Authors: Charlene Hartnady
High priority. Red Flag.
Warning!
It was a picture of Bee. Full of life and bubbling energy. Beautiful in a lime green, strappy summer dress. It accentuated her curves and those stunning golden eyes. Her full name was Brice Darkstead and she’d been missing for a little over four months. His heart sank. It couldn’t be.
Apprehend with extreme caution
. Not a warning the Agency doled out casually. The woman sleeping in his bed was a suspected hybrid and a suspect in the assault of an elderly homeless man just last night. His heart sank down the rest of the way colliding with rock bottom. Of all the demon species, it had to be one of the most aggressive unknown ones. There was a nice little slice of demon skin inside her. Skins were bad motherfuckers. It had to be a mistake. Bee…Brice was so controlled, sweet. He had only spent a short time with her, yet had seen no sign of the demon that must be lurking just below the surface.
His vision.
Her face distorted. Gleaming fangs as sharp as daggers. Her intention of ripping his throat out clear on her face. In that instant, she had looked very much the part. Only one thing to do about it, he picked up his phone and even dialled the first few numbers before slamming the device shut.
“Damn!” He couldn’t do it. Garrett knew full well what happened to captured hybrids. Dangerous lethal creatures. That was referring to the ones with tame demon species. For the good of humanity, hybrids were put to death. No exceptions. The problem was that they had started life as humans and had only taken a part of the demon inside of them later on. Never being able to learn to control the traits of that particular species.
Before he called this in to DCA, he and Brice would have a little talk. For whatever reason, he felt he owed her that much. The truly strange thing was that he felt no danger. His instincts told him to trust her. And in as much as his visions were always accurate, his gut had never let him down before either. It was all a part of his gift. His curse. Depending on how you looked at it.
****
Just as the first streaks of light tainted the sky, Brice opened her eyes. She sucked in a deep lungful of air and sat upright. The peace, the calm, the quiet gone. The thing was back. Just a whisper, but there. That hated feeling that she was no longer fully under control was back as well. Instantly she craved the silence. Craved the man who had brought it.
As she got off the bed and stood, she noticed her ankle was fully healed. The door to his bedroom was shut, so she opened it. It was an instantaneous feeling of calmness as the thing pulled back. She closed her eyes breathing a sigh of relief. A few more steps and she could see him stretched out on the sofa. Asleep. A sheet barely covered his hips.
That gnawing hunger was back. Shit on a chocolate sundae, but she was seriously turned on. It couldn’t be. No way. It wasn’t just her, the thing was also turned on. For the first time since…she had become possessed for lack of a better word, the thing and her were in agreement. They both wanted the same thing.
Him
. Broad chest with a smattering of hair. Biceps a man could seriously be proud of and those tattoos. There was one of a dragon, it was big, black and spread across his chest. Before she could catch a look at the one on his arm, a third one caught her attention. It was on his stomach, unfortunately, mostly covered by white cotton. She could make out the first two words…
Until you
…Bee found herself leaning forward desperate for more. Desperate to know what was written there. Wanting to trace each and every word with her tongue. So close to his…oh God…lapping and laving all the way to…Where did that come from? Surely not from her. Had to be from…the thing. Before she could think on it, Garrett turned restlessly, he crinkled his nose. Did she reek so badly she was going to wake him up?
Damn it
. One foot behind the other, she backed up. Slowly.
The bathroom was inter-leading off his bedroom. Just the thought of washing all of the filth off of her was exhilarating. Bee traced her way back, leaving the door open. All the while, the thing stayed silent. It was only when she tried to close the bathroom door that it reared up. If the doors were open it was happy to rest, but if she tried to shut Garrett away it clawed its way to the surface. She tested the theory a couple of times opening and closing the door. Unbelievable. The thing was content when it felt he was near. Aggravated when it felt closed off from him. What was she supposed to do? Live out the rest of her life with him. Hardly. It was not about to happen. Best she enjoy the freedom and start preparing herself for when she left. This could be her little vacation. Maybe he would let her visit from time to time. Why did things have to be so complicated?
