Beauty Dates the Beast (11 page)

Damn it! My fingers gripped her arm and I dragged her toward the kitchen. “Come on,” I hissed.

The boards overhead creaked again, and whatever it was upstairs was heading in my direction.
Our
direction. In a few moments, it would turn the corner and come down the stairs.

Sara’s light frame made it easy for me to drag her along beside me.

“What are you doing—”

“Shhh!” I opened the pantry and shoved her in. “Don’t come out until I say it’s safe.”

“But—” Her eyes were wide, frightened.

“Just stay. Good dog!” I told her and shut the door.

The ceiling creaked overhead, loud, and I heard a heavy foot land on the top of the steps, then another.

I bolted around the small island and scrambled for the cutlery. Our big carving knife stuck out of the wooden knife-block, and I grabbed it, twisting the handle in my hands nervously.

The heavy feet continued to slowly stomp down the stairs, and I heard the scratch of claws
as they landed on the hardwood floor at the base of the stairwell.

It wasn’t human.

The urge to scream in fear was overwhelming, and I forced myself to concentrate. If it wasn’t human, it was probably fast. That meant I had to be ready.

A thick, rancid smell filled the air, and the knife suddenly didn’t feel like enough. Whatever it was, it smelled … horrible. Like three-day-old, rotting-in-the-sun roadkill. And through it all, that horrible, slick clicking of claws.

A low growl sounded through the house.

I crossed the room. I wouldn’t be able to outrun or outmuscle it, but I could at least lead it away from Sara.

Emerging from the kitchen, I saw a dark shape turn to face me from the other end of the hallway.

It wasn’t a wolf, which surprised me. It was like no shapeshifter I’d ever seen before. It was some sort of cat … thing. Thick, bulging muscles distorted its body under the taut, dirty fur. The teeth were distended in a contorted snarl, and the eyes were red. At the shoulder it was twice as high as any normal lion, nearly to my chin.

Shit, I was going to need a bigger knife.

As the creature started toward me, I backed into the kitchen and slammed the door shut. It crashed
into the door, which shook on its hinges. Gasping for breath, I darted to the island and yanked out my emergency drawer.

I pulled out a sharpened wooden stake and tossed it aside. Not a vampire. A cross, holy water, a mirror—all no good …

The doorframe rattled again, and I heard the sound of the wood splintering.

Hurry, hurry!
My fingers closed around the plastic baggy where I kept the wolfsbane—it was empty.
Shit.
I frantically reached to the back of the drawer … and found it: colloidal silver—liquid silver mixed with water. The perfect anti-shape-shifter potion.

The beast on the other side of the door snarled, then the entire doorframe shattered. The red eyes stared at me, and the creature opened its long-fanged mouth and let loose an unearthly scream.

I slammed the top of the long bottle against the counter and the neck shattered. The creature took two steps toward me, and I flung the contents of the bottle on it.

A thick splash struck the creature across the face. It screamed in pain, skidding to a halt and writhing on the floor. One of the big, clawed paws tore at its face, and the yellow teeth bared in a hideous grimace. Then the undulating muscles rippled, and when the creature stood to face me again,
my mouth went dry. Maybe colloidal silver didn’t stop this creature? …

It roared and burst out of the kitchen.

I grabbed my knife and followed it, skidding on the wet, dirty floor. A shard of glass bit into my foot, but I didn’t stop.

Glass crashed and the creature burst through the window in the living room, giving one more eerie, catlike scream as it disappeared into the night.

My breath escaped me in a whoosh.

Another window broke, this one in the foyer. My hand tightened on my knife again and I raised the blade, my eyes wild as another cat shifter burst into the living room. I threw the weapon at the creature. It dodged at the last moment, and my knife skidded across the carpet.

I took a panicked step backward, my eyes on the newcomer. Adrenaline blacked my vision, spots swimming at the edges of my sight. As I took another step backward something clicked, and I realized that the creature in front of me was a cougar, rapidly shifting back to human form. One of the Russells, maybe? Still watching over our house?

The cavalry had arrived. All the adrenaline rushed out of my body. Safe.

