Howl for It (20 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Shelly; Eden Laurenston

BOOK: Howl for It
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He’d buried his share of enemies out there. Vegas could be vicious. Only the strong survived. The weak . . .
They fed the animals in the desert.
He circled around her and headed toward the fridge. Gage grabbed a small bottle of water and drained it in just a few gulps.
The wooden floor creaked beneath Kayla’s feet. “So . . . you really knew who I was, the whole time?”
He sat the bottle aside and turned back to her. “Yeah, I did.”
Her chin was still up, but he saw the move for the defense that it was more than anything else. “Then why marry me?” Kayla asked.
Wasn’t that the big old million dollar freaking question? “I didn’t do it because my
boss
told me to.” The jab burst from him. He didn’t have a boss. Others jumped when he crooked his finger.
Kayla flinched. “That wasn’t why I married you.”
Did he look stupid? Was he supposed to buy her BS because she was good in bed?
Very good.
“How many?” He gritted and his claws were ripping from his fingertips. Faint lines of red bled into his vision. The wolf inside wanted
out.
“How many what?” She fired right back as her brows rose and her small fists went to her hips.
“How many men have you screwed for the sake of your cause?” He’d like to kill them all. Every single one. Slowly. Painfully. The wolf was good at giving pain. “In order to get close, how many times did you strip and—”
She moved fast for a human. No wonder she was such a good hunter. In two seconds, she was across the room. Her index finger jabbed into his chest. “Watch it, wolf, or you’ll make me lose my temper.”
Right. Cause that was scary. Last week, he’d beheaded a four-hundred-year-old Born vampire. So compared to him, a curvy brunette was oh-so-terrifying.
He lifted his claws and let them skate down her cheek. “Don’t make me lose mine.” His threat was lethal. Or it should have been, but it was complete bullshit. He’d never use his claws on her. He’d already seen the marks on her beautiful skin. When they’d made love, he’d felt her scars.
Other wolves had sliced her sweet flesh. He never would.
Her breath stilled on a rasp, but she met his gaze. No fear showed on her face. She should have been terrified. Instead, her lips tightened, and she gritted out, “None, okay? There haven’t been any others.”
Wait . . .
none?
“Despite what you think . . .” She jabbed him again with that finger. “I’m not a whore. I don’t sleep with men just because of my job.” Then she whirled away.
I hurt her.
Her shoulders were up, her back straight, and Gage felt like shit. But he still asked, “So what made me different?” As a hunter, she should have been repulsed by him. All the other hunters he’d met sure had been.
Hunters.
Humans who’d learned the supernatural secrets and were out to keep the world safe—by getting rid of said supernaturals.
They were as vicious as any shifter, as ruthless as the vamps, and as conniving as the demons. In short, hunters could be damn near perfect at killing.
Unless you found their weak spot.
His gaze drifted over Kayla’s body.
Hello, weak spot.
“Maybe I wanted you,” she said, not glancing back at him, but striding nice and slow toward the opposite wall.
Good thing she wasn’t looking or she would have seen his shock.
“Sometimes, you want something so badly . . .”—her voice dropped now, but because of his enhanced hearing, he had no trouble making out her words—“that you’ll do
anything
to get what you want.”
He knew that feeling. Hell, he was
looking
at the thing he wanted most.
Enough to risk the pack.
She turned to face him and her features were a blank mask. “So, no,” she said, “I didn’t
screw
you for the job. I did that part all for myself. Because I wanted to be with you.” Kayla shook her head. “Sometimes, I make dumb choices. Sue me.”
He’d rather screw her again. And again. But they’d get to that fun task soon enough.
“What’s your excuse?” Kayla wanted to know as one dark eyebrow rose. “So you tagged me as a hunter day one, fine, I get that. Go you. But why keep pretending? Why do the whole courting bit? Why marry me?”
Was she really that blind? Had to be. Otherwise she’d realize she was the one who held all the real power. “Poor little hunter.” He shook his head and tried to look like he felt sorry for her. “What happened to make you this way?”
Her other eyebrow arched, and a faint line appeared between her brows.
“So untrusting . . .” He continued slowly, softly, and the memory of her scars beneath his mouth flashed through him.
Poor little hunter . . .
“You’re a
werewolf,
of course, I don’t trust—”
“Wolf shifter,” Gage corrected as he cleared his throat. She knew the distinction. Calling him a werewolf was just insulting. “The moon doesn’t make me howl. I do that, whenever I want.” Nothing controlled him. No one. Werewolves were monsters made up by Hollywood. He was the real deal.
“And you do whatever you want, right?” she snapped. Her hands were fisted. Someone was feeling all feisty. Good. He didn’t like her emotionless mask.
“Yes,” he told her clearly, “I do.” That was the benefit of being alpha.
“No matter who you hurt.”
Ah, now she was getting personal. “I’ve never physically hurt you.” Wouldn’t. He protected those who fell under his charge and he’d
never
attacked an innocent. No matter what the supernatural rumor mill might say.
But other wolf shifters weren’t like him. There were some psychotic bastards running around loose in the world. He knew it, and the scars on Kayla’s body said she knew it, too. Of all the shifters, the wolves were the ones who danced the closest to the edge of insanity. Their beasts were just too strong to always be controlled by the men and women who carried them.
Wolf shifters needed a pack to hold them in check. To provide them with security.
That
was why he’d started the Vegas pack. Someone strong had needed to come in and take over, and the wolves—hell, yes, they’d needed to band together. No one wanted to start a bloodbath. No one wanted to turn feral.
