The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) (11 page)

An eyebrow quirked.
“You’re an alien?” he said, dryly, his hands wringing the steering wheel.

“Worse. A werewolf.”

He barked a laugh.
“What kind of shitty joke is that?”

I looked at him
completely calmly. “I mean what I said.”

He twisted his whole
body to face me. “Prove it.”

“I just survived a
gutshot that hit my liver. What else do you need?” I held up my shirt. The
entry wound was already shrinking, soon it’d be like it hadn’t been there at
all. He reached a tentative finger out to touch the hole it’d left, like I had
stigmata.

His eyes met mine
again. “Show me.”

I shook my head. “No.”
If I showed him my wolf – there were rules, and then there were
rules
.
But I was cornered – and he wasn’t used to being told no. It was my own fault,
I encouraged him to boss me. “It’s why I’m gone three nights a month. I have to
hunt with my pack.”

“There are others like
you?”

I closed my eyes and
sighed. Maybe I had had some blood loss after all. “I shouldn’t have said
anything. The punishment for telling a human is death – for you, and me.”

He stared at me in
wonder as I put my shirt back down. “All those times – those fights – no wonder
I felt invincible around you.”

I smiled softly. “Not
invincible. Just harder to kill.” I tried to read his face, to see if I saw his
opinion changing. “You can never tell anyone. You have to take the secret to
your grave.”

“I will. I swear it.”

“Good.” I knew he’d be
true to his word. No one would even torture it out of him.

“I just -- I can’t
believe it. Are you sure that you can’t show me?”

“Yeah. But –“ I licked
my lips and his eyes met mine again. There was something different there now.
He wasn’t scared -- and he still wanted me. When he looked at me like that, all
my blood sank, getting ready. “Maybe there’s something I can show you.”

He nodded eagerly.

“Take me home, first.”

Vincent drove more
cautiously up to our house. He kept looking at me like I might go away, and I
kept worrying. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time – but what if he
changed his mind?

 What had I done?
Telling him about us – even if there was no reason for him to tell another
living soul, and no one would believe him if he did – it was such a huge risk,
such a completely bad idea – he put the car into park, and without saying a
word, both of us walked inside. He followed me into the bathroom.

“I want to see the rest,”
he said, looking meaningfully at the bloodstain on my shirt.

I turned my back to him
and lifted it off. He made a surprised sound, and then I felt him touching me.
I wanted to lean back into his arms and let him hold me, push me against the
wall and –

“You really are –“ he
whispered.

I swallowed my
thoughts. “I really am.” I angled myself in the mirror so I could see what he
saw. I was bloody around the exit wound, but it was healing, and the entry
wound was almost gone. “I’m going to take a shower, and let Mother Nature
finish up.” I reached into the shower and turned the hot water on.

“Sure,” Vincent said,
and kicked his shoes off.

I tilted my head.
“What’re you  --“

“I saw you thinking
about leaving in the car.” His hands went for the top button of his shirt. He
was spattered with my blood.

I leaned against the
cold glass of the shower door. “I didn’t go.”

“But you thought about
it.” His eyes were serious as he went for the next button, and the one below
that.

I nodded.

His shirt was open and
he slipped it off, letting it fall. “I don’t want you to leave me, Max. I don’t
want you to even think about leaving me.”

I closed my eyes and
let the words wash over me. It was everything I’d ever wanted to hear. The risk
of him knowing was worth the reward of being known for who I was -- and feeling
like this.

When I opened my eyes
up again he was smiling softly at me, and he stepped near. “Show me what you
want to show me, I’m not going anywhere.”

All of me, wolf and
human, thrilled. I’d been holding back for months, every time I came, wanting –
aching – to knot. I started breathing heavy, and the steam from the shower
fogged us both as he started kissing me.

