eyes so that she couldn’t escape what he was
going to tell her. She flinched at his hard grip. His eyes softened
and he eased his hold.

“You’re Lycan, as I am....” He drew in a hard
breath, continuing on before she could respond, “Werewolves,
Jessica. I didn’t want to tell you before. I knew your father.”

She slapped his hand away, feeling sudden,
immense betrayal. “What? Stop lying to me!” She wanted to scream,
kick something, rip something--anything to shreds to satisfy the
hurt searing her mind.

He grabbed her, halted the violence
shimmering inside as he hugged her fiercely. He forced her to feel
the comfort of his body. He laid kisses against the top of her
head, moved through the tangle of her hair to her ear, speaking in
a soft, strained voice. “It’s not lies. He didn’t want this life
for you. Your mother died in the birthin’. He sent you away in
secret that night, to keep you from changin’, to keep you from
bein’ our whore. The pack found out, imprisoned him. He killed
himself to protect you, so no Lycan could ever find you.”

Gabriel shuddered against her once the words
had spilled out. He breathed brokenly behind her ear, ragged
against her neck--her pain his own.

Anguish, raw and severe, grated her
mind. She closed her eyes, swallowing past the lump in her
throat.
Suicide
...? It
couldn’t be true. None of this could be true. Gabriel couldn’t be
much older than she was, maybe thirtyish, he couldn’t possibly have
known her father. It wasn’t possible. He was insane ... or a liar
... or both.

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, pushing
away from him, missing the heat of his arms already. She was weak,
too needy, too vulnerable to him. She didn’t want to believe him,
couldn’t. It was too hard to stretch her imagination so far, no
matter how much her conscience told her he spoke the truth.

The look he bestowed on her was hurt,
radiating regret. The anger had seeped from him, leaving the
haunted man she’d seen briefly before. Guilt assailed her, twisting
in her gut. She felt as though she’d plunged a knife into him, as
though it wasn’t she who’d been delivered devastating news, but a
reversal. What fate had conspired in her life to deliver such
agony, such fierce desires and aching loss?

“Believe what you will,” he said softly,
painfully. “Da truth will come, soon enough. Now you must go.”

Gabriel turned his back on her, striding from
the tent. She knew he was going to his death, and there was nothing
she could do to stop him.

Chapter Eight

The ground was littered with death traps and
mutilators; roots, rocks, prickly pears, and other objects and
obstructions she couldn’t place with her limited senses in her
nearly blind state. The moon had already begun its descent, glowing
gold above the treetops, filtering through the canopy like
scattered rain. Her feet and legs bled from her headlong rush, but
she ignored the pain, running through the woods at an insane pace,
praying she wouldn’t fall and break something.

She had to get help. They were going to kill
Gabriel, possibly even come after her. But that didn’t matter
nearly so much as what she imagined him to be going through, what
tortures they’d devised. Thinking about it quickened her pace,
stole the breath from her lungs, made her heart gallop in her
chest. She knew for certain now that they were some kind of cult,
and being in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing to stop them
from doing exactly what they wanted to Gabriel.

Jessica realized it didn’t matter what
Gabriel or she believed, the danger was still real. He could be
saved from their brain washing, but only if she could get to the
police in time. She bit back the exhausted sobs, trying to stay
focused, calm. Hysteria loomed under the surface, threatening to
consume at any unguarded moment.

The moon guided her, dipping in the sky,
foretelling the late hour. It had to be after midnight, probably
later. The streets would be dead in town. She kept the moon’s
position fixed and headed east, always glancing past the tree tops
to make sure she hadn’t strayed off course. She didn’t dare try to
find the road and follow it, even if it would speed her progress.
They could be looking for her, even now. The road would be a death
trap.

The wind picked up, rustling through the
trees with a whistling rush. Branches rattled above her, shaking
dried leaves to flutter to the ground. Her hair twisted and writhed
in the breeze like a live thing, flying into her face and mouth
until she was blinded completely by the thrashing tendrils.

