Hunting Human (7 page)

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Authors: Amanda E. Alvarez

BOOK: Hunting Human
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Instead, he’d retreated to her car, found a sheltered vantage point and waited. For hours. At this point, he didn’t care if this
was
the woman he was looking for. He was considering killing her for the inconvenience. And if it actually started to rain before she got here? Well then he’d just have to kill her slowly.

A few minutes later, a man and a woman rounded the corner and started up the long street toward the parking lot. Wind heralding the incoming storm rushed past them, catching the woman’s skirt and making her shiver. Markko pressed closer to the alley’s opening. They were still too far away to be sure, but the woman was the right build, tall and slender, with the same brown hair he remembered from years ago. But she had her head tilted toward the man she was with, her face hidden from view.

Cursing, Markko shifted farther forward, careful to remain out of the glow of the streetlamp. The pair walked into the deserted parking lot, backs to him, completely unaware of their audience. He continued to observe them while they stood outside of the Jeep, going through the motions of an awkward good-night.

“Come on, come on. Fucking kiss her and get the hell out of my way.” The parking lot’s lights spilled across the pavement where the Jeep was parked, but the guy stood directly in Markko’s line of sight. If he’d step to the side Markko could get a look at the woman’s face.

Finally, the prick found his balls and pushed the woman up against the car. Just as he thought the guy was going to grab her under her armpits and fuck her against the Jeep, he pulled back. Markko couldn’t hear what they were saying from across the street but the body language rang loud and clear. The fucking tease was saying no, and damned if that pussy didn’t pull back. Markko snorted to himself. If the prick didn’t have the balls to take what he wanted, especially when the woman was so clearly toying with him, then he deserved to spend the night with his fist.

Finally, the woman got in her car and pulled out of the parking lot, giving Markko an unobstructed view of her face as she pulled out onto the street.

Old anger ignited within him, pumping adrenaline through his veins and raising the hair on his arms.

Hello, Lizzy.

Finally, he could move forward. He’d come back tomorrow, follow her home and figure out how he wanted to play this out
.
It would take a few days to make arrangements to get her out of the country or find a suitable location nearby. But one thing was certain, given a week, two at the most, and he’d snare his prey. She’d squeal like a pinned rabbit as he tore apart her existence, piece by piece.

Markko turned down the alley, thoughts consumed with plans and anticipation. The moment his back was to the parking lot, awareness shot up his spine, resting heavily against the back of his skull, raising the hair along his neck. Slowly, he turned back toward the parking lot, instinct driving him to caution. His eyes locked on the man walking out of the parking lot.

The guy came to an abrupt halt, head snapping toward Markko’s position, eyes peering into the darkness. Though his expression remained calm and curious, his stance went wide and his shoulders squared, warrior-ready.

“Fuck,” Markko snarled, pulling himself as far as he could into the shadow of the building behind him, carefully retreating to the next street over.

Edwards.
That bitch was spreading her legs for Edwards, probably in exchange for protection.

Rage coiled down his spine, seizing his muscles. The stench of the alley filled his nostrils and coated his tongue. His fingers curled reflexively, tendons pulling taut to prepare for paws instead of hands. His teeth elongated in his still human mouth, slicing into his tongue. The metallic tang of his own blood narrowly kept him from shifting on the spot.

He slammed his fists into the brick wall to his right, the pain radiating from his knuckles up through his arms fighting back the rage and adrenaline. Keeping the change in check.

Son of a bitch.

He spat the blood pooling in his mouth.

Abducting and killing the woman was supposed to be simple. Easy.
Fun.

Taking her from Edwards would be an open challenge. A declaration of war.

His wolf snarled and paced at the front of his mind. Primed for the hunt, lusting for the kill. Edwards’ bitch or not, he wouldn’t forsake his vengeance.

She had to pay. He hadn’t left his pack and defied his father to walk away now. Edwards was little more than a complication. An irritant to be dealt with.

Or used.

His anger settled, low and tight in his gut. Present but contained. The haze of red clouding his mind and exciting his wolf cleared enough for the first vague notions of a plan to take hold.

The Edwardses are nothing if not predictable.

He’d have to move cautiously. Determine the exact relationship between Edwards and the woman. Their involvement complicated but ultimately didn’t change things. If anything, it sweetened the pay off.

