Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2) (67 page)

He
lowered
his
lids
for
a
breath.
When
he
opened
them,
his
eyes
glowed
with
passion.
He
kicked
off
the
sheet
that
covered
them
both
and
shifted
her
so
she
lay
on
her
back
beneath
him.
One
hand
slid
down
between
their
bodies,
stroking
the
skin
of
her
belly,
then
ruffling
through
curls
at
the
base.
Alex
held
her
breath
as
he
pushed
one
finger
between
the
folds
of
her
sex.
She
was
already
drenched
with
desire,
and
he
rubbed
the
moisture
over
the
sensitive
flesh
until
he
found
the
engorged
little
bud
between
her
thighs,
then
slipped
lower
to
push
inside
her.

He
flexed
the
finger,
and
her
whole
body
jolted
with
the
shock
of
pleasure.
He
shifted
her
again,
widening
her
thighs,
positioning
himself
between
them.
“You’re
small,”
he
murmured.

“And
you’re
not.
I
know,
but
I
want
this,
Jon.
I’ve
wanted
it
from
the
first
moment
I
saw
you.
Please,
don’t
go
noble
on
me
now.”

He
lowered
his
mouth
and
kissed
her.
She
parted
her
lips
for
the
thrust
of
his
tongue
as
his
shaft
nudged
at
the
entrance
to
her
body.
Then
he
was
filling
her
slowly,
stretching
the
tender
flesh
until
he
was
lodged
deep
inside.

For
this
first
time,
she
was
content
to
follow
his
lead,
let
him
show
her
the
way.
There
would
be
time
to
show
him
other
ways
later—she
hoped.
Pushing
the
thought
aside,
she
concentrated
on
the
new
sensations
coursing
through
her
body.

He
withdrew,
and
she
shivered
at
the
exquisite
drag
of
his
sex
against
hers.

“More?”
he
whispered.

She
nodded,
unable
to
speak,
her
throat
closed
up
with
emotions
building
inside
her.
Jon
flexed
his
hips,
filling
her
again.
He
leaned
in
close
and
kissed
her
mouth,
parting
her
lips
so
the
languid
thrust
of
his
tongue
kept
time
with
the
glide
of
his
shaft.
The
world
shrank
until
it
was
nothing
more
than
the
feel
of
his
hard
body,
the
velvet
caress
of
his
tongue.
The
taste
of
him.

Heat
washed
through
her.
She
was
out
of
control.
Gripping
his
shoulders,
she
pulled
him
harder
against
her,
widening
her
thighs,
needing
him
closer.
He
pressed
in
to
her,
all
the
way,
then
rotated
his
hips
in
tantalizing
circles
against
her
core,
grinding
into
her,
then
backing
off
so
she
wrapped
her
legs
around
him
and
held
him
to
her.
The
world
shrank
further,
distilled
to
that
one
place
between
her
thighs.
The
pleasure
built
to
an
unbearable
crescendo,
and
she
whimpered
into
his
kiss.

He
raised
his
head,
held
her
gaze
as
he
pushed
one
hand
between
their
bodies,
between
her
legs,
gently
massaging
that
mass
of
swollen
nerves,
and
Alex
shattered
into
a
thousand
pieces.

Chapter
Eighteen

He’d
been
an
idealist
once,
long
ago,
before
a
half-crazed
werewolf
had
decided
he
would
be
a
useful
addition
to
the
pack.

Even
after
the
change,
he’d
known
what
was
right
and
wrong
and
had
a
code
of
ethics
that
he’d
stuck
to
in
his
own
way.
When
he’d
killed
the
old
alpha,
it
was
partly
because
he’d
hated
him,
but
also
because
he
was
a
bad
leader,
and
Jon
had
thought
he
could
do
better.

When
he’d
gotten
back
from
that
trip,
found
his
people
slaughtered,
their
bodies
burned
on
a
huge
pyre,
he’d
abandoned
those
ethics.

He’d
reckoned
that
killing
was
the
one
thing
he
was
good
for.
So
he’d
devoted
himself
to
it,
first
for
revenge
and
then
for
money.

Now
he
lay
beside
Alex
and
knew
it
was
time
to
make
some
changes.

