OmegaMine (2 page)
Authors: Aline Hunter
Odd.
Vampires glamoured, fed and left their victims where they
dropped. On a rare occasion they took victims as feeders, forcing them into
servitude, but that only happened when they tasted a rare vintage or found a
donor impossible to resist. She was beautiful enough to warrant the second
notion but his gut told him that wasn’t the reason.
Why would they want to take this female without sampling her
first?
A shrill siren sounded in the distance, probably four or
five alleys over, bringing things back into focus. First things first, he had
to get her out of here. Questions would come after he got her home, cleaned her
up, took off her clothes and tucked her into his bed.
Don’t even go there.
No, definitely not home. He would take her to the hospital.
They could care for her there and see that she found her way home. Someone had
to be searching for her. Parents, siblings. A lover or husband…
A throaty growl of rage crept up his throat.
Oh yeah. He definitely needed to drop her off and walk away.
No strings attached. Reacting like this could lead to things he didn’t want to
think about, like lifemates and bloodbonding.
He knew he was fucked the minute he lifted her in his arms
and all the beasts beneath his skin growled in contentment, each one brushing
against the inside of his skin. They came at the same time, fighting for a
place to break free and make their own unique mark of claim. The animal forms
he possessed had chosen random females they’d appreciated over the years, but
never had they voiced approval at the same time.
Holy fucking shit.
The sensation was jolting and set him off balance. He
stumbled with her in his arms like a sloppy drunk and struggled to remain in
human form. He willed his beasts to back off and growled when they didn’t obey.
Cold air caressed the beads of sweat on his forehead, cooling him down until he
was in control once more.
I have to get her the fuck away from me.
The thought brought him to his knees.
The pain of meeting the hard concrete was nothing compared
to the agony of an inevitable shift. Not when all of the primordial parts of
him were battling for supremacy. They’d rip him apart to gain favor and take
control. It was an indisputable fact. Only one thing would soothe them,
bringing each and every one of them together, but in the doing would cement his
fate whether he liked it or not.
Unable to do anything else, he accepted the will of his
animalistic halves and buried his face into the neck of the unconscious female,
pulling her scent into his lungs. The fragrance was like a balm that tamed and
calmed, starting in his nostrils and winding its way through his body. He
darted his tongue out and tasted the skin along her throat, lapping reverently
at her tender flesh. With that first taste of her sweetness the burning in his
bones lifted and the tingling along the surface of his skin vanished.
Fucking hell.
Allowing the man to walk away was one thing, but this was
something else entirely. He lifted his head and brushed a shaky finger against
a chunk of pink hair, swallowing thickly.
“Let’s get you out of here, Pinkie.”
She weighed next to nothing, and with her short stature it
was easy to situate her in his lap on the bike. The loud roar of the Harley
didn’t rouse her, and he realized just how vulnerable she was. Like a tiny,
helpless kitten nestled against his chest. Her small head notched under his
chin when he lifted the kickstand with his heel and shoved it into place.
“Hang on,” he whispered into the softness of her hair and
wrapped his right arm around her waist.
She didn’t make a sound when he guided the bike onto the
road, put on speed and took off in the direction of home. This was the
stupidest thing he had ever done, and he’d done some pretty idiotic shit in the
past. Hopefully by the time she woke he’d have a handle on himself and they
would have the opportunity to talk.
Talk
. Now that was a laughable thought.
He couldn’t talk to her like this. Not with his rock-hard
cock straining against his leathers. The fucking thing was practically begging
her to touch it, pulsing against her soft bottom as if it were attempting to
gain her undivided attention.
Christ.
Sure, they would talk. After he took an ice-cold shower and
stroked himself to a good strong release…
The air carried her succulent scent to his nose and his
muscles went taut before his entire body shuddered.
Better make that two
.
Chapter Two
Something fuzzy brushed against Ava’s nose, rousing her from
a restful slumber. She grumbled and swatted at the softness with her fingers,
shifting her body slightly. Hot breath and the discernible funk of dog food
crashed into her face as something cool and wet prodded her chin, followed by
the brush of a rough, warm tongue.
