His Darkest Hunger (3 page)

The phone rang twice, before an automated voice announced that the number was no longer in service. He cursed and tossed the phone back into the com
partment. A sense of urgency stole over him, and he quickly set to work. After searching the body for ID and finding none, he dragged it down to a large pond and over to the remains of a beaver’s dam.

Wading into the water, he carried the body and shoved it deep inside the dam. He then drew more branches across the opening. Quickly, he ran back to the vehicle and drove it hard at the water, jumping off as it sailed into the dark depths, the engine carrying it all the way to the bottom.

After clearing all signs of struggle from the earth floor, his body once again claimed his jaguar form, and he took off, back toward Winterhaven.

Once he retrieved his clothes, Jaxon made his way back to the diner. He climbed up to the roof and down the fire escape that ran into the back alley. He stole through an open second floor window and took a moment to gather his senses to him. There were still police and investigators inside. He knew they’d be there for hours reconstructing the scene.

He needed to avoid them. He had no time to get involved in a shooting investigation. He had to leave this place immediately.

And he wasn’t going alone.

Jaxon looked around and realized he was in a bedroom. Not Libby’s. The scent that lingered on the tousled sheets was male and unwashed.

He quickly left the room, his footfalls soft and undetected by the young man who sat on a couch watching television while speaking to a friend on the phone. “Yeah, a freaking shooting, if you can believe it. That chick Maxine is dead and everyone else has been told to stay in their rooms. Guess the cops
will be asking me questions later. I won’t be able to make poker night.”

The young kid’s voice droned on, and faded into the distance as Jaxon left through the front door, passing within inches of him.

Once he was out in the hall, he noted that there were only two more apartments. The first one to his left smelled stale and empty, so he continued down the hall. He paused at the last door on his right, his fingers touching the handle, caressing the large brass knob softly.

He brought his fingers up to his nose, and the smell of Libby fell over and through him. His knees felt weak, for just a second, and he angrily kicked those particular feelings to the curb. She deserved nothing from him, and she’d get even less.

She had bought a few extra days on this earth. Until he knew what the hell was going on, the status quo would remain in effect.

His fingers reached for the handle, and he was surprised to find it turn sweetly as the door opened to him.

Yeah, he might as well make good use of those few extra days that he would allow her to breathe and live.

A few extra days Diego had never been given.

A few extra days to make her pay.

T
he door opened silently, swinging inward, and stopped just shy of hitting the wall.

Inside this space that she called home, Libby was everywhere, and nowhere. Her scent lingered in the air, tantalizing his nose, spreading dark emotions through his system as he slowly made his way into the tiny apartment. There was nothing here that appeared to belong to her.

She was a woman with less than nothing, and as he looked around the bleak living area, a picture of her was beginning to emerge that was far from the hellcat he remembered.

One more piece of the puzzle to figure out.

He moved deeper into the main room. It was narrow and the walls were gray, bare of pictures, with not one living plant to be seen.
Ferns.
She used to love ferns and huge blue hydrangeas.

A small tingle of
something
slithered through him
as his eyes continued to take in the depressing little room. The place she called home.

Alarm bells were beginning to clamor in his head, and a feeling of unease continued to gnaw at his belly. A hardcover book caught his eye. It had been thrown carelessly onto the threadbare sofa, which was literally the only piece of furniture in the room. His fingers trailed over the worn volume before he picked it up.

Unlocking the Mysteries of the Mind
.

The woman from
his
past loved reading gossip magazines and articles on home décor. Anything light to offset the grim reality of her job. Looking around once more, he shook his head as his body tensed. He wasn’t the only one who had changed in the last three years.

He moved toward a hall that led to the back of the apartment. He could smell her there. Her soft feminine scent was the one thing that hadn’t changed, and it became the singular constant in an otherwise bizarre evening.

Jaxon slipped into the room, silent and deadly, like the predator he was. His eyes automatically found her on the bed, where she lay, deathly pale, in a state of agitated sleep. She was faceup, her right arm curled to the side of her neck, the long graceful fingers entwined deep into the heavy blond waves that haloed her head. The other hand cradled her left side.

She looked like a fucking angel.

He quickly crossed to her side and leaned in close, sniffing her face and wrinkling his nose as a medicinal scent wafted toward him.

Fuck. She’d been drugged. What the hell had she taken?

As he continued to study her, he wanted to feel nothing. He wanted to be able to look at Libby as if she were nothing more than another target. But even he, cold bastard that he was, could not deny how shocked he was at finding her here, amidst this filth and in such a wasted condition.

Jaxon rubbed his temples, feeling a nasty headache begin to pull at his brain.

What comes around goes around.

