Feral Passion (11 page)

He shook his head, shrugged. “Not yet, even
if I did I doubt the man would pay attention to it. I’m just a
lackey,” he said bitterly, taking another shot.

“That’s what
he
thinks, and don’t mind Romero. The jerk has
his head up his ass,” she laughed, earning a smile in
reply.

“Thanks, Mary. So what have you been up to?”
he asked cautiously, giving Raff a nervous glare that he greatly
returned with ten times as much coldness.

“Trying to stay alive.” The mutter went
unnoticed by the younger man, but Raffaele heard it plain as day
and could have growled.

Small, stumpy, and hair sprouting in places
that it obviously shouldn’t be, he had a greasy look about him that
set Raffaele off, and not just because it was apparent that he had
an interest in Mary—okay, only a small part of it was because of
that.

Imming, as she had called him, smelled. .
.normal, human, so the threat of him encroaching on what Raff
considered to be his was non-existent. He might have only known her
for a day, and he was only going to be seeing her till this was
over, he planned to stake his claim for the time being and let them
both get the sexual tension out.

The smell of her was strong as he stood
behind her, the wind blowing her earthy raspberry scent full force
into him. Raff wished it didn’t have to be so easy to enjoy her,
the way her hair danced with the wind, the way she stayed in his
mind.

He would forget her, later. But for now, he
planned to chase tail.

Mary’s head bent, and he stepped closer when
he saw Imming move in. The man backed up slightly, giving the man a
superior look. Raff was dressed in black slacks and with a dark
blue Armani button up and a tie, so he had no clue what he thought
was so great about the small guy.

“I think I need to go,” she said, looking
back up. The hand that held her phone dropped to her side.

“I’ll take you,” Raff said automatically,
thinking of how she had walked.

“It’s fine,” she said, irritated.

“Go tell your brother and Romero that we’re
leaving,” he ordered, putting his hands in his pocket for his
keys.

She glared at him. “I think that I can take
care of myself well enough to walk home without a stalker.”

“I’ll be any kind of stalker you want me to
be—hell, I’ll even sniff your panties if you want me too—but you
aren’t walking home and that’s that,” he said, voice ringing with
finality.

Mary growled, but walked through the people
to her brother, who was bending over the gas circle. He looked up
and his eyes immediately latched onto Raffale, who knew he was
standing way to close for Mary’s or Ulrich’s comfort. Mentally, he
laughed.

“What’s up.” He was talking to his sister,
but his eyes never left Raff.

“I’m going home,” she started, “and he
offered to take me.” It was wise of her to leave out that he hadn’t
really “offered”, so much as forced her.

“I can take you,” he said, curling his lip at
the taller, darker man as he stood to his full height with the
grace of a predator.

Romero broke in by saying, “I need you here
for the examiner, chief. You know you can’t leave when we have
cases like this.”

Ulrich paused, then growled low in his throat
at Raff. “He drops you off and then comes back here. Call me when
you’re done with the security guys.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Knock it off, brother.
I haven’t seen you act like this since high school.”

He ignored her by saying to Raff, “Five
minutes.”

Raffaele gave no outward emotion at the
implied command, but nodded at Romero who chuckled in reply and
started to walk away, Mary following after him.

Quiet and awkward, the car ride was short and
worse than he had predicted to be. Raff hoped that Ulrich realized
that he wasn’t going to follow his orders, but intended to stay for
as long as he could.

He tried telling himself that it was because
she could be in danger, but knew he was only lying to himself. The
beauty of her forest eyes entranced him, the fire in her made him
burn, and the heat of her made him. . .hot.

He parked the car where she told him to,
breathing in her sweet scent, and then got out to open her door
before she could say anything else. Men were walking around the
brown themed house, papers and wires almost falling from several of
their hands.

She stepped out slowly, close enough that she
was almost sliding against him. He took in a breath, adjusting
himself when she wasn’t looking. Her neck looked...delicious, he
thought absently, wanting to bite and suck the soft looking
flesh.

