Wicked Bite Page 7

Nessa leaned out of the vehicle. “How about witch deaths from Apollo?”

  Trapper stared down at the bodies. “Dunno. The witches usually keep that quiet, you know?”

  Aye, and she hadn’t heard anything; she would have if something had happened. But Bear didn’t know that, so the question was necessary. Aye. More guilt for her. “I see.” She settled back against the seat. The wind and rain whipped into her, but at least the cap protected her face.

  Bear shook his shaggy hair out. “Trapper, get some men here and take the bodies into a known drug area in Seattle, where the deaths won’t be questioned. Don’t get caught.” He looked toward Lucas. “Find out everything about them. Family, backgrounds, everything. And definitely who invited them to a Grizzly party.” He lifted his chin. “Anybody still back at headquarters?”

  Lucas nodded. “A few of the guys crashed in the rooms above the garages.”

  “Good. Call in and have somebody bring my truck, would you?” Bear asked.

  Lucas pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and texted something while Bear rolled the bodies over and took out their wallets. “Josh Lindon.” Bear flipped open the other wallet. “Rick Alton.”

  Nessa made a mental note to find out more about the deceased men. They were both dressed in jeans and dark shirts, one a Caucasian blond and one an African American with a shaved head. They appeared to be in their late twenties. Other than that, the burn marks covered any tattoos or scars.

  Lucas took the wallets. “What if people saw them at the party? Humans, I mean?”

  Bear shook his head. “Then we say that they left here before overdosing somewhere else. Hopefully, nobody will mention the Grizzlies.” His tone didn’t exactly sound hopeful.

  A lifted black truck, shiny and tricked out, came into view up the road. When it got close, a guy jumped out of the driver’s side and gave Bear a respectful nod. Bear strode over to Nessa and easily lifted her from the four-wheeler, carrying her through the rain to deposit her in the passenger side of the truck.

  “I’m getting used to you carrying me,” she murmured.

  He wiped rain off her cheeks, his gaze serious. “We’re not permanent, baby. It’s fun to tease you, and I definitely wanna see you naked, but a bear shifter and a witch don’t mix. I’m tired of messing around. That’s the truth.” He shut the door before she could respond.

  Her mouth opened and then abruptly closed. What in the bloody world? The shifter, the bear shifter, was actually rejecting her? Did he not know where shifters stood in the hierarchy of species? Waaaaaaay below witches. Way below. He was an animal. Her chest heated, and the skin on her shoulders pricked. How dare he?

  Several deep breaths later and she managed to subdue her temper while Bear continued talking to his men. She looked around. The truck was luxurious: new-smelling leather and heated seats. She flicked hers on high. A computer console took up most of the dash. If she had time, she’d make good use of it.

  She focused back on the oh-so-very-honest shifter just as he strode through the rain, a powerful man wearing a firm frown.

  He opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat, bringing the scent of rain and male with him. When he shut the door, an intimacy settled throughout the cab. He backed out of the trail and turned onto the private road, heading for the main road.

  “Where are we going?” Her voice was just a mite shrill.

  He glanced her way. In the dim light of the cab, with the rain pelting the windshield, he looked like the predator he was known to be. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

  Her eyebrows lifted almost to her hairline, and she forced them back down. “You did not. I’m fine.”

  He sighed, the sound weary. “We don’t mix, and you know it. Oh, we can have some fun, and I like our agreement—without the mating—but I wanted to be clear with you.”

  There would have been something honorable in that statement if it didn’t piss her off so much. Apparently the seriousness of the dead bodies had made Bear stop goofing around with her. “I understand holding out for happily-ever-after.” Kind of.

  He shook his head, and water sprayed. “I don’t believe in love and all that.”

  She stiffened. “Oh?”

  “Just don’t like witches.”

  She jolted.

  “Not you. I mean, I do like you.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, untangling it. “You’re sweet and kind. Honest.”

  “Okay?” All Saints, did he have her wrong.