Yeah, Libby had found some bad karma for sure, and as an image of Diego’s battered and bloody corpse lashed through his mind, he clenched his lips tightly together.

There was still a whole hell of a lot more to come her way, and he’d be the one dishing it out.

His timepiece beeped then, and with a start he realized he needed to get the hell out of Winterhaven. Within the next few hours the sniper he’d killed would be missed. And a secondary team would be sent to find him.

It would be a logical assumption that they’d start here. It was the first place he would look.

He needed to leave immediately.

His black eyes swept the bedroom, looking for anything he might need to bring along.

But even here he saw nothing. He searched the drawers in the rickety dresser, pulling out a few pieces of clothing and shoving it in a bag that lay on the floor near the window. Everything was in rough shape. In fact he’d hazard a guess that all of the clothes she owned were used. From what he could see, most were too large and well worn.

He glanced back at Libby, a frown sliding across his lips. She had been an incredibly beautiful, strong,
and assertive woman. When she entered a room, she wanted every single eye to be drawn to her. And they usually were, both male and female.

It used to drive him fucking crazy.

She moaned softly, her limbs twitching as she shifted position. The flash of pain that gripped her features had him crossing to her quickly, and his hand automatically went to smooth the thick mess of hair from her face.

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her.”

Jaxon froze, his eyes slowly rising until they met the intense blue ones of Pete.

The old man was now brandishing a gun, and at the moment it was aimed straight at his heart.

“You have some explaining to do. Starting with, who the hell are you, and how did you know Libby’s name? She can barely stand to talk to a customer, let alone have a heart-to-heart with a total stranger.”

Jaxon kept his composure. Pete might be old, and from the way he held the gun, not much of a hunter, but a gun was dangerous no matter who held it. “Put your weapon down, Pete. I’m not the enemy here. I came to save Libby.”

The lie slipped easily from his tongue, but left a bitter taste nonetheless. “This was no random shooting,” he went on. “Most definitely there was a gun for hire out there. He was a professional, I’d say military caliber, and there will be another to take his place before this night is done.”

The older gentleman held his own, refusing to lower the gun. He moved closer to Libby, and Jaxon felt his patience slipping. Time was running out. He needed to leave. But he remained calm and kept his anger in check. Now wouldn’t be a good time to
rattle the old man. He was much too close to Libby.

“Who are you?” Pete asked. “And how do you know Libby?”

“My name’s not important, but I can tell you I used to work with her, a long time ago. I haven’t seen her in almost three years.”

Pete held Jaxon’s gaze, his eyes narrowing. Clearly, the old man didn’t trust him. “You’re gonna have to do better than that. I’m thinking that it’s no coincidence you show up and my place gets shot up.”

Jaxon felt his anger begin to build, and it was getting harder for him to contain it. He kept his eyes on the old man and calmly walked toward the side of the window. He could see out, but hopefully no one would be able to see him.

He clenched his teeth as he observed a tall man, deep in shadow. The newcomer was nondescript, and was leaning against a van parked not far from the cordoned-off area in front of the diner. He could have been a curious citizen, but it was his very normalcy that shouted “Operative” to Jaxon.

He turned back to Pete and spoke with deadly calm. “Look, I know this is difficult for you to understand, and I don’t have time for a lengthy explanation.” He nodded toward the window. “There’s another operative out there waiting for a chance to take Libby out. I need to get her to safety.”

Pete hesitated, and Jaxon could see he was wavering. “Who are these people and what do they want with Libby?”

Jaxon’s voice was clipped as he answered, “That, I can’t say, but you can bet your ass my team will find out.”

His patience was running out and he didn’t want
to hurt the older gentleman, but the stakes were getting higher by the second. He knew that if he didn’t get his ass out of Winterhaven soon, things were going to get ugly.

Jaxon crossed to the bed and ignored the cocked gun that was still pointed at his head.

“I said don’t touch her.” Pete’s voice was wavering, and Jaxon’s temper began to boil.

“I am her only chance to survive this night,” he said, his voice hard and his deadly intent clear. “So I suggest you put the fucking gun down.”

Bending over the mattress, he carefully gathered Libby into his arms. Her form seemed to melt into his hard frame, and he felt his body quiver, flush with emotion and need.

Even though she was all angles, instead of softness and the curves he remembered, she still bit into that part of him that wanted to pound the pulp out of whoever had done this to her. It struck Jaxon as ironic, considering he’d come to Winterhaven with the sole purpose of ending her life.

His arms held her close, but a moan alerted him to the fact that he was hurting her, and he loosened his grip, remembering how she’d been favoring her left side.

He shook the thoughts from his mind almost as soon as they’d come. He didn’t have time to take a walk down memory lane. He didn’t have time to care.

