Back From Hell (5 page)

Handy.

But damn it, she didn’t feel like carting his ass a mile up the road.

* * * * *

Ronan heard the struggle. Sliding from the car, he closed the door behind him and crossed the parking lot on silent, swift feet.

Fists meeting flesh, a solid crash as somebody fell.

More hitting. Voices. “Little wolf bitch…think you can take me…” Jenai didn’t respond to any of the taunts and black fear curdled in his gut. Was she hurt?

Ragged grunts, then silence.

He damn near tore through the door, but then he stilled. Ronan could scent her, hear the heavy, ragged breaths as she gasped for air, and then…her voice.

“C’mon, little sis…wake up…”

And as she murmured to her sister and they talked about cleaning up the mess, Ronan leaned against the wall just outside and lifted his eyes heavenward, silently mouthing a prayer of relief.

Headlights gleamed from the highway and as a car turned in, Ronan grimaced. Grimly, he moved away from the doorway, walking casually toward his car as the other vehicle stopped in front of the office.

* * * * *

His mate needed to learn to clean up her trail a little better, Ronan mused as he finished with the security tapes in the hotel’s office. Even these low-rate, one-star deals had cameras anymore.

And this one had caught Jenai King arriving in a sharp little black Spider, following Brad closely as he and Steph drove to the hotel.

While Jenai was doing her cleanup, he moved out of the office, pausing by the still clerk and waving his hand in front of his sightless eyes.

“You can wake up now.”

By the time the clerk had come out of his daze, Ronan was striding across the parking lot and climbing into his car.

Jenai would have to finish the rest of this up on her own. He had to get back to that bar—if anybody remembered seeing those two lovely ladies leave with a man who was now a corpse, they had to be dealt with.

Wiping memories wasn’t something Ronan was particularly fond of, but sometimes it was necessary.

* * * * *

Two days later, Jenai basked in the warm golden light of the sun, stretching her arms high over her head and arching her back.

Finally, a little time off. She hadn’t had any more dark dreams, and both Steph and she felt at peace. Which meant time off.

When the urge came to hunt, that was what they had to do, and those urges had been on them hard and heavy for the past two years.

The thought of a few days, maybe even a few weeks, of doing nothing sounded like sheer bliss.

Maybe she could get this rage under control, that driving need that had been riding her for years. Anger gave her an edge, gave her a fire, but it could get her killed. And she wasn’t about to leave Steph alone. Nor was she about to leave this world without taking her parents’ killer with her.

Every time she had thought she’d have a chance to breathe, something had turned up, either reports of murders on the tube, in the paper, or just something whispering
evil
inside its mind.

Sometimes, being a Night Stalker was a damn thankless job. No vacations, no pay. They lived off a trust fund that Dominick had established for them years ago. The Kings were a very,
very
rich family—and Dominick saw to it that his girls were taken care of.

Sighing, Jenai laced her fingers behind her head, keeping her eyes closed. Although the sun wasn’t dangerous to her, her eyes were sensitive and even staring up at the brilliant blue made her eyes water.

Her skin prickled just moments before somebody knocked on the door. Even from out here, she felt the person’s arrival, even though she hadn’t heard a vehicle drive up. She smelled something…odd.

Vaguely familiar somehow. When the knock came, the pit of her belly dropped out and she sat up slowly, her hands closing into loose fists. Her breath came raggedly and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to make sense of her odd reaction.

Steph was inside, so Jenai didn’t get up, but something inside her was tight and hot. Jenai shifted restlessly on the lounge, feeling goose bumps break out over her flesh. Cold didn’t affect her—the sixty-degree sunshine definitely wasn’t sunbathing weather, but the lure of the sun was more than she could resist.

Until now.

For some reason, the calm, peaceful lassitude that had settled around her was broken, and she felt tense and nervous. Long moments passed, and that scent, the one she had smelled just before the knock on the door, flooded the air as Steph opened the French door that led from the house to the deck.

Damn, it was intoxicating. Mouthwatering—and why in the hell was it so familiar?

Man…hot, rich man. In the cool, early spring air, she felt her nipples tighten and stab into the fabric of the swimsuit she wore.