It had been so long since she had felt normal, she’d almost forgotten how much she liked it. To have her life back. Friends. Family. Purpose. All she’d been doing was surviving. Concentrating every minute of every day on staying calm.
It would be better if she was quick in the shower. The doors were wide open. As attracted to him as she was, he was still a stranger. Yet, the thought of him seeing her naked didn’t offend her nearly as much as it should have.
Bee pulled the layers of clothes off, letting them fall in a stinking pile at her feet. As she looked down, she was touched and a little embarrassed that Garret had taken the time to bandage her foot. Next she adjusted the faucets until the water was just right. Unable to help it, she groaned as the first spray hit her. Grabbing the shower gel, she lathered a thick layer both onto her hair and her body. It smelt distinctly male. Like him. She had to suppress another moan at the thought. Once rinsed, she began again by reapplying another layer. The problem was, as she watched the filth pour down the drain, it felt as if she was washing away the last few months. That if she scrubbed hard enough, maybe the thing would go too. It was a dangerous thought because instinctively she knew that she would never be rid of it. It was as much a part of her as her own heart now. Its tendrils ran deep anchoring right into her soul. To sever such an intimate connection was to die.
****
So much for her needing to feel safe. Needing to sleep in his room. So much for locking the damned door. Forget locking, the least she could have done was close the door. Thank God for frosted glass.
He’d been in the process of reaching for his gun, the one he’d stashed under his pillow, when he heard the shower. Garrett had never realized how perfectly lined up the bedroom and the bathroom were. How easy it was to look straight into the shower. How small his apartment really was. The frosted glass did plenty to obscure his view. It didn’t do nearly enough though. He could still make out each feminine curve from the flare of her hip to the curve of her deceptively full breasts. With difficulty, he looked away, took his weapon and stood. Garrett meant to get dressed and as far away as his small apartment would allow him to when the shower stopped and Bee stepped out. Their eyes locked. His blood thickened, heated, searing a path through his body. Every part of him awakened. Especially one part in particular.
Bee didn’t react in a way he expected. There were no squeals or reaching for a towel to cover herself. She just stood there wet and glistening. Her nipples puckered into hard jutting points. Growing harder under his scrutiny. He couldn’t help but look. Those hard nubs were dark against her fair skin. And the thatch of midnight curls at the apex of her thighs. Au natural never looked so good. Ah hell, he could feel himself harden, lengthen a whole lot more. How could his mouth feel so damned dry yet so ready to drool all at once?
Her eyes dropped half-mast and her raspberry stained lips opened as she released a rugged breath. He knew in that instant that if he were to go to her, she would let him. Garrett could have her sprawled on his bed in seconds. Could have her crying his name as he pumped into her if he so wished. Despite his vision, he was sorely tempted. But Bee…Brice was a hybrid no matter how much he wished to believe otherwise.
What was her game? Hybrids were not interested in sex only blood, death. But isn’t that what his vision had predicted? Was she tempting him so that he would let his guard down so she could kill him?
“Get dressed,” it came out sounding gruffer than he’d intended. “Help yourself to whatever you need.” She took a step towards him, but he put up his hand stopping her. Thank God.
A shadow slipped across her face. A pained, hurt look. It affected him more than it should have, made him want to apologize but damn it she was a hybrid. He a Demon Chaser. An apology was
not
going to happen. “Don’t.”
Stay there
. “Get dressed.” The words were strained, a little choked, as he turned scrubbing a hand over his face.
This was ridiculous. They hadn’t said more than two words to one another. He wasn’t the kind of guy that had sex indiscriminately. One that was ruled by his dick. He’d seen first-hand the kind of damage a man like that could do. Could still hear his mother crying herself to sleep waiting for his father to come home from whichever pussy he’d decided on for the night. Unfortunately, he did share a certain amount of DNA with the man, but they were nothing alike. Nothing. Garrett would make sure of it. But fuck if he didn’t still have a raging hard on and not for the first time since meeting her.