He looked at the old man again and his eyes bored into him. “I need another exit. Is there a way to leave the diner that doesn’t involve the roof or the front?”

Still ignoring the gun, he plunged forward. “I need to get up to the ridge. My gear is stowed there.”

He waited, restraining himself as Pete weighed his options. He watched the old man walk to the window and peer out into the darkness. He must have seen the agent down in front because he turned back abruptly and sighed heavily. “I don’t like this one bit. But it seems as if I have no other choice.” His eyes softened as he looked at Libby. “Promise me you’ll take care of her. She’s had a rough go of it.”

Jaxon nodded and followed Pete out of the tiny apartment, cradling Libby in his arms. They made their way down a narrow hall until they reached another set of stairs that led down to the older man’s home. Once inside, they slipped down the steep, dark stairway and into a damp, musty basement.

“The set of stairs at the end leads outside,” Pete told him. “It’ll put you about fifty feet from the cordoned off area in front of my diner. Give me five minutes. I’ll see what I can do to get the area cleared.”

He began to head back the way they’d come, then turned back. “Promise you’ll let me know when she’s safe?”

Jaxon didn’t answer, not knowing what to say, and after a moment, Pete turned away again, slowly hiked up the stairs and disappeared.

Jaxon looked down at Libby, fighting the tenderness that threatened to overwhelm him. How could there still be feelings locked away inside of him? This woman had taken everything he’d given her and thrown it back in his face.

She’d betrayed the unit, and Diego had paid with his life. She deserved nothing from him. Angrily, he shook his head, and turned away from the an
gelic face that was tense even as she slumbered in his arms.

No, he would never show mercy where she was concerned.

Never.

A shout from outside brought his attention to the small basement window, and he peered through it. Some sort of disturbance had occurred. He could see Pete waving his arms wildly, and the police who were running toward the diner.

Jaxon sprang into action and leapt up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The large oak door didn’t open easily, and he shoved hard, welcoming the screech as the barely used hinges gave way.

Cool night air whistled through his lungs as he cautiously poked his head out. It was close to midnight now, and the soft glow cast by the moon misted eerily along the streets. To his right he could see the commotion abating, and that Pete had been successful, with less onlookers around than before.

Jaxon quickly scanned the area while scenting the air. There was no sign of the operative he’d spotted earlier, and the smell of danger didn’t grab at him. It was now or never.

He crept up the last steps and flattened his body to the side of the building, then slowly made his way around the corner, where he was out of sight. Pausing there, his eyes searched the grassy area directly in front of him, all the way up to the embankment several hundred yards away.

He still needed to gather his gear and head to his truck, which was parked a mile down the road.

He was just about to head out when Libby jerked
in his arms. And then she was struggling against him, her eyes still closed, as if caught in a nightmare. He tried to control her shaking body as he watched her eyes begin to flutter madly. The moans that had started low in her throat were now louder.

At the same time, the slithering feeling of danger slipped through his mind and he whipped his head around, listening intently.

Someone was there, around the corner and in the alley that ran behind the diner.

Libby was bucking wildly in his arms now, and he pulled her closer and did the only thing he could think of to keep her silent.

He brought his lips to hers, claiming her mouth, silencing the screams that erupted from deep within her body.

She stilled as his warmth enveloped her, and Jaxon felt her body tense even more. Her lips were soft against his, and as her scent lingered along the lines of his nasal cavity, he felt an incredible rush of emotion. The beast inside clawed at him, wanting out.

Wanting to claim what he still considered to be his.

He pulled her in even closer. He opened his mouth fully, assaulting the softness of hers with his hard, lashing tongue.

He was angry.

Mad as hell that she could still make him want, could still make him feel.

As desire raged through his body, it settled heavily between his legs, and his cock sprang to life, straining against the confines of the khaki pants he wore.

He deepened the kiss, tugging on her lip. The
taste and the feel of her cut him to the bone. He felt his insides liquefy as her intoxicating scent washed over him. It was enough to drive him crazy.

Enough to drive him over the edge
.

His arms had become hard, unyielding bands of steel, and he suddenly became aware of her whimpering against his mouth. The taste of salt mingled with the headiness that was her mouth, and he realized she was crying.

Jaxon inhaled deeply before pulling away, shocked to see the eyes that had haunted him, night after night, were open now, and staring, full of terror.

“Please.” She could barely speak, but managed to whisper, “Please, don’t hurt me.”

His eyes held hers, and for the second time in this crazy night, everything faded away. He could see the pain and confusion so clearly it was like a fucking billboard. It was a face that would melt almost any man’s heart. But he wasn’t just any man. He was a jaguar, and she was still his enemy. He leaned in close to her, ignoring the way she shrank from him, and whispered, “Move or make a noise, and I promise you will regret it.”