He let her walk ahead of him, trying to
ignore how much the sashay of her walk made it hard for him to walk
right.

Chapter 18

“Please sign here,” one of the construction
workers said, holding out a clipboard.

She frowned, taking it into her hands.
“What’s this?”

Jacques came up behind her, probably scanning
the papers.

“Just papers that will verify your identity,
that we are within our rights for installing the system on your
house, and that you or whoever is paying the bill will pay in full
when it comes,” he said, nervously looking behind her.

She rolled her eyes mentally. So far, every
man that she has seen around Jacques has either been nervous, or
disgusted. What was it about him that she was missing, that others
weren’t?

Jaques watched her sign her name and place
her initials on the lines where they were asked for. Was it just
her, or was he really close to her? Mary didn’t know, but had the
urge to step back into his arms.

She handed the clipboard back, watching in
faint panic as people ran around her house, hooking cables, setting
up posts, and just messing her whole yard up. She was okay with
scuffed grass, it could easily grow back and it was almost winter
so it would die out soon anyways.

But when one of the men had the gall to
get close to her last rose, she let out a screech and could have
killed him. “You stay
away
from that rose, you got me? If one
petal
is taken off, I will
kill
you with my bare hands,” she barked,
stomping up to him angrily, eyes flashing.

The Acutos raised a lip, revealing a sharp
canine, but backed down when his advisor came over, followed by
Jacques.

“Something wrong here?” the human man in the
suit asked, looking between them.

She took a calming breath. “My plants. My
last rose. Don’t touch it, and I won’t commit mass murder.”

“I don’t appreciate you threatening my
workers,” the man started, frowning.

“Listen to her,” Jacques growled from behind,
earning a dumbfounded re-take.

“Ex
cuse
me?” he asked, surprised and offended. “This treatment does
not earn for the greatest of quality. . .”

She gasped, outraged. Mary was about to say
something when Jaques once again spoke.

“If you place your own ‘head-up-your-ass”
attitude before a woman’s safety, I think you need to. . .”

“Mr. Jaques, calm down, it’s fine!” she
assured him, breaking him mid-speech. “I was just saying that that
rose is very precious to me and he took in the wrong way,” she
explained to the human.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Waters,”
he said with forced politeness. “He is new to our team, in from
Louisiana.”

The Acutos male was staring at her hard, then
slowly his expressions evened out. “Waters? Mary Waters?”

She nodded, sighing.

Jaques had stayed quiet before then, his
coldness palpable. Except. . .she couldn’t feel it. All she felt
was the heat coming off of him and the aura of protectiveness that
had her confused.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, breaking into
her thoughts. She waved a hand, looking back at Jacques, who was
staring giving looks to the two men.

The two of them were used to order, to
people listening to them. It was the only way they could get things
done, could get things carried through. She suspected that Jacques
wasn’t used to people
not
listening. He looked like someone who was used to the world
revolving around him, used to people being compliant.

Mary could only imagine how much it must
grate on him to not do anything, to have no say or power. She
smiled inwardly.

After a few tense moments, the two men got
back to work, along with everyone else who had stopped for the
episode. With keen eyes, she could see claws retracting, breaths
being taken, small things that you wouldn’t have seen had you not
been looking for it.

Her smile widened, pleased that there had
been those ready to protect her. “You can come inside for a drink
if you want,” she offered the dark man behind her, who in turn
just. . .stared down at her.

For a second, her smile faltered till
she received the first
actual
smile from him that she had ever gotten. Her heart lighted,
despite the day. The almost overwhelming urge to grab his hand and
drag him inside arose, and she walked inside quickly, suppressing
it.

Except, when she walked in side, she stopped
dead.

The mess had been cleaned up, but her table
and floor were tracked with dirt, leaves, and wires that she
wouldn’t even attempt to place.

