Perfect Mate (24 page)

“Hello, sweetheart, going somewhere?”

She opened her mouth, intending to go for the “little woman in need of protection” act. Anything to get someone between her and the vampire in the darkness behind her. But the glitter in his eyes stopped her. There was no concern, just a predatory gleam in his pale blue eyes. Human or not, she knew in an instant she wasn’t getting out of this alive. If he got hold of her, she’d wish for death long before it came.
 

Without thinking about it, she hurled the only weapon she had, her shoe, at him. Her aim was bang on. The slight heel hit him right in the nose. Blood splattered across his camouflaged skin, the scarlet vivid even in the silvery light of the moon.
 

“You bitch!”
 

She didn’t wait around. Spinning on her heels, Lillian ran back the way she’d come. Her arms and legs pumped as she tried to put as much distance between her and the soldier she’d assaulted with a ballet flat as quickly as possible. Lillian Rosewood, master of origami and the ancient art of shoe-kung fu. Yeah right, she was so scared right now that if Bugs Bunny jumped out of the shadows in front of her, she’d shit herself.

Hitting a turn in the path, she slipped again but made it around. The heavy sound of booted feet thundered behind her. He was gaining, shouting threats as he ran. Looking around wildly, she tried to find somewhere to hide. He was human, not a wolf nor a vampire. If she could get out of sight, she had a chance.
 

Time was running out. She turned, still looking, her hair getting in her eyes. There, off the path. A huge broad trunk spilt by lightening, half of the wooden giant lying in state across the forest floor whilst the other reached majestically for the sky, as though unaware it was already dead.
 

Perfect. Her breathing rasped like a chainsaw in her ears as she raced through the undergrowth and scrambled under a loop of the fallen trunk. The warnings behind her got louder as she tucked herself into the charred hollow of the trunk and tried not to breathe. The gap was so small she felt as if she was in a coffin, her breasts squashed her knees. Breathing was bad; she might as well trumpet her location to the world.
 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are. Don’t make me find you. That’ll just make me mad. You won’t like me when I’m mad.”

Why, asshole? Do you turn green and dumb…no, wait, you’re already dumb.
Despite her sarcastic thoughts, fear made it easy for her to keep quiet. Ignoring the burn in her legs, she didn’t make a sound. Hidden from sight, sound was the only thing that would—

“Got you, bitch.”

A hard hand closed around her arm. She screamed, fighting to stay concealed but he was too strong for her. The charred bark cut into the soft flesh of her knees, then snapped as he hauled her from her hiding place and into the open.

He wasn’t alone. More shadowy figures surrounded her as he threw her to the ground and started to unbuckle his belt. “Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?”

Chapter Nineteen

Darce felt his jaw drop, but couldn’t do anything about it. She was beautiful. The epitome of feminine grace and lethality all wrapped up into one lithe yet curvy package that had his heart racing and his cock as stiff as an iron bar. Crouched in front of him, she was dressed for combat but looked nothing like any soldier he’d ever seen. Certainly none he’d ever served with heated his blood and tented his pants like this one did.

“Move out of the way.”

Her voice was a melodious snarl, its dulcet tones stroking along the back of his neck as though it had fingers of its own. He wanted nothing more than to obey her, to step aside and let her pass. If he did that, though, Lillian’s blood would be on his head. If that happened, Jack would rip his still-beating heart from his chest, and Darce really liked it where it was.
 

“Aww come on, doll. How about you stay and play a while?”
 

Watching her carefully, he took a step forward, then another. Adrenalin and wariness raced through his veins in tandem, a heady feeling. Baiting a Blood was like baiting a feral tiger. Dangerous as fuck.
 

It was the most fun he’d had in months.
 

“Forget the human. I’m much more fun, I promise.”

Her eyes didn’t leave him as he walked forward. Even if he couldn’t smell the difference in her scent, he would have known instantly from her stillness that she wasn’t human. Humans didn’t do “statue” very well, but Bloods managed it to perfection.
 

A hunting technique
, the logical side of his brain informed him. The infection had hyper-evolved its victims into predators. Ones that preyed on humanity. The human eye was drawn to movement, so it stood to reason any creature hunting it could freeze at will. Like how she’d been hiding in the branches above them. Perfectly still, almost unseen, until her scent had given her away.
 

“I’ll even roll over and let you rub my tummy, if you ask nicely.”
 

Darce held his breath as he took another step. He was almost within range, just two more steps at the most, then it was game on. The murderous look in her eyes warned him that he couldn’t let her get past him. Not that he intended to. Her scent wrapped around him and woke the beast inside. It growled and paced, not liking to be caged with their mate so close.
 

“I’ll rip your fucking guts out.”
 

She shifted back a pace, still watching him. He took a step forward. She was nervous of him. Good. Even though she was his mate, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe from harm, Darce knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. She was in blood lust, her eyes shining with a feral light as she looked past him the way Lillian had run.
 

He was going to have to beat the living snot out of her to break its spell.

“Why don’t you come try?”
 

He stepped in, his arms spread wide in invitation. Every cell in his body tensed in anticipation of her attack. He didn’t allow his gaze to drop from her eyes, but he knew the fingers coiled into the dirt beneath her weren’t human anymore. He’d caught a glimpse of razor-sharp talons as she’d dropped from the branches above.
 

Their gazes locked, time stretched between them as tension grew. With the threat of violence, his vision sharpened and cast everything around him into high relief. The slightest movement drew his attention, the smallest sound. Power roared through his veins and the potential of his change crawled over his skin like a thousand ants.
 

She attacked without warning. Fast and low. He had barely enough time to block as one set of claws slashed at his face and the other toward his abdomen. Heat and pain drew lines across his forearms as her talons opened his skin like a hot knife through butter. Setting his teeth, he ignored it and broke away.
 