The bitch would die. Perhaps not as slowly as he’d planned; timing would be crucial. But pain—applied correctly—could stretch minutes to hours. Hours to lifetimes. She’d beg for death before he was through. And after he finished? Well, Edwards could have her back.

Piece by piece
.

And if her death brings war to my father’s doorstep? All the better. He’ll face the Edwards clan head-on—and expose his vulnerable back.

Chapter Eight

Braden pulled a beer out of the fridge, popped the top off on the counter and closed the door on a long and unproductive day. Hell, if he were honest with himself, he hadn’t been productive in more than a week. Every time he found a good working flow, something would remind him of Beth. The way she smelled, the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips, the way her breath caressed his face after they kissed. She was driving him crazy. Worse, he knew it showed. Even his secretary had noticed something was off.

I need to get my head on straight.

“You gonna drink that or just keep rolling it between your palms?”

“When did you get here?” Braden glanced around Caleb. “And where’s Chase?”

“On the phone. You were sound asleep on the couch when Chase and I came in last night. Still haven’t gotten lucky, huh? How long’s it been? A week, two?” Caleb smiled maliciously. “Losing your touch?”

“Shut up.” Braden pushed Caleb away as his brother made a grab for the beer. “Get your own.”

“Ah, don’t worry, everyone strikes out every now and then.” Caleb’s expression turned wicked. “Besides, the way I hear it you get the occasional, shall we say, exotic offer.”

Braden choked on his beer. “Chase! You little shit!”

“No need to be embarrassed.” Caleb moved around him to retrieve another beer from the fridge. “The way Chase tells it, he—I mean she—was quite the looker. Long, powerful legs, short skirt, killer heels…”

“Caleb.” Braden set his beer down on the counter.

“Shut up?” Caleb asked with a smile.

“Yeah.” Braden cracked his knuckles.

“Alright, alright. Out of brotherly respect I’ll drop it.”

Chase came in and dropped into the black leather club chair across from Braden. “We need to talk.”

“Fuck, what now?” Braden asked.

“Jason just reported in.”

“And?” Braden leaned forward, lines creasing his forehead.

“He’s been tailing Markko off and on for over a week now. He’s a slippery bastard.” Chase frowned and glanced out the window; Braden knew he was itching to get out and start looking for Markko.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“You can’t keep me here forever.” Chase snapped his head up, fury tightening his expression.

“A week or two isn’t going to kill you.”

Caleb made a frustrated noise. “Enough. Chase, stop acting like a child. Braden, stop acting like his mother. What’s the bad news?”

Chase ran his hands through his hair. “He’s been following you some, Braden. He’s also been to Angie’s.”

“Fuck.”

“It gets better.” Chase stared steadily at Braden. “We think he may be following that girl.”

“What girl?” A tendril of unease unfurled in Braden’s mind, sliding down his spine like water down an icicle.

“The one you’ve been seeing.” Chase released a strangled breath, as if he anticipated an explosion any second.

“Just what the hell are you saying?”

“Just that he seems very interested in her.”

“And what?” Braden forcibly uncurled his fists and stretched his fingers. “And
what else
, Chase?”

“Look, we know he’s been following you, usually when you’re with her,” Chase said, his voice flat.

“Since when?” Anger exploded through Braden. How long had Markko been following them, following Beth?

“Since the first night you went out.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you say something sooner?” Braden hissed.

“Because we don’t know what he wants. Or why he’s here. He keeps switching motels, slipping the people assigned to him. But we know he’s been watching the two of you when you’re together. I felt it was worth waiting to see if he tipped his hand,” Chase said, the words carefully measured.

“Jesus, Chase. Bad enough he’s been following me. I can take care of myself. But how many times has he been to Angie’s? Or followed Beth when I wasn’t around? He’s dangerous.” Braden growled, shoving his fingers through his hair in an effort not to throttle his brother.

“Look, he hasn’t been back to Angie’s since the first night you went out with the woman. From what Jason said he didn’t stay long and he didn’t go in. After that he walked a couple blocks, waited around in an alley for a couple hours.”

“Waited for what, exactly?” Braden asked, fury burning away the rest of his unease.