“What the—” She opened her eyes, met the stare of an
enormous beast and screamed loud enough to wake the dead.
Scrambling wildly, she fell off the side of an unfamiliar
bed in a tangle of sheets, limbs thrashing, and struggled to gain her balance.
The fact that she was clothed in nothing more than her underwear, in a room she
didn’t recognize, didn’t register. Her focus was on the hideous canine that
plopped down on its rear across from her and tilted its head to the side as if
it were trying to gauge her reaction.
“Stay,” she ordered in a pitifully weak voice. The massive
thing started to move and she swallowed loudly, inching toward a door on the
left. “God, but you’re an ugly one. Aren’t you?”
The dog’s haunches came off the bed and it growled, baring
teeth.
Not good
.
“Whoa, ugly,” she ordered and lunged for the door. Once
she’d snatched the handle, she turned it and applied pressure with desperate
fingers.
The dog barreled off the bed and she pushed at the door.
Crying out when it gave way, she fell inside a pitch-black space. She didn’t
think twice about slamming the thin barrier closed and facing the darkness. Dark
she could handle. Deranged wildebeests with fangs the size of tusks were
another thing altogether.
Heavy claws bore down on the other side of the door,
scraping viciously. Growls became heavy brays, so loud the door vibrated with
each deep bellow. Scooting on her palms and heels, she tried to place as much
space between her and the hound from hell as possible, kicking away from the
crack of light against the hardwood floor. Something brushed against the top of
her head and she lashed out, squealing in terror while slapping at the flimsy
thing with her hands. Objects fell on top of her, some light, some thick and
heavy. The harder she thrashed and fought the more she became entangled in the
mess.
The loud howls came to an abrupt stop when she heard a man order
in a deep husky baritone, “Quiet, Oscar! Sit.”
The handle jiggled and the door opened. Sunlight poured in
and she slapped at what she was mortified to discover were sheets and blankets.
A large form appeared in the doorway and she froze. Memories from the night
before rushed back, sending her into a panic. Vampires had attacked and the
entire world had gone black. But she wasn’t dead and the sun was shining.
What the hell happened between then and now
?
Desperate for answers, she reached out with her mind, homed
in on her captor’s thoughts and listened. A big wall of nothing greeted her. It
was daytime, so he wasn’t a vampire. She eyed the enormous shape before her.
She couldn’t make out his face but he was big, big and big…
Oh crap.
Shifter
.
“It’s all right, Pinkie,” the form said softly and crouched.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“D-dog,” she stammered dumbly and hated herself for sounding
like a complete ninny and idiot. Of course he knew a rabid canine was present.
He’d called the damn thing off. Unfortunately she couldn’t think of anything
intelligent to say.
“Let me guess.” His shadowed head tilted to the side and she
detected laughter in his voice. “You called him ugly.”
“What?” She swatted at a sheet dangling next to her face and
scowled at his corresponding throaty chuckle.
“Oscar.” He lifted a hand and flicked his thumb over his
shoulder. “You told him he wasn’t much to look at. Didn’t you?”
Her face flamed in embarrassment. What if the dog wasn’t
really a dog at all? She hadn’t been around a shifter in animal form before but
the hideous thing was terrifying—and large—enough to pass for one.
“Yes.”
Clucking his tongue, he stood and flicked a switch on the
wall. “I would suggest you keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself from here
on in. Oscar is as docile as a lamb until you remind him he’s got a face only a
momma could love. You might find this hard to believe but he was quite a
heartbreaker as a pup.”
His words didn’t process, not when she got her first look at
the owner of that deep, commanding baritone. Working in a dance club meant she
saw her fair share of preternatural creatures—vampires, shifters and demons
were common patrons of the establishment—and through it all, she’d learned one
valuable lesson. Steer clear of them. They were as dangerous as they were sexy,
able to tear people apart before they felt that first, telling bite of pain.
She knew better than anyone not to take the stranger in, not to view him as a
man or to allow herself to fantasize about what could never be between them.
