Wicked Bite Page 6

  Angie’s head jerked back. The heat inside her cooled. The young woman settled back to the floor with a sigh. Her eyelids closed, and she passed into unconsciousness.

  Lucas knelt down again, soot across his brow. “What are you doing?”

  Nessa didn’t have the strength to answer. She swayed.

  “Whoa.” Bear dropped to his haunches and supported her. “Nessa? ”

  She leaned against him. “Angie will be okay.” She lifted her shaking hands. Her stomach felt hollow. The alcohol she’d consumed settled like a lump, and her head spun. Wildly.

  Lucas smoothed hair back from Angie’s sweaty face. “How did you do that?”

  “Long story,” Nessa said wearily.

  Bear stood and assisted Nessa to her feet. “Lucas? Get Angie somewhere safe for the night.”

  Weakness swept through Nessa, and her knees gave.

  Bear caught her before she hit the floor.

  “I’m fine. Just tired,” she mumbled, shaking her head to regain focus.

  “Right.” Bear lifted her, barely taking a step back as he took her weight.

  Her lips trembled into a smile. They were both weakened. “We need sleep and safety.” Neither one of them would win a fight at the moment.

  Bear nodded. “I want guards on full patrol all night, Lucas. We’ve had two bounty hunters on the property already today, and that can’t happen again.”

  “Understood.” Lucas bent and lifted Angie. “I’ll take her to my place above the second garage and keep an eye on her all night.”

  Bear strode out of the storage area into the now vacated clubhouse. Beer bottles and dirty glasses littered every surface. “Have somebody clean this up by morning. Apparently, we have several prospects now who can be put to work.”

  Was that irritation in his voice? Nessa looked up at his implacable face. No expression crossed his hard features, but his eyes glittered. “What’s wrong with prospective members?” she asked.

  “They are human.” Bear loped through the shambles to the four-wheeler outside. Cold wind swept against them. “We don’t have human members. It’s not smart.”

  Rain slashed down, and Nessa moved closer to Bear as he ignited the engine. “Feels like snow is coming,” she murmured.

  He tucked an arm around her waist. “I can smell winter. Should snow soon.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she tried to hide her face from the wind and rain. They were back at the cabin before she knew it. “I can walk.”

  “Not in those shoes.” He tugged her across his seat and stood, striding up the cabin steps.

  Her head lolled, and she rested her cheek against his bare shoulder. “You’re stronger already,” she said. His chest seemed wider.

  “Maybe.” He kicked open the door and then shut it behind them.

  The fire had died down but still lent a nice warmth to the small space. The scent of pine and male filled the air.

  He set her down, his eyes flaring.

  She glanced at her wet, white, and now very see-through shirt. Her breasts were clearly outlined and fully on display. “Might I borrow a shirt?” she asked.

  “I should say no.” He turned and moved for the dinged-up dresser to draw out a green jersey with a porcupine covering the back and a label of PONTSEY PORCUPINES above it. Holding the tee, he stalked toward her. “Take off the wet shirt.”

  Not a chance. She took the T-shirt from him. “Turn around.”

  “My shirt is off,” he rumbled, his cheek creasing.

  No kidding. His broad chest was hard to ignore, as were his ripped abs. But his ribs were still clearly visible, showing he’d lost weight. “Turn around, Bear,” she murmured.

  He rolled his eyes but did as she’d asked. “Where is your luggage, anyway?” he asked.

  “At the Five Winters Hotel in downtown Seattle,” she returned, removing her soggy wet shirt and pulling on Bear’s T-shirt. The soft material reached her thighs, so she pushed her skirt to the floor as well. With a sigh of pure relief, she kicked off her shoes. Ah. So much better. “What is a Pontsey Porcupine?” she asked.

  He turned back around. “It’s a local baseball team. Must’ve picked up the shirt at a game or something.” He moved past her to stoke the fire. “You lied to me.”