The
comm
unit
by
the
side
of
the
bed
blinked.
He
tightened
his
arm
around
her,
leaned
across
with
his
free
hand,
and
pressed
the
unit.
“What
is
it?”
he
asked.

Tannis
answered.
“I’m
alerting
everyone.
Janey
has
picked
up
the
Collective
on
our
tail.
They’re
still
a
good
way
off,
but
closing
fast.”

“How
many?”

“Janey
says
it
looks
like
all
of
them.
Enough
anyway.”

“How
long?”

“Three
hours
at
the
most.”
Tannis
paused.
“Is
Alex
there?”

“She’s
asleep.”

“Let
her
know.
We’ll
have
a
meeting
in
an
hour’s
time.
I
want
us
all
present.”

He
rested
back
against
the
pillows.
While
he’d
known
they
were
coming,
he’d
hoped
for
more
time.
Alex
was
still
deep
asleep,
but
as
his
arm
tightened
around
her,
she
blinked
and
opened
her
eyes.

“What’s
happening?”

He
opened
his
mouth
to
tell
her
and
shut
it
again.
He
needed
to
think
this
through.
He’d
thought
he
had
no
options,
but
maybe
he
did.
Maybe
he
could
do
something
right
for
once.
“Nothing,”
he
murmured.
“Go
back
to
sleep.”

She
laid
her
head
back
on
his
chest,
and
her
breathing
slowed.
He
held
her
small
body
so
tightly
he
could
feel
the
blood
pulsing
through
her
veins.

There
was
no
way
they
could
beat
the
Collective.
Rico
might
get
lucky
and
evade
them
again,
but
eventually
they
would
catch
up,
and
they
stood
no
chance
in
combat.
They
would
all
die.
His
grip
tightened.

If
it
came
to
a
fight,
they
were
done
for—Alex
included.
There
had
to
be
some
way
to
convince
them
to
back
off.
That
the
others
were
no
threat
and
didn’t
know
anything
that
could
harm
the
Collective.

Gently,
he
picked
her
up,
laid
her
down
on
the
sheets,
and
slid
out
of
the
bed.
He
pulled
on
his
pants,
picked
up
his
shirt,
and
headed
out.

“Where
are
you
going?”

Alex’s
sleepy
question
halted
him
at
the
door.
Wiping
all
expression
from
his
face,
he
turned
to
face
her.
“That
stuff
of
Rico’s
is
lethal.
My
head’s
killing
me.
I’m
going
down
to
the
sick
bay
to
see
if
I
can’t
rummage
up
some
medicine.”

“You’re
coming
back?”

He
nodded
and
forced
a
grin.
“Get
some
sleep.
You’ll
need
it.”

“Okay,
but
don’t
be
long.”

“I
won’t.”

Once
outside,
he
pressed
his
fingers
to
his
forehead.
He
hadn’t
been
totally
lying
to
Alex—his
head
throbbed
and
the
occasional
sharp
pain
spiked
the
base
of
his
skull.

There
was
no
answer
at
Skylar’s
cabin.
Jon
swore
softly—he’d
been
hoping
to
speak
to
her
alone.
Chances
were,
she
was
already
up
with
the
captain.
Or
she
might
be
one
other
place.
He’d
try
that
first.

He
came
to
a
halt
outside
a
door
and
placed
his
palm
to
the
panel.

“Who
the
hell
is
it?”
Rico
sounded
annoyed.
“I’m
busy!”

Like
Jon
gave
a
shit.
He
pressed
the
panel
again.
“It’s
Jon.”

There
was
a
moment
of
silence,
then
the
door
opened.
Jon
peered
inside.
Rico’s
cabin
was
large
compared
to
Alex’s,
and
decorated
in
the
expected
black
and
silver.
Across
the
room,
Rico
sat
in
the
huge
bed,
leaning
against
the
wall,
chest
bare,
black
sheets
pooled
around
his
hips.
A
scowl
on
his
face.

Skylar
stood
beside
the
bed.
She
was
dressed
and
strapping
on
the
weapons
belt
at
her
waist.
Her
face
was
expressionless,
but
tension
filled
the
air
between
them.