  “But witches and bears don’t work well together. You guys have too many secrets, treaties, and hidden wars, you know? I mean, your own Council split apart recently, ordering hits on pretty much everybody. It took blowing up a Seattle motorcycle club, a fight to the death, and the Enforcers working together against your Council to set things right.”

  Well, since he put it that way. “It was an unfortunate series of events,” she said primly.

  “Huh. Seems normal for witches.” He kept his gaze on the road. “Bears are simple. This is us, everyone else is them, and that’s the end of it.”

  “We’re allies,” she retorted.

  “Now,” he shot back. “We’re allies today. Tomorrow, who knows? You might send a spy right into the Grizzly camp and decide to burn us all to a crisp.”

  There wasn’t a good answer to that, considering it was true. “I’m not desperate to mate, but you have to know, I may not be able to heal you completely without that bond.”

  “Just do your best, and time will take care of the rest,” he said easily, flicking the windshield wipers on stronger.

  He was her best chance to gain fire, but there was another alternative. If he wouldn’t help her, she’d go elsewhere after she’d healed him and concluded her investigation into Apollo and the Grizzlies. She needed the skill of throwing fire in order to survive, and she knew it. There were too many enemies coming for her. “I donna’ suppose you’d introduce me to your half brother?” she asked, her mind quickly sorting facts into logical columns.

  Bear glanced her way. “He’s a full-bred dragon.”

  “Exactly.” Though she’d have to finish the current case before she tried to fix her personal problems. “Fire, right?”

  Bear’s frown deepened. “You’re not mating my brother.”

  “Why not?” She turned to face him.

  “Because you and I are going to be intimate, and you know it.” He calmly turned back to the raging storm outside. His tone was both tired and absolute; the determination in it couldn’t be denied. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Protest all you want, but you know it’s gonna happen.”

  Now that was an ego. A huge bloody ego. “I think I can control myself, shifter.” It was only a couple of kisses. Sure, they were the best kisses of her life, but who said his brother couldn’t kiss as well? Maybe it was a family thing. She crossed her arms.

  Bear cut her a look. “I don’t appreciate the way you just said ‘shifter,’ baby. Lose the attitude or you’re gonna see how dangerous a pissed-off shifter can get.”

  In his current state, she could probably beat him senseless. The temptation to do so caught her off guard. She wasn’t bloody violent, damn it.

  He rolled to a stop at the end of the private road and turned the truck toward the city. “You’re welcome to stay here and heal me, Nessa. If you do, I’ll take care of the bounty hunters and whoever hired them to kidnap you. It’s a good deal. Take it.”

  She lifted her chin. “I still get to organize your office.”

  “You have OCD?”

  “Close enough.” She needed to get her hands on his records, and that was the easiest way to do it. Investigating people in plain sight was usually impossible. “And no more kisses. Period.” The tequila she’d downed earlier rolled in her stomach. Most of it had burned away, but just enough remained to make her feel slightly off.

  “I’ll agree to the organization but not to the kissing rule.”

  The city lights came into view. “You are unbelievable
. If I say you can’t kiss me, then you can’t.” She huffed back in her seat, wishing for her high-heeled shoes.

  “I won’t kiss you against your will, but you’ll have to tell me no in the moment.” The smile he flashed was full of dare. “We both know that won’t happen.”

  “You are such a jackass,” she returned, planting her feet on the dash. The wet socks made a squishing sound.

  Bear took in her feet and sighed. “This is my truck, darlin’.”

  “Speaking of which. Why is your cabin such a dump and your truck so nice?” She ran her fingers along the lush door.

  “This is my truck.” He frowned again at her feet. “Money should go into trucks and motorcycles. Not cabins.”

  Okay. They were certainly opposites. He had hurt her feelings with his rough rejection, and he’d just given her means to pay him back. The male would probably love to see his cabin spruced up a little with floral patterns and delicate furniture. “I see,” she said.

  He eyed her. “What are you planning?”

  Her eyes opened wide. “What do you mean?” Man, he read people well. She hadn’t even fully formed a plan, but so far it involved Internet shopping and interior decorating.