  She stiffened. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, you did.” He set the poker back in the metal holder and dusted his hands, pivoting. “Healing people hurts you. Saps your energy.”

  Oh. That lie. She faced him, searching for the right words. “I never said that healing people didn’t take energy. It does. The action takes a lot of energy, just like when somebody runs a marathon. I also said the action hurts.”

  “You said it barely hurts,” he said, standing with only a threadbare rug between them.

  The sofa sat to her right, and she fought the urge to move behind it. “So?”

  “So? I saw the pain in your eyes when you healed Angie. Felt the hurt in the air.” He rubbed the scruff on his jaw.

  She sighed. “The pain is temporary and not blinding. I mean, it’s not horrible.” The rubber band analogy had been fairly accurate. “’Tisn’t something you need to concern yourself about.”

  “I like your brogue,” he said abruptly.

  She was briefly thrown by the switch in topics. Her abdomen warmed. “Excuse me?”

  “Turns me on. All the way.”

  Her knees weakened. The direct and deliberate Bear was back. “Do most people fall for your simple act?” She tilted her head to the side.

  His lips twitched. “My simple act?”

  “Aye. The good-ole-boy, cranky, simple guy who uses small sentences. You know, that guy?” She’d been inside his skin, and there were complexities on top of complexities within Bear.

  “I am a cranky, simple guy who doesn’t see the need for many words.” He surveyed her, his gaze stopping on her bare feet. “How drunk are you?”

  She curled her toes into the wood floor. “Not very. Witches have high metabolisms, and I burned a lot of the booze when trying to heal Angie.”

  “You’re clearheaded?”

  “Aye.” What was his point?

  “Good. Then I can ask you a straight question.” His eyes were molten chocolate in the firelight.

  She swallowed. More questions about her motivations? Lovely. “All right.”

  “You wanna fuck?”

  * * *

  Bear liked catching the classy witch off balance. Her face flared a bright pink, and she actually took a step back. “Too direct for you?” he asked quietly, humor bubbling up through his chest.

  Spirit seethed in her eyes. “You’re not up for it.”

  “Wanna bet?” He tucked his thumbs in his damp jeans and studied her. Wearing his shirt, without her heels, she was petite and somehow all smooth, long leg. Her toenails had been painted an intriguing blue. He would’ve guessed a simple beige or light pink. But they were bright blue.

  The woman had many layers to her personality and a wild side. He just knew it. Yeah, he wanted to tap all that. Wanted to figure her out.

  She lifted her delicate chin. “We just met.” With her hair wet and curling down her back, she was pure temptation.

  He had never been a guy to ignore temptation. So he loped toward her, appreciating the fact that she remained in place. When he reached her, the scent of roses grabbed him around the neck and squeezed. “Who cares? You asked to mate me.” Which definitely was not going to happen. However, he’d still like some naked time with her. He brushed her hair away from her face, tangling his fingers in the heavy mass.

  Need shone in her eyes, but defiance flashed across her face. “I have to conserve my energy for healing you.”

  “I’d rather fuck.” Might as well give her the truth. She was the one who’d offered to mate him. “If you were serious about your plan, then don’t you want to see if we’re compatible?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m no’ worried about that.”

  He’d take tha
t as a compliment. “Your little plan has a couple of flaws, doesn’t it?”

  She blinked, her gaze turning wary. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Her throaty voice coated his skin and wandered right down to his balls.

  He shifted his weight. “Sure you do.” Her pretty pink lips all but invited him to take a bite. “Get here, mate me, get fire, and go. This might be a bit more complicated.”

  “You don’t know me,” she burst out.

  He twisted his wrist in her soft hair, effectively forcing her to lift her face. “I have no doubt there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” He leaned down, his lips hovering right over hers. “You know what I do know?”

  She breathed in sharply. “What?”