But god help her, shifter had never looked so good.
He was barefoot, dressed in a snug pair of faded blue jeans
and a thick brown sweater with a Cleveland Browns logo in the center. Rich
black hair fell in thick strands to his shoulders, framing a face with full, sensual
lips, a straight nose and a squared jaw shadowed with a slathering of equally
dark stubble that made her heart skip a beat. His beautiful mouth curved in
amusement when she did a double take and she quickly averted her eyes, knowing
he’d caught her staring.
Busted.
“What happened? How did I get here?” she asked and licked
her lips before bringing the bottom one between her teeth. It sounded like he
groaned but she wasn’t willing to glance up to be sure.
“How much do you remember?”
He doesn’t know you’re aware of what he is
, she
reminded herself.
Keep it that way
.
“Two men tried to mug me. When I fought one of them decked
me. I don’t remember anything after that.” She found the courage to meet his
eyes and anything else she wanted to say died in her throat. His irises were a
pure vibrant gold. There was no way he could pass for human, not with peepers
like those.
Oh god
.
She tore her eyes away and recalled all the reasons she
couldn’t allow herself to fantasize about those lips, those eyes or what was sure
to be a perfectly toned and sculpted body beneath his clothes. Yet even as she
tried she felt her body respond, nipples going hard and panties becoming moist.
And he could smell her arousal.
Damn, damn, damn!
Stop thinking impure thoughts. You cannot have him. He’s
from a different species that likes to bite, control and dominate.
“Who are you?” She choked out the question.
He approached oh so slowly and sweet Mary Jane if his body
didn’t ripple with the movement. He knelt inches from her and reached out. His
fingers were wide and thick, the tips blunt but slightly rounded, the nails
trimmed short. Her eyes went wide when he slid his fingers behind her ear and
palmed her jaw. Electricity accompanied his touch, sharp bristles of pleasure
that zinged through her skin, traveled down her spine and went directly to her
sex.
Gasping softly, she kept her eyes locked on to his mouth as
he neared. The distance between them vanished and that glorious face of his
came closer, then closer still. He smelled of soap and water—fresh, clean and
undeniably male. When his lips stopped scant millimeters from her own, she
detected the tantalizing aromas of coffee and sugar.
“Diskant.” He breathed his name against her mouth, so close
she could taste him.
Diskant?
The name struck a chord of recognition but
the memory was hazy.
Lifting her gaze was foolhardy and dangerous but she did so
anyway. Beautiful pools of shimmering gold stared back. The hand at her jaw
drifted down, traveling along the length of her throat and past her collarbone.
It was such a gentle touch, fingers barely skimming the surface of the skin.
Goose bumps followed the path he created, a winding trail of prickling heat
that shot all the way to her bones.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, never breaking the eye contact.
“B-beautiful?”
“Your eyes,” he answered. “So blue.”
Air escaped her lungs in a quiet sigh and her lids slid
closed when his lips brushed against hers, side to side, left to right. The
gesture was so innocent, so intimate. Her mouth opened in welcome and he
accepted the invitation like a gentleman. His tongue slid past her lips,
allowing her to taste him for the first time. The sweetness of hazelnut and
sugar coated her tongue. She moaned, lifted her left hand and wrapped her
fingers loosely around his wrist.
His tongue flicked against hers, teasing and taunting. She
responded, mirroring the laps until the tips of their tongues touched, pulled
away and met once more. It was a treacherous game of cat and mouse. He baited
her, offering her his tongue before moving away, forcing her to chase and
follow. Each pass fueled the fire in her veins and increased the pulsating heat
wetting the skin between her legs.
When she felt him initiate more, delving deeper and tasting
her completely, she was eager to give him what he desired. Her lips parted and
she allowed him to take control, to dominate her mouth. He explored each and
every crevice, tracing her lips before tasting her deeply. His teeth captured
the tip of her tongue when she tried to follow his lead. He sucked the tiny
nub, flicking his own tongue across the surface in agonizingly slow circles.