I pushed his pants off
of him as he pushed mine off of me, and we danced into the shower together,
hands eagerly searching one another’s bodies, him pressing my back into the
cold tile wall as his tongue moved inside my mouth, making me moan. I could
feel his erection rubbing against my thigh and reached for it, pulling one wet
hand down his length as he reached his hands down to hold my ass and pull my
hips close. My erection rubbed against his stomach and I thrust without
thinking, wanting more for it there. I took one of his hands and put it on my
cock. He started stroking me between us as his other hand’s fingers teased the
edge of my asshole, getting me ready to take him. The pink-tinged water’d
started to run clear, I knew I was whole, I could show him, it was safe –

I pushed him back so
that he stood directly under the water streaming down from above, and I stroked
myself for him, in front of him. I wanted him to see it – I was scared to show
it – I’d been hiding it for so long -- my eyes were closed and I was biting my
lips – trying so hard to relax and let go --

His hand met mine,
taking over, and I moaned, opening my eyes again.

“Don’t stop. No matter
what,” I whispered, and he nodded, sensing how important this was for me. He
knelt down, still stroking, and lowered his head to lick my balls.

“Oh God --” I whispered,
as his tongue lapped between my balls and my leg, and then licked up the seam
of my sack, as his hand kept stroking. My hips arched forward to give him more
of me, any part he would touch or taste, and he moved his head to let me thrust
into his mouth. I stayed there, frozen for a second, as his tongue lapped up my
precum and swirled around my head. “Yes –“ I panted, my hips rocking, his hands
and mouth moving in time. I needed release – but I needed one more thing worse
--

It was safe. He was
mine. I was his. We were together. I’d spent so long holding back to protect
the both of us that it’d become second nature to me.

Please,
I begged my body, and my wolf whined.

I looked down, and saw
him staring up, watching me struggle. He pulled back. “Come for me, Max,” he
ordered. At the sound of his command, my knot flared at the base of my cock,
swelling out. He gasped – and then took me into his mouth again and sucked me
harder.

I came and I came and I
came, shooting all of my cum into his mouth, shouting unintelligible things. He
kept stroking and sucking until I was completely done – my balls had never felt
so empty, even if my cock was still hard.

I sank down the wall as
I crashed back to earth, and he folded in next to me, hot water still pouring
down. He leaned against me, and kept his free hand on my knot, where my cock
was swollen, meant to lock me to the one I loved. “What is this?” he asked,
marveling.

I looked down at my mating
knot being held by the man I adored. I wanted to keep him there forever.

“It’s –“ I flushed, not
sure how to explain it to someone not of my kind. “It’s what happens when –
when you’re with the right person.”

He made a wise noise, stroking
me. I didn’t know my knot would make me stay so hard, or feel so good whenever
he touched it. I felt exposed, but not ashamed. This was who I’d always wanted
to be with him.

“Have you gotten it
with others?” he asked.

My breath hitched. I didn’t
want to lie, not when he’d accepted all my other truths. “No,” I said, just a
whisper.

He made an even wiser noise,
and moved his mouth back on my cock.

Chapter Nine

I stayed in the creek
until I thought I’d get hypothermia. Goddamn him, what gave him the right to
act like this? I slapped an open palm against the water – and found the night
was even colder when I got out.

I had money, and I had
ID, and at least one clean pair of underwear left – I’d go up there, get my
bag, and then go, just go.

I stumbled in the dark,
my feet being poked and prodded by turned stones and the roots of trees. I got
back, and saw the fire inside the cabin burning brighter than ever and paused. I’d
floated. I hoped he wouldn’t think that made me a witch.

I got to the door and
hauled it open. He looked over his shoulder at me, his face guilty. He still
didn’t have a shirt on – what the hell was his problem with clothing?  

“I need my things and
then I’m going.” I’d walk out of here naked if I had to, I didn’t need a
goddamned thing from him anymore.

“Stay,” he said, voice
firm. I looked at him, and he at me. “We both know you don’t have anywhere
else.”

I bit my lips together.
“You heard he’s gone, didn’t you.”

“Yeah.”

I sank down to my
knees. The smoke smelled awful, but at least the fire was warm. “How?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Sure, why not.
I sunk my head, and then looked around for my robe to
cover myself with. He went and got a sweater from his non-serial-killer closet
for me and brought it back, handing it over. I tugged it on. It was huge,
hanging past my waist to bunch on the floor. It smelled like he did, musky and
good. I pulled out my necklace to sit on it between my breasts and glint in the
firelight.  