  “You want this.” Holding her in place, he lowered his mouth and took hers. There was something infinitely delicate about Nessa Lansa, but he’d already kissed her gently once. There was only so much softness in him, and it was gone. He’d never been that guy. From day one of his life, he’d fought hard for every single thing he had. Everything he owned.

  Fighting was what he knew. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting tequila and something that was all Nessa, something sweet with a tiny bite.

  She stilled for about two seconds and then kissed him back, her hands snaking over his shoulders. Her lips were soft and lush, and they felt shockingly good against his. A low moan rose in her throat.

  The sound. The soft sound clawed through him with the force of a heated storm. He deepened the kiss, taking what he wanted, asserting himself. Oh, he wouldn’t hurt her and he’d try for gentleness when he could, but she needed to know who he really was. What he really was. There was no changing him, so if she wanted a classy guy who got a manicure once in a while, she was looking in the wrong place.

  His free hand swept down her back and over her ass. If she wanted a ride on the wild side, she was in the right place. She pressed against him, and his mind went blank. Her soft body against his hardness stole his thoughts and banished any good intentions he might’ve drummed up.

  His fingers spread over her scalp, and he held her still, plundering even deeper. His heart sped up, and his blood pounded through his veins in a hard cadence. He could almost hear the drums—feel the animal inside him take over.

  Kissing her, he stood on a precipice. A new one. This was different.

  She was different.

  This was real.

  He growled low and lifted his mouth. “Tell me you want this.”

  Her eyelids opened, but her eyes remained unfocused. Her chest moved against his with each hard breath. A tremble took her, and he felt the full roll against his body. His entire body.

  Using his hold on her head, he moved her closer into him, his cock nearly punching through his jeans as it rubbed against her.

  Her eyes widened.

  His dick hardened even more.

  The primal need to take snaked through him, clawing with demand. His nostrils flared, and he inhaled her scent. Woman, roses, and arousal. Sweet and edgy . . . an addictive smell. “Nessa?”

  She swallowed. “Wait a minute. I, ah—”

  He was too aroused to grin, but he came close. The woman was beyond adorable, all mussed up and confused. “I normally don’t like witches,” he whispered, his gaze dropping to her slightly swollen lips. He groaned. What she could do with those.

  “Y-you don’t?”

  “No.” He could see her pulse hammering in her neck. “Too many secrets and long-held intrigue.” He shuddered. “But you’re different.”

  Did she wince? He focused on her entire face, but only curiosity and need crossed her expression. “I am?” she asked.

  He nodded. The woman had let her hair down and partied with some serious partiers. Then she’d jumped into action to rescue a human she’d just met. “Yes. You’re not like most witches.” There was an honesty to her, a clear sense of motivation, that most of those lying jerks didn’t have. Oh, he still didn’t want to mate a witch. But this one? This one he liked. “I was thinking that while you’re here healing me and organizing everything to your heart’s content, why not have some fun?”

  “By, ah, making love?”

  He barely kept from grimacing. “Not exactly.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Fine. Then by having sexual intercourse.”

  The words were said like she was reading from a health manual, but they still heated him right up. “Fucking.”

  Her blush rose from her chest to her face. He tugged on her shirt and tried to look down it.

  She slapped his hand. “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing if that blush goes all the way down.” He couldn’t see. It was too dark. “How about you take this off?”

  A sharp rap sounded on his door. “Bear?” Lucas called.

  “Damn it.” Bear released the woman and stomped over to yank the door open. “I might have to kill you, Luke.”

  Lucas brushed wet hair away from his forehead. “Guards called in. We have two dead near the main road.”

  Chapter 7

  “I really need to return to the hotel for my clothes,” Nessa said, once again on Bear’s lap in the four-wheeler. She was wearing Bear’s ripped gray sweats rolled up way too many times, a huge sweatshirt, and a pair of his thick socks. The idea of putting her feet back into those heels had almost made her cry.

  He set a baseball cap on her head, protecting her from the wind and rain. “You don’t have to come.”