  Bear concentrated on driving through the city, finally reaching the high-end hotel.

  “You can just drop me off in front.” She smoothed down her hair.

  “I’ll valet park,” he returned, driving into the front vestibule.

  She forced a smile. “I’m not inviting you up.”

  “Yes, you are.” He stopped the truck by the valet station. “Per our agreement, I’m on your ass until you’re safe. That means, we stay in the same place.”

  She sucked in air to keep from belting him across the mouth.

  He grinned. “I’m thinking you’ll give me a good-night kiss.”

  Chapter 8

  Bear followed Nessa down the hotel hallway to the suite at the end.

  Her ass somehow swayed in the overlarge sweats, and she held her head high as if she had no concerns in the world. In his socks, without her traitorous heels, she didn’t even reach his chin. Man, she was small. What was it about the woman that made her seem so much taller?

  His boots left tracks in his wake. “Are you mad at me?” he asked, as she opened her door with a key card.

  “No,” she said shortly, flipping on the lights.

  The suite was luxurious, with fancy furniture. Bear admired the glittering Seattle skyline outside the full wall of windows. He stepped inside and was instantly transported to the first part of his childhood, when he didn’t belong and knew it every day. Yet she would be right at home surrounded by the comfort of wealth. “You’d like Fire Island.”

  She paused and turned, looking perfectly at ease in the opulent surroundings, despite her hand-me-down clothing. “Excuse me?”

  “Where the dragons live. Fire Island—off the coast of Ireland. Far from here.” Bear shut the door gingerly and toed off his thick boots in the tiled entryway. He might be a mutt, but he knew not to drag mud across white carpet. “It’s all gold and diamonds there.”

  She tilted her head to the side, her skin smooth and her eyes curious. “What makes you think I need gold or diamonds?”

  He snorted. “Come on.” Gesturing toward the sofa—no, settee—he forced a grin. “You belong in a place like this.” Man, she must’ve hated his cabin. He liked his place. Even though he could afford more, he didn’t want more.

  She looked around. “It’s a hotel suite.”

  “Yeah, it looks like the island.”

  “Did you grow up there?” she asked quietly.

  He shrugged, and his gut ached. “Just until my teens. Then I left and came to the States.” After his asshole of a father had died, he’d had to run. But he’d created a home for himself in the wilds of Washington.

  “By yourself?” she asked.

  “I prefer life by myself.” It was good to remind them both of that fact. They were in a hotel room, for Pete’s sake. He’d never taken a woman to a hotel without at least breaking the bed a little. Usually a lot.

  She frowned and pressed a hand to her stomach. “Are you hungry?”

  His stomach was growling before she finished her sentence. It was three in the morning, and he hadn’t eaten since returning to human form. “Starving.”

  She moved to a phone by a round inlaid table and ordered two steak dinners.

  “Three,” he mouthed.

  She added another order, along with several desserts, before hanging up. “They’ll send the food shortly. For now, I’m taking a hot shower.” She pointed down a hallway to what looked like a bedroom. “There’s the other room, and I think it has its own shower.”

  He hesitated.

  “What?”

  “I’m not hitting on you.” Especially since he’d just figured out that the witch probably did belong with somebody like his brother. The guy was loaded and liked the expensive stuff in life. Bear just didn’t care. “But I don’t think we should separate from each other while we’re in the city.”

  She pulled up the sagging sweats, looking way too cute. “You’ve been hitting on me since we met.”

  “I’m done.” Why did she have to look both adorable and sexy? Who else in the world could pull that off? He discreetly adjusted his jeans.

  Her pretty blue eyes narrowed. “Why?” Slowly, she looked around the plush suite. “Because of this place?”

  God. Was she gonna make him say it? Fine. “Yes. I just realized . . . you might have a shot with my brother. He has fire, and it’d work. And you have a lot in common.”