Jaques followed in behind her, silent, no
opinion or questions coming from him.

“I’m. . .sorry about the mess,” she started
unevenly, staring around the kitchen with upset and disturbed
eyes.

“Don’t worry, I know it’s not your fault,” he
murmured, walking to the table. She moved to the counter and opened
one of the cupboards, grabbing a cup.

“Water, milk, juice, pop?” she asked, looking
over her shoulder at him.

“I’ll just have some water,” he replied with
a small smile.

Mary handed him the cup of water, sitting
across from him at the table.

Even though she didn’t want to talk
about it, it had to be done. It
was
the reason he was even there, after all.

“After you talked to me yesterday, did you go
to Michael?” she asked, finally drawing a non-stoic expression.

“The hell. . . Yeah, I did,” he said,
crossing his arms over his chest, disgruntled.

“Okay, and what did you learn from him?” she
asked, almost proudly. It always pleased her when she hit the
target the first time.

“If you want to know, why can’t you go and
ask him yourself?” He raised a brow.

“Because he would run the other
direction at the site of me,” she said, the roundness deflating out
of her as she remembered the last time she had tried to approach
him. The man had crossed himself, as if ridding himself of any evil
that may taint her, and then had run away and into the bar—which he
had
known
she wouldn’t walk in
to.

This time, both his brows popped. “What did
you do? Threaten him with your godly powers?” He laughed.

The sound made her smile, only briefly.
He had a deep, rich laugh that when let loose, could be infectious.
Mary wondered absently what it would be like to hear him moan, to
even
make
him moan. .
.

Her face flamed.
Stop it
, she snapped at herself,
embarrassed.

“No,” she said in a tone that spoke
otherwise. Her brows lowered into a glare. “Just tell me what you
found out.”

“So demanding,” he murmured, eying her with a
hooded gaze.

Her eyes rolled. “I don’t have all day.”

“And I don’t have a very willing mouth,” he
retorted, quirky.

Mary resorted to full out glaring, not
appreciating the innuendo in the slightest. “I’m the leader here
right now, Mr. Jacques. Please do as I say so we can get on with
our days.”

Frosty eyes flashed, the brief moment of
anger making them arctic.

“I have a friend of mine looking into what
some symbols mean, obviously something to do with dark magic or
ancient powers. I didn’t know what they were when I saw them, but
Chase has some expertise in researching ancient things.”

“Will you let me know if anything comes up?”
she asked, getting up to put the cups in the sink.

“If you give me your number, we can set a
date up for when he finds something,” he said, the smirk going
unnoticed.

Mary turned around, smiling with the wash
cloth in her hands. “Sure thing, my phone is in my purse. Just add
it to my contacts.” She didn’t bother to correct the misuse of the
word “date”. Mary didn’t do dates. Never had, never will.

She turned around as he got her phone out,
trusting that he wouldn’t snoop through her belongings. The water
was hot in her hands as she cleaned the cups and put them in the
dish washer, morning sunlight pouring in from the window.

“All set and done,” he said, standing up with
a sigh. “Romero wants me back at the site, no doubt your brother
demanding my return.” His eyes flashed.

Mary laughed. “How lovely. . . Well, I’ll see
you later.” She walked him to the door, twisting her hands
together. Somehow, over the course of the day, their relationship
had gone from business to personal, closer.

Not that she was complaining, she thought as
she watched his hips as he walked—more like his ass.

Her cheeks flushed.

“Make sure to give me a call if you remember
something that I haven’t heard of from the files. I want to get out
of here as fast as I can with my uncle coming with me. The sooner
this is solved, the sooner I can. . .keep him safe,” he said, voice
dropping an octave with his obvious lie.

The thought of him leaving unsettled her. Her
eyes trailed over his regal features, his dark skin emphasizing his
frosty blue eyes that set well against his sharp bone structure.
His cheeks were proud, strong.