Wraith's Awakening (Para-Ops) (7 page)

The vehemence in her voice roused him enough to nod. She released him and, although he swayed on his feet, he didn't fall. Quickly, she grabbed Mahone, carrying him in the same lift O'Flare had used. Then amazingly, she positioned herself next to him and ordered, “Lean against me if you need to. Start walking. Now.”

Caleb walked. He didn't know how he did it, but he managed to put one foot in front of the other. At one point, he did have to lean on her and he sensed how it slowed her down, but she didn't move away. She stayed with him.

Until they made it out into the open air. He heard shouts and the sound of stomping feet just as he collapsed.

When he came to, he was being loaded into an ambulance. Riley's face hovered above him. “Mahone?” Caleb rasped out.

“Still alive,” Riley said. “But I don't know if he's going to stay that way.”

From the worried expression on the man's face, Caleb knew his own chance of survival was also in question.

“Wraith?” he asked, grabbing on to the man's shirt when he didn't answer. “What about the wraith?”

Riley shook his head. “I don't know. She passed out, same as you. No pulse, remember? No breath. No way to tell if she's alive or dead. They took her in another cab. Your guess is as good as mine.”

EXCERPT OF CHOSEN BY SIN (BOOK 3)

Dex jerked awake to the shrill sound of his cell phone. He groaned as he tried to move, his limbs as heavy as bags of cement. His muscles, his skin-hell, even his hair-ached. Blinking the haze from his eyes, he took in his surroundings-a swank hotel room designed in minimalist chic. Despite his slowness to wake, he knew exactly where he was and who was supposed to be next to him, yet he was the sole occupant of the bed.

He scanned every corner of the room and strained his ears-maybe she was in the bathroom-but his instincts told him he was alone.

The vamp had wrung him dry then left.

He tried to sort out how he felt about that, but his blasted cell phone continued to ring, making his temples throb.

Growling, he rose, staggering slightly before his feet were steady beneath him. Shit, he felt hung over. Woozy. The same way he always felt whenever he let a vamp drink his blood during a night of frenzied sex. Granted, it hadn't happened in several years, but it was a feeling he never forgot, just like he never forgot the euphoric spike of pleasure that threw him into full-out orgasm the moment a vamp's fangs penetrated his skin. Even so, he didn't remember Jes biting him last night. He checked, but felt no tenderness or puncture marks on his throat.

Apparently, it didn't matter. Sex with her had been more intense than any he'd ever experienced. Even now, just thinking about it, his growing hard-on was threatening to throw off his recently found equilibrium.

With her, inside her, time itself had changed. It had raced on, filling him with a desperate fear that he'd never be able to get his fill of her. Simultaneously, the clock had stopped ticking, allowing him to savor each sensation and every caress until his body had vibrated with something he'd never felt before. He'd emptied himself into the condoms he'd worn, yet when he'd let slumber take him, he'd felt filled with what had always eluded him.

Peace.

Contentment.

Happiness?

But those feelings were distant memories now, taunting him with the proof of her absence. Mocking him for his weakness.

Pull yourself together, Hunt. She was a fantastic lay. That's all. Anything else you felt was just your imagination.

He dug his ringing cell phone out of his jeans pocket and checked the time: 2 a.m.

Still naked, he stepped into the bathroom. “Yeah. This is Hunt.”

“Hunt,” FBI Director Kyle Mahone snapped. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Where the hell do you think I am?” He saw the note taped to the bathroom mirror and ripped it off.

You were even better than you looked. Jes.

He frowned at the flippant words of praise. What had he been expecting? Her phone number and an invitation to call? He filled a glass with water, then took a long swallow. Mahone's voice crackled out from the phone he still held in his other hand, reminding him that he hadn't even questioned her about the shape-shifters the way he was supposed to.

“Damn it, Dex. Did you hear what I-”

He lowered the glass with a thud. “I'm still in Los Angeles with the team.”

“You sure as shit aren't with the rest of the team. If you were, you'd know there's been an attempted murder on a shape-shifter. The culprit, another shape-shifter, got away. Lucy's going to the hospital to talk to the victim.”

“Which hospital?”

“Los Angeles Memorial.”

“I'll be there as soon as I-”

But Mahone had already hung up. “Shit.” Once again, Dex reached out to turn on the faucet, this time to splash some cold water on his face, but a sound drifted toward him from the bedroom.