  She put her hands on her hips and the sweats fell down again. She yanked them up. “I’m not a snob. For God’s sake, Bear. I grew up in a thatched-roof cottage in the middle of rolling hills. I can sew my own clothes, and I can cook over an open fire.”

  “Then you became an expert bookkeeper and a member of the Council of the Coven Nine.” There was a lot more to the woman than she’d admitted. “You have political allies that might be the most powerful in the world. Don’t tell me for one second that you’re a dedicated accountant just living a quiet life.” How stupid did she think he was?

  “I never said that.”

  He warmed to the subject. “In fact, I’m thinking you’re one of the main number crunchers for the Council. Top of the political pyramid, are you?” Yeah, that made sense. It explained how she’d ended up on the Council. The woman was probably a billionaire who liked to be pampered.

  “I’m very good at my job,” she said primly. “Now, go take a shower.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone,” he growled.

  Her small nostrils flared. “We’re safe here. I’m registered under an alias, an untraceable one, and there’s no way anybody can find us. So go take your shower, and I’ll do the same.” She turned to storm off.

  He caught her easily around the bicep and turned her around.

  She grabbed the waistband of the sweats to keep them from falling. “What are you doing?”

  “Alias?” he asked, his mind spinning. Wait a minute. Why would she use a fake name?

  The color drained from her face. “I, ah—”

  “You knew,” he whispered. “You knew there were bounty hunters after you.” She opened her mouth, and he cut her off. “Don’t lie to me again. I mean it.” Betrayal burned down his throat. Fucking witches. They always lied and had an agenda. She’d brought danger onto his land without even thinking of giving him a heads-up. He released her so he wouldn’t shake some sense into her. “Tell me the fuckin’ truth.”

  She sighed. “You are so overreacting.”

  He growled low.

  She stepped back. Smart girl.

  “Now, Ness,” he ordered.

  She looked longingly toward double doors at the other side of the living area. Dark circles stood out beneath her eyes. “Fine. Yes, I did have knowledge of a possible bounty for my capture.”

  Even the way she strung the words together pissed
him off. “Continue.”

  “Would you just trust me that we’re safe for the night?”

  “I don’t trust an inch of you,” he said, his voice hoarse. Shit, he was hungry. Her scent wrapped around him, upping his tension. “Who is after you?” In her eyes, he saw the second she finally decided to give him the truth.

  “His name is George Flanders, and he’s one of the few healers I know of still alive today.” She bugged out her eyes. “Happy now? There’s the truth.” Her voice rose. “He’s one of the richest guys on the planet, and he thinks he can buy anything—everything.”

  Bear held up a hand. “Slow down. If he’s a healer, why does he want you?”

  She clapped her palm against her head.

  All right. When Little Miss Irish got tired, she got a little dramatic. Why he liked that about her, he’d never figure out. He sighed. “I’m tired, too.” But he wasn’t slow. Why would another healer want her? Wait a minute. Why would she want to mate Bear? Sure, the idea of her getting the ability to throw fire made sense, but since when had witches done things for just one reason? Their reasons were often multilayered and complex. “For Christ’s sake,” he muttered.

  “Exactly.” She nodded vigorously.

  “He wants to mate you. The two of you—healers. Just what kind of an offspring might you create?” Bear barely kept from swearing about witches again. They were all nuts, really. “You were a member of the Council. A guy just doesn’t put a bounty out on a member of the Council.”

  She sighed. “I’m not a member any longer, and I’m far away from home. This is the first chance he’s had to catch me alone and without protection.”

  As the accountant to the Coven Nine, she probably did have a decent protection detail, not only for her skills but for her knowledge.

  Bear’s shirt kept dripping on the carpet, but at this point he didn’t give a crap. “So the second you left safety, he put a bounty on your head.” The woman was batshit crazy for leaving the protection of the Guard or the Enforcers to seek him out with her harebrained scheme. “You said my sister asked you to come.”

  “She did.” Nessa’s eyes blazed. “Simone asked me to help to heal you. The mating idea was mine, and I might not have revealed that plan to her.”