Chosen by Blood (17 page)

Hunt smiled—well, wolfishly was the only way to describe it. “Not for an apple.”

In spite of herself, she choked and felt herself blush.

“Need water?”

She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Nope. I’m fine.”

“You certainly are.”

That made her laugh out loud. She shook her head, wiping at her watering eyes with her fingertips. “Good one.”

Looking anything but insulted, Hunt shrugged. “What can I say? It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone worth flirting with.”

Felicia made a big show of looking around her, then pointed at her chest. “Are you talking about me? Because I know you’re not attracted to me.”

Both Hunt’s brows popped into his hairline. “Is that a fact?”

“Yup.” Felicia took another bite of her apple, chewing thoughtfully as she tilted her head and surveyed Hunt.

“Like what you see?” He’d probably been going for a dark, sexy tone, but the werebeast sounded more annoyed than anything else.

“You knew Knox was going to beat you, so why challenge him?”

Hunt straightened, a frown furrowing his brows. “I knew no such thing. If he hadn’t used persuasion to disconnect from the mage—”

“He would have still kicked your ass. The only reason you got in as many punches as you did was because I was there, distracting him.”

Stepping closer to her, Hunt didn’t stop until his tight black T-shirt was two inches from the tips of her breasts. Felicia simply raised the apple to her mouth and sank her teeth in it.

Stepping back, Hunt shrugged. “Can’t blame a were for trying.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back against a stainless steel prep counter. “So where’d you learn the wrestling moves?”

“A girl’s got to keep her secrets, doesn’t she?”

He chuckled. “Depends why, I suppose. Some of those moves were Karakai, a uniquely Otherborn discipline. I’m wondering how you . . . Ah, right. Secrets,” Hunt said when Felicia just smiled. Suddenly Hunt sobered. “You should have left Lucy out of it, though.”

Felicia raised a brow. “Why? She’s obviously tougher than she looks. She offered, I accepted. Job completed, Knox’s expectations to the contrary. That is, we detained and questioned Randolph. It was a good lead for Knox to follow up on. The fact that Randolph knew nothing about Lafleur’s work with the FBI wasn’t Knox’s fault.”

“Sticking up for the vamp despite the fact he pissed you off yesterday, huh? You’re definitely a loyal one. Anyone can see you’ve got it bad for him. You really should give it a go. Vamps, at least the females I’ve been with, generally do anything and everything in bed.”

Something devilish urged Felicia to ask, “Even doggie style?”

The jab hit home.

Hunt frowned and reached for her. Quick as a snake, Felicia dropped the apple and grabbed Hunt’s wrist, twisting it behind him and shoving him into the metal island. Cutlery and bowls rattled to the floor, but Felicia pulled the were’s arm higher, wanting to hear him groan in pain.

Of course, he didn’t.

“Easy there, Red. All you had to do was ask.”

Felicia shoved him away from her. “You—”

“If you say bastard, I’m liable to puke,” said Wraith as she walked into the room. “We’re Others, for God’s sake. If we can’t come up with something more creative than that . . .”

Hunt straightened while Felicia picked up her apple and tossed it in the trash. “I’m not an Otherborn and neither are you,” Felicia snapped.

“So what am I?”

“You’re a dead human who can’t remember who she is or why she’s here.”

Instead of snapping back with her usual hostility, Wraith shrugged. “True, but I’m still classified as an Other in the Treaty and the UN’s resolution. That makes me—how should I put it?” She stretched her face into a farce of a grin, eyes wide and maniacal, lips straining to show every tooth in her mouth. She framed her face with her hands. “I know. Special,” she crooned. Lowering her hands, she glowered. “Believe me, I wish I were dead because I’m certainly bored enough. When is your boyfriend coming back so we can get started?”

“He’s not my boy—”

Caleb O’Flare, wearing nothing but a pair of loose boxers, stepped into the kitchen, yawning and scratching his chest. “Hey. Why wasn’t I invited to the party?”

If possible, Wraith’s features grew even tenser until she looked as if a soft breath would crack any semblance of control. “You’re supposed to be psychic, aren’t you? Figure it out.”

After another jaw-popping yawn, O’Flare pushed his hair out of his eyes and traced a disdainful look down the wraith’s form. “You wear your leather ensemble to bed, too?”