Slowly, Jenai sat up and met Steph’s eyes for a moment before she moved her gaze to the man standing behind Steph.

“I think you need to come inside, sis,” Steph said levelly. Even though her tone was easy—casual even—Jenai heard something lurking there that had a chill running down her spine.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the lounge chair, she grabbed the long fishnet tee she had tossed down on the ground earlier. Drawing it over her head, she stood, running her tongue along her teeth, feeling the incisors drop just a little.

The man standing in their kitchen was downright biteable.

In so many ways… Jenai licked her lips before she could stop that instinctive female reaction. Broad shoulders strained against the shoulders of a cream-colored shirt, the waffle weave clinging to the well-developed muscles in his chest and arms, his golden skin gleaming against the pale cloth of the shirt.

His hair was thick and dark, pulled back from his face and secured at his nape in a stubby ponytail. The angles and hollows of his face looked so familiar…

His eyes…
oh, shit
.

His eyes.

“You.”

A smile curved his lips, and that smile, she knew it. Had seen it hundreds of times—in the world of dreams.

Deep, dark, midnight blue eyes that could see straight through her. Eyes she had stared into a hundred times, a thousand, as he invaded her dreams and touched her, bringing her a pleasure like nothing she had ever known.

“Jenai,” he drawled, tipping his head toward her in a way that was…old-fashioned, almost courtly, an old world gesture that seemed out of place in the bright white, ultra-modern kitchen.

“How in the hell did you find me?” she demanded harshly. All the dreams—dreams she hadn’t been able to remember—were now suddenly as clear as day, vivid and brilliant in their clarity.

One broad shoulder lifted and Ronan said, “I told you before—several times—I’d find you, if it took me until the end of time.”

Stephanie was staring at them with baffled eyes. “What in the hell is going on?” she asked. “Jenai, you know this guy?”

Jenai swallowed. Her throat was so tight, it damn near hurt. “Sort of,” she said gruffly.

Ronan grinned. “Sort of? Is that the best you can do?”

Jenai narrowed her eyes, glaring at him furiously. “Go
away
.”

“Well,” Ronan said, studying her with patient, amused eyes. “Well, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t exactly do that, sweet. And I don’t want to, but that’s not the issue. You see…there’s a bit of a problem.”

“What sort of problem?” she demanded flatly.

A small smile curved his lips, totally at odds with his eyes, which had chilled to ice. She felt something coming from him—a deep, awful rage.

And Jenai didn’t particularly care for the fact that she
could
feel anything from him. It didn’t bode too well for her hopes to avoid anything else destiny planned to throw into her path.

“Some people want you dead.”

Jenai smiled, a slow curve of her lips, as she lowered herself to the barstool, propping her elbows on the wooden counter. “Really? Just some? Stephanie, we need to work harder.”

Ronan chuckled for a moment. “Damn, but you are a stubborn thing, pet. These aren’t exactly run-of-the-mill rogues like the ones you two lovely ladies hunt.”

Jenai’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t ever told him what she did. And she knew damn well he couldn’t see inside her mind unless she let him. So there was no fucking way he could know about that.

Ronan met her glare levelly. “The people I work for watch people like you very closely, Jenai. They didn’t just flat out tell me that I was supposed to kill you—but they want you either on their side or out of the game.”

“And exactly who are
they
?” Jenai asked. Behind her, she heard Stephanie moving closer and then her sister’s hand came up, resting on Jenai’s shoulder, linking them.

“A government agency. Just comprised of people like us instead of the average paper-pusher or spy.”

“People like us?” Stephanie queried softly.

“Hmmm. People not human.”

A chill raced down Jenai’s back. There was something in his eyes that had her worried. And that was because
he
was worried. She knew him—hell, she didn’t know some things, like what in the hell he was, or what his favorite food was—but she knew
him
. If he was worried, she damn well ought to be.