Remembering the way she’d devoured that sandwich didn’t help either. Those unbelievable little moans and whimpers. The way her tongue had whipped across her full lower lip every few bites. Better not to think about that right now, he was trying to lose the erection not make it worse.
Chapter 4
The wonderful scent of fresh bamboo shoots and the first dew on a spring morning hit him straight in the nose. Sure there was an overtone of soap from her shower, but the one thing she smelt most of was power, barely contained, wild, hungry power. Like the way the air smelt as a thunder storm brewed. The gathering. The build. Strong and pulsing. Just his luck, it was one of the most intoxicating, most desirable scents he’d ever had the opportunity to savor. He clenched his hand on his coffee mug and closed his eyes for a few beats. What had he ever done to deserve this?
To make matters worse, she was wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. Sweet Jesus. The least she could have done was dry off first. But that would be fate letting him off easy. Fate wanted the pale blue cotton to mould and stick to her in all the right places. There was a Nike twirl on her left breast, he heard the slogan ‘Just do it’ echo inside his head. It all taunted him. There were forces at work here. Forces that wanted his vision to come about.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…for that to have happened. Didn’t mean for…you…me…”
“It’s fine. It was an accident.” He saw more of that same innocence as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
Then, even worse, she cast her eyes down to her feet. “I also…I’m sorry, but I used your toothbrush. I have this thing about my teeth. Stupid I know…considering.”
“It’s not,” he mumbled. “Don’t worry I have a spare. Coffee?”
“Is there any more of that juice? Maybe some eggs and bacon?”
Something to drink yes. The food, could wait. He wasn’t about to subject himself to more of her sexy moans. At least not until they’d had their little chat.
****
Why was he so angry with her? It had been an accident. She had even apologized. Had never meant for it to happen. But she wasn’t sorry really. It still buzzed from the experience. Her thing actually vibrated inside of her.
His eyes had glazed and heated growing more intense as they smouldered across every inch of her naked body. Branding her with his gaze. His boxers had tented with what could only be a hell of an erection. That’s when the vibrations had started. The thing was so happy, deliriously so. She’d taken a step towards him. Something she wanted but had the feeling she would have done regardless of her own feelings. The thing had taken control. It wanted him. Maybe more than she did and she wanted him
bad
.
Garrett smacked down two glasses of juice, jolting her back to the present. He gestured for her to sit, taking a chair on the opposite side of the table. He was wearing the clothes from last night. Complete with the tell-tale bulge of the weapon he had been holding a few minutes ago. Why did he need it? Was he afraid of her? He was probably the only person on the planet that had nothing to fear from her.
“It’s time we cut the bullshit.” His eyes had turned a gleaming gun metal grey. His brow became more furrowed than she thought possible. Hard, stern, even more attractive. “Who the hell are you? I want details.”
“I told you. I’m Bee.”
“Bee who?”
“I’m nobody.” She downed the juice.
Shit, shit, shit
. Vacation time was over and all too soon. She’d been really stupid to let her guard down. To get so comfortable around him. He was a cop. The enemy. “Look, forget it okay. I’m gone. Out of your hair.” She downed the juice, only just managing to hold back a groan. Nothing had ever tasted as good. And she had so hoped to be able to wash her clothes at least before having to go back. To get those eggs and a mountain of crispy bacon. To be close to him for a few more precious hours. Brice stood sighing softly as she rose.
“Sit.” She met the gathering storm clouds that were his eyes. “Now.”
Shit with sugar
. He meant business. The thing had gone back to being silent. Almost gone. So strange, she was in a compromising situation and it gave her nothing. It was going to be so hard to leave. Reluctantly, she did as he said and lowered herself to the chair.
“Talk. Who are you?” he growled.
“Brice,” her name just slipped out. She didn’t like him angry.
“Brice who?”
“I’d really rather not say.”
“Why?”
“I ran away a couple of months ago and don’t want to be found.” Damn, she was still finding it impossible to lie to him. Not that she’d ever been much of a liar before, but right now the situation demanded it. Yet, truth after truth kept leaving her traitorous mouth.