A howl rippled through the night like the
toll of a death knell, spelling her doom. The wail rose again,
undulating on the air like some foul caress, followed by an excited
call--words indistinguishable but instantly recognizable for what
they were.

Fright froze her to the spot, clenched her
heart in a painful, breath stealing grip. Ice flooded her veins,
swallowing her, replacing calm with instant, dread panic.

Jesus! Oh god, oh god, oh
god
.... They were after her. The howls, the howls were
coming closer, everywhere, all around. She shook her head, covering
her ears, trying to block the noise, fighting down the mind numbing
panic. But muffling their calls only worsened her fear. She dropped
her arms, cocking her head, trying to gain their position, heard
them above her.

Something fluttered in the treetops, briefly
blocked her view of the stars. It had to be a bird, an owl,
something--anything else. She was going crazy, it wasn’t possible.
Men couldn’t fly, the woods were distorting the sound.

They had to be behind her.

Jessica tore off in a run, ignoring the
stitch in her side, the stinging, tearing brambles, the grate of
bark on her skin as she ran into trunks and pressed on. Her lungs
froze with the crisp air. Her throat felt raw from dragging each
breath in, fighting blackness that swam in and out of her vision,
threatening unconsciousness.

Wind roared around her, whipping her hair and
dress into a frenzy, forcing debris into her eyes. She shielded her
face, kept running, tried to listen past the thundering in her
ears, but the forest had grown deathly silent, giving no
warning.

She ran into a trunk, bouncing off it onto
the ground. The breath knocked from her lungs at the impact,
forcing her to drag in shaky lungfuls of air. Her body felt
bruised, battered beyond belief. She blinked the dirt out of her
eyes, laughing hysterically at herself, forcing the macabre giggles
back.

It was then that she saw the legs.

* * * *

She was surrounded. The hysterical laughter
died in an instant, replaced with quiet wariness. She cringed at
her weakness, despising herself, despising that she hadn’t run fast
enough, that she had no way to protect herself. She was so weary of
being hunted, almost to the point where she sadistically willed
them to end her constant, excruciating anxiety.

There were three of them, possibly more that
she couldn’t see. Their faces and arms were white, almost glowing
and paler than her own skin, seeming disembodied with the darkness
and their black attire.

One of them broke off from the trio,
approaching her and reaching for her face. Jessica hesitated on
taking off his fingers with her teeth, waiting to see if by chance
she’d merely over-reacted in her panic. She raised her eyes and
looked at him unflinchingly as he gently brushed the hair from the
tangle of her lashes.

“This is no Lycan,” he said, turning to the
others with his hand lingering in her hair.

The word aroused instant, gut-wrenching
pain.
Lycans
.... They knew of
Gabriel’s group, were possibly members themselves. No, that didn’t
seem right. She shook her head, trying to make sense of her
thoughts, but they jumbled around in her brain. Her ears buzzed,
whining like the hum of electronics.

They closed in, sniffing the air as though
scenting some delicacy had been pulled from an oven, ripe for
tasting.

One of the men snatched her hair, twisting
her face toward the sky. Jessica gritted her teeth against the
pain, raking her nails down his arm until he released her. In a
lightning-fast move, his hand snaked out and slapped her, drawing
blood from her mouth. Her lips throbbed with biting pain. She spat
out the sickening taste, resisting the urge to rub her mouth to
ease the pain.

He snickered, shaking his arm. “She bleeds. I
say we eat her and then continue on to their gathering place. This
hunt was not nearly as satisfying as I wished.”

Another audibly sniffed the air. “I smell
Lycan cock and pussy ... and blood. The hunger gnaws, I agree.”

“You will not touch me,” she ground out,
holding her hands as weapons.

“There is no one to stop us, not even your
Lycan lover.”

The words were a slap in the face. They
couldn’t know what she’d done, but they did. She didn’t believe
they smelled it--they must have come from that place. “What did you
do with him?” she screamed, struggling to her knees. “Where is
Gabriel? Did you ... kill him?” Her voice broke. She choked down a
sob.