“Mostly he just stood there smoking. Left a pile of cigarette butts in the alley. After you said good-night to your date in the parking lot, he left.”

“But what the fuck was Markko doing there in the first place?” A slick wave of dread consumed him—Markko had obviously witnessed the kiss he’d shared with Beth. Would he consider her leverage in whatever game he was playing?

“We don’t know yet.” Chase exploded out of his chair and strode to the window. “His behavior is completely atypical for what we know about him. He’s alone. He’s exercising patience. This guy is dangerous, but if we take him out now, we’ll never know what his endgame is. Or what relationship he has with a woman that’s suddenly become a fixture in your life,” Chase added.

“Just what are you implying?”

“Just that he wasn’t standing outside your loft or your parking garage.” Chase leaned against the wall, his expression guarded.

“So? Maybe he didn’t know where to look,” Caleb interjected.

“Could be.” Chase shrugged, “Or he might not have been waiting for Braden, at all.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Braden took his empty beer bottle to the kitchen. “That lot is the closest public parking to Angie’s. He could have guessed that I’d parked there, especially if he knew I’d been to Angie’s earlier that day.”

“Maybe.” Chase’s surly silence filled the room.

“But what?” Braden snapped.

“It’s a little convenient.” Chase pushed away from the wall and settled into a jerky pace. “Markko shows up and suddenly, out of nowhere, a woman he’s clearly interested in seduces you?”

Braden slammed the lid of the trashcan. “For the love of… Beth is hardly in league with Markko!”

“You can’t know that!” Chase vibrated with anger. “You’ve only just met her!”

“Enough,” Caleb interceded.

Braden forced his jaw shut.

Of all the ridiculous ideas.

“Look, as usual, Chase is being cautious.”

“Paranoid is more like it.”

“Shut up,” Caleb snapped. “Look, Chase, you’re probably overreacting. It’s a stretch to think this woman is involved. I’m sure there’s another explanation.” Braden opened his mouth, but Caleb cut him off. “Don’t. He has a point. How much do you know about her?”

“Enough.” His voice came out rough and far more possessive than he intended, and neither of his brothers failed to notice.

“Alright, alright. We get it. You Tarzan, she Jane. But while you’re busy dragging her back to your place, could you exercise a little caution? It’ll hardly kill you.”

“In the meantime, Chase is right. It’s dangerous to take out Markko when we don’t know what, if any, connection he has with this girl. If there’s even the slightest chance that she’s a threat to the family, we need to know.”

Not sure what irritated him more, his brothers or the fact that he felt so protective of a woman he barely knew, Braden sighed and conceded. “Fine, whatever.” He strode out of the kitchen, “I’m grabbing a shower and going out.”

If he hurried, he could probably catch Beth at the end of her shift. Whether to spite his brothers or ease his own mind he wasn’t sure, but he needed to see her.

***

Beth jumped then smiled when arms slid around her waist and lips brushed a kiss against her neck. She finished ladling the soup into a large mug for herself, then turned in Braden’s arms.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Braden plucked the mug from her fingers, set it on the counter and swept her into a possessive kiss. When he finally released her, Beth was flushed and breathless.

“Wow. That was hot!”

Beth groaned when she saw Marianne standing in the doorway.

“Don’t mind me, don’t mind me.” Marianne grabbed the bus bin by the sink. “Pretend I’m not even here.” She winked and backed out into the main part of the café.

Ten seconds of complete silence passed between them before they both broke out in laughter. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m sixteen again?” Braden asked.

“Get caught making out in Angie’s kitchen a lot as a teenager?” Beth tried to glare, but felt the corners of her lips pulling up against her will.

“Nah. Just once.” Braden grimaced. “Angie caught me. I found better places after that.”

“I’ve no doubt. What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until tomorrow.” Beth dodged as Braden leaned in to kiss her again.

“I decided I couldn’t wait.” He ghosted a hand down her arm, the touch as familiar and intimate as his kiss. “Are you off soon?”

“Now, as a matter of fact. A little early, but Marianne said she could close up—it’s been slow tonight. Are you hungry?”

“Always.” Braden whispered as he leaned back in, catching Beth for another kiss.

“Cut it out.” She laughed and pulled away. “I meant food. I’m going to grab a leftover sandwich and some soup. Would you like some?”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Braden said, trailing distracted fingers down her arm. “Come over to my place tonight. I’ll cook.”