  “I may be able to help if they’re not dead,” she said quietly.

  “They’re dead,” Lucas said, increasing speed. “Humans with burn marks around their mouths, noses, and ears. Oh, and hands.”

  Bear growled. “How the hell do we have people taking Apollo on our property? I banned the drug a year ago.”

  “I don’t know,” Lucas snapped. “With the human prospects, we’ve had a new group of folks in and out for parties.”

  “Why are there humans here at all?” Nessa asked.

  Bear nodded, his chin bumping her head. “Good question.”

  “Money,” Lucas said simply. “Our accounts are frozen, and we need income. The five prospects are excellent mechanics, and they’re bringing in a good income. I had to make them prospects to gain their agreement.”

  “What about Lars, Brinks, and Duncan? They’re the best mechanics around—except for me,” Bear said.

  Lucas cut him a hard look. “When the DEA started sniffing around so intently, Lars and Brinks headed for Alaska.”

  Bear winced.

  Nessa looked up at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “Lars and Brinks may have robbed a few banks back in the day,” Bear said quietly. “They need to lay low and keep off human radar for at least fifty more years.”

  “Oh.” She blinked against the rain. “What about, ah, Duncan?”

  “Haven’t seen him,” Lucas said, taking a turn down the asphalt toward what Nessa thought might be the main road. “He took off when you did, Bear.”

  Bear frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Duncan.”

  Nessa tried to think through the dossiers she’d read about Bear and his crew. The files were sparse because Bear had tried to stay off the radar himself for so long. But if she remembered right, Duncan was a three-hundred-year-old bear shifter who liked the quiet of the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps he’d just liked hanging out with Bear.

  Lucas turned the wheel and drove between two dripping pine trees and down a rocky trail. The prone human bodies came into view shortly, illuminated by the vehicle’s headlights. Lucas stopped the four-wheeler a mere foot from the bodies.

  The stench was nearly unbearable. Burned flesh and hair. Nessa coughed. Two human males lay on the ground, their clothes in tatters from flames. Scorch marks marred the bodies, and burns were everywhere. “Apollo,” she whispered.

  Bear stood. “Stay here.” He strode over to the bodies and dropped to his haunches. Lucas followed along but remained standing. Together, they just surveyed t
he carnage for a few moments. Bear reached out and felt the jugulars of both bodies, but his expression didn’t change. “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucas said. “I think they were guests at the party, but I don’t know who invited them.”

  A man dressed in all black moved out of the trees. “I found the bodies and called Lucas.” He shoved wild red hair away from his wide face.

  Bear stood and clasped the guy’s hand. “It’s good to see you, Trapper.”

  Trapper shook his hand. “Welcome back. You all healed?”

  Bear looked toward Nessa. “Not yet, but I will be.”

  Nessa could feel that stare to her core. He didn’t trust her, but he definitely wanted her. She’d had the feeling back at the cabin that he was perhaps starting to believe her story. Guilt put a lump in her throat.

  “How many people might know these guys were here tonight?” Bear asked grimly, turning back to Lucas.

  Lucas shrugged. “I don’t know.” He wiped rain off his face with both hands. “We just wanted to let off some steam with a party like we used to have. It’s been tough without you, Bear. I should’ve vetted the guests better.”

  “Not your fault,” Bear said. “I’m the one who took off.”

  Nessa made to get off the four-wheeler.

  Bear swung his gaze toward her. “Stay put, Ness.”

  She paused. Ness? Only her uncle called her that. Hearing the intimate nickname and seeing Bear so completely in charge stirred something in her. So she sat back to watch.

  Bear sighed. “All right. I’ve been out of the loop. Why is Apollo still a problem in Seattle?”

  Trapper wiped rain off his head. “After Titans of Fire broke up, things settled down for about two months. Then the last month, it’s like a new distributor has gotten seriously ambitious. There were five overdoses just last week. But we don’t know who’s behind it.”