“You were his, weren’t
you.” The odd way he said it made me look at him.

“Yeah.” He was studying
me intently, the way Vincent sometimes did – used to – and then I remembered
the prior night when I’d fucked him. “Oh, God -- you must think I’m a whore.” I
had been, but --

“No. I know what it’s
like to trade sex for safety.” His eyes glazed over like he was seeing his past
not mine. “I should have known better. I should have pushed you away –“

“You couldn’t have
known.” I untucked and retucked my legs to be more comfortable, and hid my
hands inside their sleeves. That hadn’t been exactly what I was doing, but
better for him to think that. “How did you know Vincent?”

“We were lovers.” He
watched me for a reaction. “You’re not surprised?”

I shook my head. “I
knew every part about him. Even that one. We didn’t have secrets. He was very
clear about that. From the first day we met. He made me swear.” Which was why
I’d been so surprised there was only one go-bag there. I frowned, and pulled my
legs up underneath the sweater, until it enveloped me. “How long were you with
him?”

“Three years. You?”

It seemed best to be
truthful. “Seven.”

“Did he ever…mention
me?”

I couldn’t help but
hear the hopeful tone in his voice – but now was not the time for lies. “No.
I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The way he was staring into
the fire, looking lost, broke my heart. “Did you love him?”

He nodded.

“I loved him too.”

“I know. And if he
didn’t love you, you wouldn’t be here.” He stoked the fire. I saw the tail of
something blue curl inside it as it blackened.

“What was that?”

“Your robe, clothes,
and backpack. Don’t worry – I saved the money and your ID.”

“What?” I crawled
toward the fire. “You burned -- my things? Why?”

“You wouldn’t
understand.”

“But –“ I looked from
him to the flames. “That was all I had. All I had of him – my time with him –“
I reached out, like I could snatch a piece of it back.

“Not all of it.” He put
a book into my open hand. “He left this for you, Samantha.”

He knew my name now -- I
snatched the book back protectively. I hadn’t packed it – Vincent must have,
when he’d given up on his own bag. I opened it, reading by the light of the
fire.

“Samantha – I don’t
know where you’ll be when you find this, but I hope you’re safe.

If you’re gone, stay
gone. If you’re not gone yet – go. As fast as you can. Get out of town and
never come back. Pretend that you’re being chased by wolves, okay? Run and keep
running. Don’t look back.

I want you to be
happy, Sam. Start over somewhere new and when you’re safe drop this in the mail
three states over from wherever it is you are, so they can’t trace you. Send it
to US Marshall Bren -- I’ve been working with him. I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell
you. I promise we were supposed to get out together. I never wanted to leave
you in this world alone.

Be safe, Sammy. For
both of us.

I love you. 

V.”

The rest of the pages
were a list – of addresses and names, dates and dollar amounts. I thumbed
through it quickly – almost all of them were full. I sank back and my stomach
dropped as I read on.

“Have you ever seen
that before?” Max asked.

I shook my head.

“Is that what I think
it is?” his voice was low.

“The reason he got
killed? Yeah,” I said, my voice small. I riffled through the pages again.
Vincent was so safe, and so careful – and so thorough. How had he gotten
caught? “He – it’d – “ I inhaled and exhaled, trying to put my thoughts into
words. “The family changed. I mean, they were never good guys, you know? I’m
not an idiot, I could see that. But things were getting worse. The violence –
it isn’t that it wasn’t safe, it was never safe, but they were taking bigger
risks for less reward – they weren’t watching each other’s backs like they used
too –he told me it was becoming less like a family, and more like a gang. I
knew he didn’t like that, but I had no idea it’d come to this.” I hefted the
book cataloguing Vincent’s betrayal. “He was trying to bring it back, make it
better, but the others wouldn’t listen to him –“

The signs had all been
there, looking back. Hell, us even making go-bags, talking about how we’d
escape – why hadn’t I realized it sooner? This book was the result of weeks of
effort – how had he kept it hidden from me all that time? Was I blind, or just
stupid?