As he started to speak, Jenai realized though, concentrating was going to be a damn hard job. Even if she closed her eyes, she could still smell him, still hear his voice. There was the faintest hint of a Scottish accent in that deep, sexy voice—almost as sexy as Sean Connery. And the package that came with this voice was amazing. Wide-spaced, dark blue eyes, thick, straight hair the color of mink, a square face, stubble darkening his jaw, a mouth that she’d felt against hers a hundred times. In dreams.

Right now, she wanted to feel it against hers in the flesh. Against
her
flesh. And damn it, this wasn’t the time!

Forcing herself to focus, she met his eyes as he continued to speak.

“I was told to recruit you. That’s their preferred method of operation when they encounter an
autre
who operates the way you two do. But if you don’t join us, they want you dead.”

Her voice flat, Jenai asked, “Do they frequently order you to kill people?”

Ronan’s lips tugged up in a smile. “Well, that’s not my specialty. But regardless, this is a first. I’ve never heard them boiling it down to
join us or die
.”

“Rather
Star Wars
-esque, isn’t it?” Stephanie asked. Although her voice was level enough, Jenai heard the undercurrent of fear and anger there. Reaching up, she covered Stephanie’s hand with hers and thought-spoke to her sister,
It will be okay, sis
.

Meeting Ronan’s eyes, she shoved aside her dislike of fate, destiny and meant-to-bes and focused on the issue at hand. “You aren’t here to kill either of us.”

Ronan’s eyes heated and Jenai felt the warmth of that look as though he’d actually run a hand over her. Her nipples tightened, her belly went hot and achy, and deep in her sex she started to throb. Forcing a shaky breath into her lungs, she tried to block out that low, sexy voice as he murmured, “Killing you is the last thing I plan on doing, pet. The very last thing.”

I can only imagine what the first thing is
, she thought fleetingly as she tore her gaze away from his and tried to still the raging fire that was now sweeping through her body.

“This agency—who are they?” she finally managed to say, keeping her eyes tightly closed, focusing on the slow, rhythmic beat of her own heart as she tried to concentrate.

Ronan arched a brow at her. “We’re peacekeepers. We kill the bad guys, plain and simple. Well, it used to be that simple. But that’s the basic reason it was started.”

Jenai asked levelly, “Who decides who the bad guys are?”

“Why in the world do I hear such skepticism from you?” he asked quietly. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on the counter, staring at her.

She stifled the urge to reach out and touch him. With him standing so close, though, it was hard. So many times, she’d awakened from dreams of him, of them together, her body aching with want. And now he was here. But touching him was the last thing she needed to be doing right now.

Forcing her mind back to his comment, she shrugged and said, “Comes naturally, I guess.” She squeezed Stephanie’s hand one final time and then she slid off the barstool, pacing the brightly lit kitchen. “I’ve been doing what I do for a while now. And before I did it, it was done by somebody close to me. I’ve never heard of an agency like the one you’re talking about.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but as he spoke, she resisted the urge to turn around and stare at him. Looking into his eyes, at his mouth, his hands—none of that was making it any easier to think.

“You’re isolated,” Ronan said quietly. “When you work alone, you don’t always hear everything that goes on outside your little sphere. Besides, we don’t exactly leave things behind for people to ask a lot of questions, and we don’t exactly advertise ourselves, either. I imagine your mama knew about us—but…” his voice trailed off and she saw sympathy in his dark gaze.

Clenching her jaw, she steeled herself against the emotions she saw in his eyes as she stared blankly back at him. “Hmmm. Well, Steph and I work alone,” she said, shrugging.

Ronan laughed. “Hell, I bloody well know that. Anybody with eyes could see you two like operating just the way you are. But that doesn’t change the fact that for some reason, they want you dead.”

Jenai started at the low, almost drugged sound of Stephanie’s voice and any reply she might have made died in her throat as she turned and stared at Stephanie. She was staring at Ronan as though entranced, but it wasn’t Ronan that she saw, Jenai suspected.

“You have a cloud of death hovering all over you, McAdams,” Stephanie whispered.

Cloud of death
… Jenai froze as Steph’s words sank in. Steph wasn’t psychic, but she was attuned to the land around them, and the land—it whispered to her. Hell, judging from the look on her sister’s face, the land wasn’t whispering—it was screaming.