“You cook?” She asked, unable to mask her disbelief.

“I’m killer with cereal and peanut butter sandwiches,” he offered. “I also make a mean spaghetti carbonara.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Something intense settled in his expression, he stepped closer, his hands running the lengths of her arms, his touch as possessive as if he’d gripped her.

Anticipation raced across her skin, tightening her nipples as heat pooled low in her gut.

“Okay,” she answered, surprised by her own excitement. “Can you give me directions?”

“You can follow me,” he said, stepping away from her. “I’m parked right next to you.”

 

An hour and a half later, Beth placed their dinner plates in the sink. A hand closed over hers when she reached for the tap.

“You don’t have to do that,” Braden whispered, letting his lips brush against her ear.

“Force of habit.” She turned in the circle of his arms and leaned against the counter. For a moment, hunger dominated his face and seized her breath.

He put a hand on the counter behind her, leaned in and trailed his lips along her jaw, nipping and nuzzling until he reached her ear. “You smell so good.”

“Liar.” She laughed breathlessly. “I smell like espresso beans.” She wrinkled her nose—no matter what she did, when she left work, she smelled like coffee.

“I always like the way you smell.” He placed an open-mouth kiss against the side of her neck, his tongue raising goose bumps and sending shivers down her spine. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt as he reached up and pulled her hair free of the tie holding it away from her face. Before it could swing forward, he plowed both hands into the wavy curls, tilted her head and plundered her mouth.

She arched into him, tasting red wine and a barely contained urge she couldn’t name but understood all too well. She wrapped an arm around his waist and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, her heart slamming against her ribs. She pushed to her toes, brushing her sensitive breasts along the flat plane of his chest, and deepened the kiss.

Whatever restraint he had broke under the force of her response. He pulled her around, backing her out of the kitchen as his tongue danced and stroked against her own. Her back hit a wall, forcing a surprised gasp from her throat that he swallowed as he slid his hands out of her hair, one wrapping around her waist, the other bracing against the wall.

Beth locked a leg around the back of his knee and pulled him closer, pressing them chest to chest and need to need. He rocked forward, sending sparks of undiluted pleasure spiraling through her. He slipped an arm around the thigh she had locked around his leg and hoisted her up until she could wrap both legs around his waist. She locked her hands around his neck and tilted her chin, her fingernails raking through his hair as he pulled his stubbled jaw across the delicate skin of her throat, then soothed it with heavy, tongue-laden kisses.

He carried her down the hallway and through a door into darkness. She clenched her thighs around him reflexively as she went into free fall, bouncing a split second later against the soft surface of a mattress. He pulled forcibly away from her, panting in the darkness.

“I have to…” He reached for something and a soft glow from the bedside lamp filled the room. “I want to see you.”

He knelt between her knees, his eyes raking over her. She let him pull her up, his hands sliding beneath her shirt, lifting it and her bra, over her head in one smooth motion. He ran a possessive hand over her hips, eliciting shivers as his palm splayed over her breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling the nipple he found.

It was all she could do to kick off her shoes and reach for the buttons of his shirt. When her fingers slipped and fumbled, he pulled the shirt swiftly over his head and reared back long enough to yank his jeans and boxers down his legs. Before she could look her fill, he dove for her, depositing wet kisses along her collarbone.

Hands and fingers attacked her jeans until they were a discarded puddle on the floor. His teeth grazed a nipple at the same time skillful fingers slid beneath her underwear and into the damp folds at the center of a need so consuming it burned through her with the intensity of a firestorm.

She pulled a knee up and open, even as she restlessly rubbed her other leg against him, beckoning him closer.

He answered her plea with tongue and lips that moved along the flat plane of her stomach. He pulled the last scrap of fabric that separated them away with a violent tug and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. The first touch of his tongue against her stole a cry from her throat and wrenched her first climax from her. Her entire body seized against his.

He didn’t let her catch her breath. He sheathed himself with a condom from the nightstand, grasped her thighs with clenching fingers and entered her with one dizzying stroke. Her heart pounded in her ears as she felt his pulse pound within her before he withdrew in an agonizingly slow stroke, then plunged back in.

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