“We’re
in
the
middle
of
an
important
argument,”
Rico
said.
“So
tell
me
what
the
fuck
you
want
and
get
the
hell
out
of
here.”

“Actually,
I
want
Skylar.”

Rico’s
eyes
narrowed.
“Well,
you
can’t
have
her—she’s
mine.”
He
ran
a
hand
through
his
hair,
muttering
under
his
breath.

Jon
shoved
his
hands
into
his
pockets.
Despite
the
headache
still
pounding
in
his
temples,
he
had
to
stifle
the
urge
to
smile.
It
was
good
to
know
the
vampire’s
love
life
wasn’t
perfect
after
all.
“So
what
are
you
two
arguing
about?”

“Mind
your
own
business,”
Skylar
snapped.

“It’s
as
much
his
business
as
anybody’s,”
Rico
said.
“Stubborn
bitch
won’t
get
the
hell
off
my
ship.
She
could
go
now—they’d
take
her
back.”

That
was
interesting.
If
Rico
was
trying
to
get
Skylar
to
leave
the
ship,
he
must
believe
the
situation
was
grim.
But
that
was
only
confirming
what
Jon
already
knew.

“Never
going
to
happen,”
Skylar
growled,
moving
to
stand
beside
Jon.
“What
is
it?
You
know
Janey
has
picked
up
a
Collective
ship
following
us?”

Jon
nodded.
“That’s
what
I
want
to
talk
to
you
about.”

“Can’t
it
wait?
Tannis
has
called
a
meeting.”

“No.”

Rico
frowned
and
studied
him.
“You
feeling
all
right?
You
know,
that
whiskey
can
pack
a
wallop—you’re
probably
still
pissed.
Lie
down,
give
it
a
few
hours,
and
you’ll
feel
much
better.”

“I
already
feel
fine,
and
I
don’t
have
a
few
hours.
I
want
to
hand
myself
over
to
the
Collective.”

“Why
would
you
want
to
do
that?”
Rico
asked.
“They’ll
kill
you.”

“They’re
going
to
kill
me
anyway.”

“Ever
the
optimist.”
Rico
pushed
off
the
sheet
and
got
out
of
bed.
He
searched
for
his
clothes,
found
them
on
a
chair,
and
got
dressed.

“They’re
also
going
to
kill
the
rest
of
you.
Maybe
I
can
prevent
that.”

“
Dios,
you
trying
to
protect
us
all
now?”

Jon
considered
denying
it.
Claiming
that
he
was
doing
this
solely
for
Alex.
But
the
truth
was
they’d
all
come
back
for
him
earlier.
They’d
risked
their
lives
to
save
him.
However
much
he
disliked
the
idea,
he
owed
them.

But
this
wasn’t
really
payment
of
a
debt.
Rather,
it
was
payment
of
many
debts.
All
those
people
he
should
have
protected
and
had
failed.

“Yes,”
he
said.

“In
which
case,
you
can
persuade
Skylar
to
get
the
hell
off
my
ship
and
go
back
to
her
own
people.”

“Actually,
that’s
what
I
wanted
to
talk
to
her
about.”

“You
did?
Good—I
think.”
He
nodded
toward
where
Skylar
stood
with
her
legs
braced,
arms
crossed
against
her
chest.
“Go
ahead,
then—be
my
guest.”

“I
want
you
to
contact
the
Collective.”

Skylar
frowned.
“And
say
what?”

“Tell
them
I’ll
give
myself
up,
if
they
back
off.”

“They’ve
already
said
they
won’t
back
off.
You
have
information
they
don’t
want
out
in
the
open,
something
about
Aiden’s
suicide,
I
just
can’t
figure
out
what
yet.
But
whatever
it
is,
it’s
bad
enough
that
they
want
you—and
anyone
you
might
have
told—dead.”

This
was
the
problem
part
of
his
plan,
but
he
was
hoping
Skylar
would
have
some
suggestions.
She
was
Collective,
so
she
would
know
how
they
worked.
“There
must
be
a
way
to
convince
them
that
you
know
nothing.”
His
hands
fisted
at
his
side.
“I
mean
to
do
this.
I’ll
contact
them
myself
if
you
won’t
help,
but
I
thought
they
might
listen
to
you.”