His joking demeanor fell away. She was fast. Faster than he’d thought.

“Not so cocky now, are you, sunshine?” A hint of amusement entered her eyes as she circled him. Graceful. Lethal. Like the big cats he’d admired as a child. Would she purr when he had her in his arms?

He shrugged. Blood ran down his arms and dripped from the ends of his fingers. He hadn’t shifted. Not yet. The power coiled and writhed just under his skin. He held onto it despite the sting.
 

“I’m always cocky. It’s part of my charm.”
 

He didn’t cup his crotch as he normally would or otherwise bring to her attention that he was hard. She might think he was some sick fuck who got off on violence. How could he explain to a Blood he was hard because she was his one and only? She’d tear his throat out first.
 

He turned as she moved, careful not to put his back to her. She watched him, her stare as unflinching as a snake. He wondered what color her eyes had been before the change had stolen all the color from them.
 

She lunged again, testing his reactions. He blocked, but she was already moving. A whirling dervish of fists and feet. His heart pounded and his breath rasped. His world narrowed down to blocking her lethal strikes and trying to find a way past her defenses. Smaller and lighter, she could play chicken with a freight train if she wanted. But so could he.
Just one hit, that’s all he needed.

Talking was a thing of the past as the battle raged around the small clearing. The moon hung above them, its glare unimpeded as it lit the clearing like a spotlight. He twisted and turned, using everything he had as she worked away. Bloods were closer to the dead than Lycans were, but even so, he could see she was breathing as heavily as he was, the front of her uniform soaked in sweat and outlining her breasts.

His mind took a break, high-tailing it off into the land of fantasy and wet dreams as he imagined stripping the wet fabric from those luscious mounds. His mouth watered at the thought of sucking her erect nipples. They’d be small and perky…

She opened his cheek from eye to jaw.
 

“Pay attention, mutt.”

Darce rocked back on his heels, his guard coming up a little bit too late as he waited for her to rain blows down on him. Damn it. He’d let his imagination get away with him. Let her scent affect him so much he took his eye off the ball. His irreverent sense of humor snickered deep inside. Wolf…Dog. Ball.
 

The attack never came. Instead, she wheeled away and paced around him as he recovered. He wiped a hand across his face. The line she’d drawn with her claws would scar. He could feel it already. Absurdly, he smiled, even though it hurt like a bitch, the edges of the wound puckering and burning. She’d marked him. Every day he’d look in the mirror and remember her.
 

“That all you got, doll?” He blew her a kiss. “I’m gonna think you’re sweet on me. Or are they diluting down the stuff they use to make you guys these days?”

That did it. Rage filled her eyes, the deep black shining with red. He dropped to a defensive crouch, ready for anything, and suppressed a shudder. Red eyes. Man, that was some scary shit.
 

He barely had time to collect himself before she charged. This time, the game was on in earnest. She was a tsunami of anger and sheer skill. He couldn’t keep up with the flurry of blows. No time for teasing her now. He traded witty comments for breathing, blocking for all he was worth as he tried to turn the tide of the battle. She worked him like a speed carver. Always chipping away, trying to get past his guard and reach his throat or the relative softness of his unprotected abdomen.
 

Change, change. Me, me, me!
the wolf inside demanded. But he refused it, locking it within his human flesh. She was shit-fast and intelligent as hell. He needed all his human smarts. The wolf was fast, probably faster than she was, but he couldn’t risk a shift and have her out-think him.
 

The flurry of blows continued. He had to let some through, grunting as they landed with bruising intensity, so he could throw his own. Her face drew tight with pain each time one landed. His heart ached. Pounding on his own mate? He was a shit.

He saw the opening. She slid to the side and pulled her arm back to deliver a blow that would rock his head on his neck but left her side unguarded. Quick as a snake, he slid into the gap and wrapped her up. He shoved his leg around hers, a big arm twining round her neck as he used his hip as a pivot point. He yanked. Rode her falling body to the floor and pinned her.
 

She fought like a wildcat. All sharp edges and hard knees. It was like riding a bucking bronco, but way more fun. He panted as he got a leg over both hers, bringing his groin flush against hers. Within seconds, he had her hands pinned above her head.
 

Even though there was no way out, she still fought him. Spitting fury she tried to wrench her hands away, the movement so violent he felt the bones beneath the delicate skin pop.

“Hey, hey…let it go, doll,” he breathed against her ear. Her heart pounded almost as fast as a human heart, betraying her fear. If he felt a shit before, now he felt lower than shit. He was proto-shit. No, lower than that. Sub-shit. The lowest of the low.
 

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

All movement beneath him stopped. He looked up and right into the dark wells of her eyes. The expression there nearly killed him. Loneliness, misery and fear warred with something else. The tiniest expression trying to break through like a plant struggling to grow in the middle of a concrete jungle. Hope…and longing.

Unable to help himself, he lowered his head and claimed her lips. Just the softest brush of his lips over hers.
 

She flinched at the touch, but didn’t turn away. Just held still under him. Unmoving.
Slow
, he cautioned himself. He needed to seduce her senses and get her to open up to him. Her lips were like silk, soft and yielding with just a hint of something indefinable. Erotic and innocent at the same time. He knew from just one touch he’d never be able to get enough. He bit back a moan, resisting the urge to dominate and take what he wanted.
 

He nibbled at her lower lip, careful not to nip her even with his human-blunt teeth. She was a Blood, but that didn’t mean she found biting sexy…and he couldn’t afford to fall prey to stereotype in his battle to win her heart. The firm, uncompromising line of her lips started to soften as he continued his assault, molded to his, then started to cling. His heart sang. She wasn’t indifferent to him. Behind her hesitant response, there were fires of passion. He just needed to coax them out.