He froze. Whoever it was hadn't come in through the hotel room door because that was next to the bathroom and Dex would have seen him.

Of course, Jesmina was a vampire with the ability to teleport. Maybe she'd forgotten something. Maybe she'd decided she hadn't had enough of him. But he knew that wasn't the case. She was long gone and now someone was out there while Dex was in the bathroom, buck-ass naked without a weapon.

“Dex, my boy, aren't you going to come out and say hello? Or are you shy now that the lady vampire's gone?”

Despite the months since he'd seen him, Dex immediately recognized the male voice as one belonging to a Feral gang member. At one time, the man's brother had been Dex's best friend. That had been before Dex had killed the man for crimes he'd committed at the were orphanage. “Rurik,” he called as he scanned the bathroom for a potential weapon. “What brings you to L.A.?”

“Just seeing the sights with some of the other Ferals.” Rurik's voice got louder as he approached the bathroom. “Imagine my surprise when what I spotted was you. And the vampire who met you at the door? Nice.”

He didn't bother asking how the were had gotten inside. A third floor balcony would be child's play for Rurik. Dex's gaze landed on a toothbrush, still wrapped in plastic, next to the sink. He snatched it up. “Sorry, but if you were hoping to join in, she's already gone.”

“Too bad. Could've been fun. But vamps were always your thing, not mine. Guess I'll just have to settle for killing you.”

He was right outside the door. Dex drawled, “Your brother was a pedophile who liked abusing little boys. He deserved exactly what he got.”

Dex heard Rurik's roar a split second before he barreled through the bathroom door. Dex grabbed the shower curtain, ripped it off the rod, and flung it toward the large werebeast lunging toward him. Rurik's gun rattled to the floor but he kept coming, barreling into Dex and sending him stumbling back. The back of Dex's knees hit the commode just as he pushed Rurik back into the bathtub. Instantly, he flipped the faucet nozzle so water streamed out of the showerhead, the water preventing Rurik from shifting into his wolf-and immortal-form.

Rurik flailed at the clingy fabric. Just as he swiped a portion away from his face, Dex punched the hard plastic handle of the toothbrush into one of the were's eye sockets. Rurik howled but Dex didn't pause. He slammed Rurik's head against the tub several times until he was unconscious.

Swiftly, Dex patted Rurik down, but the were had nothing on him. Dex grabbed Rurik's gun off the floor. It was loaded with tranquilizers, not bullets. So Rurik's mission hadn't been to kill Dex but kidnap him. Why? So he could torture him first?

“Wake up,” Dex growled. He shook the were, then slapped his face several times. Rurik didn't stir.

Damn it, he wanted to question Rurik, make sure he hadn't done anything to Jes, but he needed to get to the hospital, too. He scanned the room as if searching for an answer.

From his position low to the ground, he saw the hairdryer under the sink that he'd failed to spot earlier. He grabbed the hairdryer and ripped the cord out of the appliance. He turned, intending to tie Rurik's hands and ankles, but heavy fingers wrapped around his wrists and wrestled him for the cord. Caught off guard, he sprawled backwards, giving Rurik the chance to twist the cord around his neck. Dex barely managed to keep his fingers between the noose and his flesh.

Abandoning the cord, Rurik wrapped his fingers around Dex's throat, squeezing the air out of Dex's lungs far too quickly.

He grabbed Rurik's thick wrists and tried to pull them away, but the pressure didn't lessen. From the corner of his eye, Dex saw the hairdryer he'd tossed aside. Gasping, he stretched out the fingers of one hand. The appliance was just out of his reach. Dots appeared in front of him and his vision began to dim.

With a frantic lunge, he grabbed hold of the hairdryer's handle and slammed it against Rurik's temple. At the same time, he grabbed the dangling end of the cord, the one that still had the socket prongs attached, and punched the metal into Rurik's other temple. With a vicious twist, he snapped the were's neck.

Rurik collapsed. When Dex rolled him off him, Rurik's eyes were open and unseeing. Dex stared impassively at the gruesome sight. “When you get to hell, tell your brother I send my regards. I'll see you both soon.” He turned to retrieve his phone just as it rang. . .

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COPYRIGHT

Wraith's Awakening is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

2011 Virna De Paul

Copyright © 2011 by Virna De Paul

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States