“Bathsheba!” Sara cried. I turned to her, scanning her to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were
glittering, her face wrinkling in the telltale sign that it was about to sprout a muzzle, and her arms were covered in thick, dark gray hair. Her feet were perilously close to the silver water, which would incapacitate her. “Sara! Get back! Don’t let them see you.”

“Forget about me,” she argued back, her words turning into a snarl as her teeth elongated and sharpened into canines. “Just don’t kill Beau!”

Beau? That threw even more panic into me, and I shoved Sara back into the pantry, ignoring her wolflike yelp. “Don’t come out until I’ve cleaned all this up,” I hissed, then bolted for the living room. I slipped on the wet silver spilled all over the kitchen and grasped the broken doorframe to keep my balance, then pushed into the foyer.

“Damn it, Bathsheba,” Beau snarled, eyes narrow as he looked me over. “Who were you going to stab with that knife?”

He was naked. Really naked. His wide shoulders were every bit as mouthwatering as I remembered, muscles clearly defining his lean frame. He had a fine six-pack and the most amazing hard ridge of flesh along his hip bones… .

“I ran out of silver,” I said blankly, still staring at his chest. It was remarkably perfect, without a hint of softness.

“Silver?”

“I … oh, yes,” I said, shaking myself free of the mesmerizing hold his abs had on me. “Don’t go in the kitchen. There’s silver water everywhere.”

He grabbed my wrist. To my surprise, he pushed me back against the wall, his hands grabbing my shoulders and running over my body in a fast check. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Answer me.”

Bewildered, I stared at him and tried to shove his hands away. “I’m fine—”

A low growl escaped his throat and he kissed me.

It was like being swallowed into the eye of a storm. All rational thought went out the window. His lips crushed mine, frantic and possessive. His tongue stroked against the seam of my mouth, demanding entrance and demanding my submission. It was glorious. I wanted more. I opened my mouth, my tongue seeking his. They touched briefly, then tangled. His tongue stroked along mine, lighting a series of flickering sensations along the rest of my body. Gasping noises emerged from my throat, followed by a possessive growl of his own. I needed this—oh, I needed this. His tongue was conquering, thrusting, dominating. God, his mouth tasted so sweet and …

I broke away from the kiss. Had I totally lost my head? Sara was here and turning into a wolf,
and Beau was going to scent her at any moment. I grasped at his arms, torn between the urge to leap into them again and the urge to fling him away from me. “Beau, how … what are you doing here?”

“Making sure that you’re safe,” he said, releasing my shoulders. Then he jerked me close to him again, his hands roaming over my body in a motion that I wasn’t sure was protective or possessive—but I liked it. His gaze met mine as he brushed his fingers against my cheek. “It’s a damn good thing, too. What were you thinking, confronting that creature?”

“What was I supposed to do?” I frowned at him.

“You and Sara should have run—”

I shook my head. “It would have chased us. This way I kept her safe.”

“While risking your own—”

I shoved at his shoulders, baring my teeth in fear and anger. “
My
sister,
my
responsibility. Not yours.”

“You could have been hurt,” he said in a softer voice. His eyes were smoky with desire, his body moving closer to my own. The look on his face could have melted butter. The press of his body against me told me Beau was really turned on by my protectiveness.

Flustered, I tried to change the subject. “Whatever
that thing was, it smelled putrid. Like it was dead.”

“It was a shifter of some sort,” Beau murmured, stroking my crunchy hair. “But not like any I’ve ever seen.”

“What do you mean?”

He was silent. What, was he afraid to divulge top-secret shifter stuff? Like I gave a crap. I punched his arm. “Tell me.”

“Ow. Careful. You have silver on your hands.” He pulled his shoulder away slightly, but his hands didn’t leave my body.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling my hands away.

“You can keep them on me,” he said against my mouth, and then grinned. “Just keep them above the waist.”

Distracted at the thought, I tried to concentrate. “The shifter … what was it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, then released me. “I need to make a few calls.”

Just like that? I swallowed my disappointment when he went into my living room and picked up the landline. My life had no room for a sexy, protective were-cougar, as much as I might have wanted otherwise.

When he greeted the person on the other end of the line, I tiptoed through the silver water toward the pantry, where I’d last left Sara. It was silent.