For a moment—just a fraction of a second—the wraith’s eyes seemed to flinch. “How do you know I’ve been to bed? Maybe I’ve been out on the town, seeing how the population of Quantico, Virginia, likes to have fun.”

“I’ll tell you how they like to have fun,” O’Flare said lazily. “The most important detail to remember? Corpses aren’t involved unless they can keep at least one hole—their mouth—shut.”

“Jesus, O’Flare,” Felicia exclaimed. Even Hunt had lowered his gaze to the floor, as if he didn’t want to be associated with that comment.

“What?” O’Flare frowned. “She started it.”

“Fuck you,” Wraith whispered before gliding away, her spine so straight it looked painful.

O’Flare watched her disappear through the doorway.

“Way to distract her from your hard-on, O’Flare.”

At Hunt’s words, Felicia’s eyes widened and dropped to the front of O’Flare’s boxers. Sure enough, the material was tented with what appeared to be a very long, very hard boner. How the hell had she missed that?

“Shut up, Hunt,” O’Flare muttered. He stomped out of the kitchen, nearly running into Lucy Talbot.

Great, Felicia thought. Might as well deal with everyone tonight. “At least Knox isn’t here,” she muttered under her breath.

Famous last words.

No sooner had O’Flare put a light hand on Lucy’s shoulder to steady her than Knox appeared behind them. Felicia’s breath caught the instant she saw him.

He’d avoided her yesterday, even as he’d run the team through intense physical exercises to assure himself of both their stamina and their fighting skills. Although she, like Lucy, didn’t have the others’ physical strength, she’d matched their stamina and mobility. At the firing range, her precision was beat only by Hunt and Wraith, who were classified as snipers. To Felicia, her ranking had been a momentous victory. It, like her performance in the bar with Randolph, proved not just that she deserved a spot on the team, but that she could function despite the overriding desire she felt anytime Knox came near her.

The same desire she felt now.

All she had to do was look at him and her pulse began a heavy throbbing beat between her thighs.

Knox’s gaze swept the room, instantly landing on Felicia, then on Hunt, who stood the closest to her. When Knox’s eyes sparked dangerously, Felicia instinctively took two steps away from Hunt.

Hunt’s chuckle stopped her. “Don’t worry,” he whispered loudly, clearly wanting Knox to hear him. “He doesn’t suspect a thing.”

“Where’s Wraith?” Knox demanded.

Everyone, including Lucy, who hadn’t even witnessed the wraith’s exit, stared at O’Flare. He shrugged. “Who knows? She only seems capable of saying two words in my presence, and usually they’re not meant as an invitation.”

“Everyone get dressed,” Knox said, “and meet me in the lower conference room in one hour.”

Felicia moved toward him as if pulled by an invisible string. If O’Flare and Lucy hadn’t already been blocking her path, she might have actually reached out for him. “What’s going on?”

Knox assessed her, his gaze so intense and probing that she felt vulnerable and exposed. Goose bumps dotted her arms and she was suddenly acutely aware of her bare breasts beneath her tank top. Her nipples had already tightened into small pebbles that probably stood out against the white cotton like headlights. She put a trembling hand on her forehead, wondering if her skin was actually as hot as it felt. Swallowing with difficulty, she forced herself to ask the question again.

Knox gave her the same answer. Nothing.

With a jerk of his chin, Knox said, “One hour.”

He walked away, leaving her to glare at the spot where he’d been standing.

The silence in the room was taut and prolonged. O’Flare and Lucy stared at her with matching expressions of understanding. Hunt just stared at the floor, a small smile on his lips.

When the silence stretched on, Felicia held out her hands. “What?”

Lucy shrugged. “Nothing.”

O’Flare laughed and threw a companionable arm around Lucy’s shoulder. “Come on, Lucy, let’s get ready before Knox decides to throw you in another fighting ring.”

Lucy elbowed him as he led her away. “I beg your pardon, but . . .” Lucy’s voice faded as the pair walked down the hallway.

“Don’t worry,” Hunt said as he walked past Felicia to follow the others out of the room. “I didn’t have a great view, but I’d be willing to bet the vamp was sporting an even bigger boner for you than the one O’Flare had for the wraith. Maybe he’ll show it to you later.”