But sometimes, no matter what you wanted, the beast could still take over. He thought of Kayla’s scars again. The lightly raised flesh on the curve of her hip and on her shoulder. The narrow lines that slid down beside her spine. Someone had hurt her badly. From the looks of those scars, the wounds had occurred long ago.
When she’d just been a kid.
“In the dark . . .” he said, and tried to keep his voice emotionless. A hard task, when so many emotions wanted to break free. “All monsters aren’t the same.” She should know that. Good and evil didn’t really exist. The lines were too blurred for that vague distinction in the paranormal world.
Her lashes lowered to shield her gaze. “I know. That’s why you don’t have a silver knife in your heart.”
Bloodthirsty little vixen. He’d known she’d make the perfect alpha female. You had to be willing to fight to the end in order to be an alpha.
Kayla was a fighter.
“You were the wrong bait,” he said simply. The words were the truth. “Your bastard of a boss should have been brave enough to come after me himself.” Instead of hiding in the shadows and slowly picking off the paranormals who crossed his path.
Instead of taking my wolves.
Two wolves gone. He’d better get them back.
Now that he had Kayla with him . . . it was gonna be his turn to use her as bait. He sighed, and with a genuine trace of regret, told her, “I’m sorry.”
Her lashes lifted and she frowned at him. “For what? Kidnapping me? Bringing me to this rundown shack?”
Hardly. Those were just the start of his sins. Gage waved them away with a negligent flick of his fingers. “For what’s coming.” Then he took her chin in his hand, and kept his touch featherlight. He could already hear the approach of vehicles outside. The others had come much faster than he’d anticipated.
Gage had thought that he’d have at least another hour. But, no, the guests had arrived too soon.
They shouldn’t have gotten to the scene so quickly, not unless . . .
His hands swept down Kayla’s body.
Idiot.
He should have realized the truth sooner. She’d come far too willingly. He’d thought she was just changing her mind about him. That she wanted to escape with him.
But she’d still been setting him up.
His hand slid under her shirt.
She slapped at him. “
Now
isn’t the time to—”
“You’ve got a tracker on you.” Shit. Shit,
shit.
And all those scars that pissed him off—one of them could easily have been left on her flesh when a tracking device was implanted. Hunters often used those devices, he knew that. But he’d been thinking with his dick, not his head.
Should have checked her.
He should have sliced beneath her skin and checked like he would have with any other hunter.
Only she wasn’t any other hunter. She was . . . Kayla.
Mine.
As he patted her down, her eyes widened, then she gave a slow, negative shake of her head. “Stop the frisking routine, okay? I don’t have a tracker.” Her words rushed out quickly.
But would she even know if she’d been tagged? Or would her boss want to keep his secret watch on her and all his other hunters? “You chose the wrong side for this fight.”
She swallowed. Her lips trembled a bit but she said, “I chose the only side I could.”
Those cars were coming closer. He could hear the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. Either she was tagged for tracking. . . or the dark suspicion that he’d had for weeks was true.
If Kayla didn’t have a tracker on her, then he could have a traitor in the pack. Because he had
not
been followed from Vegas. He’d made sure of that fact.
“When your team comes, what will you do?” His claws were pushing through his fingertips. “Go running back to them?”
Her gaze stayed locked on his. “I’m not going back.”
Well, well . . . Exactly what he wanted to hear, but Gage didn’t let his expression alter. “Good.” Then, since she deserved to know, he added, “Because I wasn’t giving you up.” Just so they were clear.
Her lips parted in surprise.
Time was running out. Those vehicles would be braking any minute. Before the hunters came storming in, he wanted his taste to be on her, wanted her taste on
his
lips. So Gage stepped forward and pulled her close. His head dipped toward her, and he kissed her with the wild need that pounded through him.
What they had, it wasn’t about hunter and prey. It was man and woman. Lust. Need. A desire that couldn’t be satisfied, not with just one night.
Maybe not even with a thousand nights.
“We’re just getting started,” he promised against her lips.
His.
His wife, his for-fucking-ever.
Just let the hunters try to take her. He was more than ready to rip them apart.
And they
were
coming. So big. So tough. So stupidly sure of themselves.
Pity. This time, he’d used the bait—and they were the ones running into a trap.
Another kiss. Another slow lick of his lips over hers. Then Gage pushed her back. Away from the cabin’s door and windows. “Scream for me,” he said.
She didn’t speak.
She liked to make things hard. That was his Kayla.
“Scream,” he said again and lifted his claws. He had to transform before the hunters entered the cabin. During those few moments that it took to shift, he was vulnerable. Open for their attack. He wouldn’t be vulnerable before them.
But once he was in his full wolf form . . .
Ready for hell, hunters?
He smiled and knew that his growing fangs would show. “Your scream will distract them when they rush inside. They’ll want to help you.” While he had the chance to attack them. “Time to pick your side, wife.”
Then the fire of the change swept through him. A white-hot explosion of pain as his bones broke, reshaped, as his muscles stretched and his body contorted. Fur burst along his flesh. His hands became paws. His body hit the floor, and when he opened his mouth again, the growl of a beast broke from his lips.
His gaze found Kayla’s. She stood where he’d left her, against the wall. Her eyes were on his. Wide. Deep. Afraid?
Another growl came from him as he took a step toward her. He could smell her fear. A hunter, afraid of the prey she’d deliberately sought out. What the hell?
She could handle him as a man, but his beast made her shake.
A normal reaction for most humans, but Kayla was far from normal. He’d find out the rest of her secrets. He had to.

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