I opened the door, caught a hint of tail and shredded clothing. “Stay in there,” I whispered to her. “I’ll clean up the water and get rid of Beau.”

She gave a small whine of response as I closed the door. I mopped up the water and poured it down the sink, then disposed of the broken glass that littered the room. Once that was done, I left the kitchen to pull Beau away from Sara’s hiding spot while she was vulnerable.

He stood in the middle of the hallway, still buck naked, and oh boy, his ass was nice. I’d already seen it once, but it was equally mesmerizing on the second viewing. I admired his body as he talked on my phone, mentally caressing the breadth of his shoulders and the slim V of his hips as he talked. Just a hint of hair dusting his chest, and none on his back. That was nice. His buttocks were fascinating. Small, firm, and taut. I badly wanted to feel the smoothness of that muscled backside and clasped my hands, not trusting them to not reach for that wonderful bronzed flesh.

He finished the call and began another. “Ramsey? It’s me. I need you to come meet me.”

As Beau gave Ramsey my address, I realized what had been bothering me about his appearance and rescue. He’d sure gotten here fast. I glanced back in the kitchen, thinking of Sara and frowning. Something wasn’t adding up.

On a hunch, I tiptoed toward the broken window and peeked outside. No sign of the Viper in my driveway, but his clothes were strewn across my front yard. Wherever he’d come from, he’d walked. And considering how fast he’d gotten here, he must have been very close nearby.

I turned away from the window, managing to stay remarkably calm. “How did you get to my house so fast?”

He put the phone back into the cradle. His gray eyes bored into mine, challenging. “I was outside.”

“Why were you outside? I broke up with you.”

“And I came here to talk to you about that,” Beau said. “Because I know the timing is all wrong, and I don’t care. I wanted to see you again, so I decided to come talk to you, and then I smelled that thing. The same thing that I smelled in the cab, Bathsheba. I didn’t tell you then, because I didn’t want to worry you, but something unnatural is stalking you. Something that’s stronger than any supe I’ve run across and that likes the taste of blood.”

“I see,” I said in a soft voice, trembling. “You saved us. Thank you.”

“You looked like you were handling things just fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which really emphasized his nakedness. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“If I knew what it was, don’t you think I’d have taken care of it? Something is hunting you. Or Sara. Maybe both of you.”

I gave a tremulous laugh. “Maybe we should be asking if
you
have enemies.”

His expression remained grave, which made me shiver. The werewolves had Savannah because they wanted Sara. Maybe they wanted me as well? I knew that they couldn’t turn me into a wolf, but they didn’t know that.

A warm arm wrapped around my shoulder. I suddenly found my nose smooshed against Beau’s chest and he pulled me tight against him. “Come sit on the couch,” he said in a low, hypnotic voice. “I’ll go get Sara.”

My arms clamped around his waist and I pulled him against me. “She’s fine. She just needs a little time to recover and won’t appreciate us bothering her.” At his skeptical look, I laid my head on his shoulder. “Stay with me. Please.”

I was not above emotional manipulation to keep him away from my very wolfy sister.

“Don’t worry,” he said, keeping me pressed to his side as he steered us toward the couch. “Everything is going to be fine. Whatever it was is gone. I’ve called my clan in and they’re going to come help us.”

Us.
Not “you.” As if we were joined at the
hip already. It wouldn’t hurt to let him think we could still be together, and I huddled next to his naked body on the couch. My mind kept running through the events over and over, the growls, the horrible smell, fear for Sara, who must have been terrified, yet I couldn’t get to her as long as Beau was here and she was still a wolf… .

We sat on the couch for a long while. Beau stroked my hair and whispered small things to me, and I … liked it. There was something soothing about letting someone hold me and pet me as I fretted. Though I couldn’t tell Beau my problems, he knew I was upset and sought to make it better.

That was a new concept. Usually I was so busy holding the pieces together for Sara and me that I never got a chance to relax or let someone else shoulder the burden, even for a second.

It was an intoxicating feeling. It made me want things that I couldn’t have. I must have trembled again, for Beau pressed his lips to my tangled hair, hugging me closer. “I’m here, Bathsheba. You’re safe. I’ll take care of things.”