Shooting daggers at his back, Felicia actually struggled not to stick her tongue out at him. “I thought werebeasts were loners. You sure talk a lot for one.”

Over his shoulder, Hunt said, “The whole ‘I am an island’ thing? It’s still kind of new to me. Up until a month ago, I rode with a pack.”

“Rat pack, you mean, don’t you?”

Hunt froze, but Felicia stepped closer until she was practically speaking into his ear. “And I mean that literally. The Ferals are one of the Southwest’s most troublesome gangs, with its members involved in everything from grand theft auto to drug sales to murder. Why’d they kick you out?”

When he turned to face her, all evidence of his infuriating disdain and smart-ass humor had disappeared. His face, weathered prematurely by the elements but in no way unattractive, was set in grim lines. His hazel eyes had darkened to a deep, dark chocolate.

“You really want to know?” he asked.

Felicia swallowed so she wouldn’t say no like she suddenly wanted to. “I asked, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. You asked.” Hunt raised one hand, grinning when Felicia flinched. All he did was push a stray hair behind her ear.

“I got booted from the Ferals because a senior member let it slip he had a thing for werebeasts. Male ones, the younger the better. His favorite hangout was an old schoolhouse slash orphanage that catered exclusively to the troubled half-Otherborn whelps of werewolves. He raved about what a classy place it was. Described the public rooms in detail, from the color of the curtains and carpet, to the design carved into the banister.”

“I take it this was a place you were familiar with?”

“Only in passing,” Hunt said. “I knew someone who’d been placed there.”

“Is this Feral still alive?”

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t believe me?”

Felicia licked her lips at the threat edging the were’s voice. Just seconds ago, his eyes had gone distant, as if he’d been transported back in time and was no longer aware of where he was.

“What happened to this friend of yours?” she prodded.

“The same thing that happened to everyone who went there. Unless you were a teacher or an invited guest, that is.”

“ And this Feral who’d been there? You knew him?”

“I more than knew him. He was my best friend. We were as thick as thieves from the moment I first joined the gang, approximately fifteen years ago.”

“So what happened?”

“What do you think happened?”

“I think you didn’t like the fact that he’d been at the school, any more than you liked his attraction to kids. So you what? Fought with him and the gang kicked you out?”

Hunt smirked. “You’re smarter than that, Felicia.”

“You didn’t fight?” she asked, although she already knew the answer. It wasn’t in the files that the other team members had been given, but it was in Mahone’s classified files. And she’d read those in detail.

“I killed him, but I tortured him first. Do you know a werewolf can only be killed in human form?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Hunt nodded, his eyes getting all hazy again. “One way to keep a were in human form is to keep him in water. So that’s what I did. I hosed him down and kept him wet. I took out my buck knife and I killed him. Slowly. After that, I didn’t actually wait around for the gang to ask me to leave.”

Blinking rapidly to hide the sheen of tears in her eyes, Felicia nodded. “Of course. That would have been rude. It’s never polite to overstay one’s welcome.”

Her calm words seemed to shock Hunt out of his memories. He blinked once. Twice. Then, amazingly, he chucked her chin. “The dharmire needs to watch his back. Fighting for fun is one thing. If I ever had a reason to fight him for something I wanted, I’d make sure things ended differently.”

Felicia shook her head, her gaze steady. “You won’t have a reason to fight him.”

Hunt nodded good-naturedly. “Then enjoy the ride. And remember what I said. Anything and everything. Doggie style would be the least of your worries, believe me.”

 

 

Everyone but Wraith was assembled in the conference room when Knox walked in. Thankfully, all of them, including Felicia, were dressed in street clothes. When he’d stopped by the kitchen and seen her in her thin tank top and pajama pants, her breasts loose and nipples straining against the white cotton, he’d felt a killing rage sweep over him. It had had nothing to do with her state of dress, but everything to do with the fact that Dex Hunt was standing beside her, seeing her state of
un
dress and watching her with his dark eyes.

Knox had barely restrained himself from ripping those eyes out of their sockets and mincing them to bits with one of the chef’s knives. Fortunately, he’d kept a grip on his sanity and reminded himself his foul mood probably had more to do with his frustration than any real threat he felt coming from Hunt.