Rage & Killian (12 page)

She stared at him. She didn’t want to know this. Any of this. Personal information. It made one weak and vulnerable to attack. She would never be weak again. Her stomach growled.

“Oh come on,” he said. “Your body’s in a state of revolt. This fried chicken’s delicious. And it’ll tide you over until something more human comes along.”

She sneered at him. “The only human I’m interested in eating is you.”

Rosalie didn’t realize how that sounded until the man’s mouth curved up into one of the sexiest smiles she’d ever seen. Then she wanted to just curl up in a ball and roll right off the porch.

But of course she didn’t. She lifted her chin and said arrogantly, “You know what I mean.”

His blue eyes flashed. “You’re scared to get too close to me.” He nodded. “Understandable.”

“No. That’s not it. At all.”

“You sure?” He smiled, then started making soft clucking sounds.

She shook her head and heaved a sigh. “You’re super annoying.”

Didn’t stop him from continuing on.

“Also, that’s really inappropriate when you’re actually eating the chicken.”

His grin only widened as he clucked.

“Oh, fine!” she heaved, walking over and grabbing a chicken leg off the table. “I’ll eat if you stop.”

He did, then patted the seat beside him. “Come on, Hunter. I won’t bite.”

“Of course you won’t,” she said, tearing into the chicken as she remained standing. She was starving. Hadn’t realized how starving until right that moment. “You’re a weak-blooded human.”

He tossed her the side-eye. “Who had you bound and on your back in under a minute.”

She glared at him.

He grinned. Again. “Can I ask you something, Kitten?”

“‘Hunter’ is fine.”

He pouted for one quick second, then said, “I understand the dislike of humans now that your world has been outed, and they’re filled with curiosity and fear. I understand the distrust. But your hate runs deep. Blood deep. Why?”

Her insides clenched. “Hand me that lemonade.”

He did, but didn’t let up on the questions. “Raphael alluded to something…something you’re going through.”

Rosalie reached for a biscuit, though her stomach was in knots. “You’re right. This food is good.”

He sniffed. “Okay. Got it. None of my business.”

Damn right it wasn’t. But not only that, she refused to go personal with this human. It was the first rule of guarding a prisoner, which he pretty much was. You don’t ask or answer anything that could make you vulnerable.

But as she finished off her biscuit, she broke that rule. “So, you grew up on a farm?”

“Yup,” he said, taking a bite of an apple. “Loved it. Open air, miles and miles of land. It was simple.”

“Sounds pretty perfect.”

He nodded. “Was.”

“So why did you leave?”
And head for Locke’s lab? Glory? Money?

“My parents passed away in an accident my senior year of high school. After I graduated, I just didn’t want to stay, you know? They were the only family I had, and it was lonely...”

Her heart squeezed a bit. Loss was really something they shared. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “I sold the place to a nice family. Then, I joined the army.”

Rosalie’s head came around so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. All softness and understanding gone, she stared at him. His jaw was tight, like he knew what he’d just said would be controversial.

Controversial? Try outrageous!

“You’re a solider?” she ground out, her appetite now gone. There it was. She’d only been guessing that he might be from one of Locke’s labs, but this… “Does Raphael know?”

“Yes.”

Shit. That’s why the leader had wanted this man to stay. Needed all the information. “Why did you come here? What do you want from Raphael? From us?”

He turned to look at her. His eyes were shuttered now. Back to the shark who was giving nothing away. “That’s between Raphael and myself. For now. If he wants someone to know, he’ll tell them.”

Someone
? “I’m not just someone.” She stood up. “You’re part of them,” she snarled. “Those bastards. Fuck you!” Goddess, her cat was pushing to get out. And she wanted to let it. Let the puma handle this. Let the puma handle everything. “We’re not helping you people create some hybrid monster for your battlefields.”

His eyes flashed with anger and his lips parted to retort. But before a word was uttered, he took stock in her demeanor. Her barely controlled demeanor. He was off the loveseat and at her side in an instant. “Are you all right?”

Fuck, she was shaking. Like a scared cub. Couldn’t stop herself. But she refused his touch. “Get away from me.”

“You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“No,
Human
,” she snarled at him. “I look like my puma is trying to get out and tear you to shreds.”

She expected him to step away. Hell, he should be running into the house and locking the door, if he was smart. But instead he courted death and did the most insane thing ever. He pulled her into his arms.

Rosalie stiffened, growled, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, pulling her even closer.

“Only if you have that rope again.” Something strange was happening. Her puma was suddenly nowhere to be found, and the female part of her was…breathless…

He laughed softly, his hand moving in slow circles on her back. “I’m not trying to contain you, Hunter. Just give you a bit of comfort.”

“I don’t need comfort,” she uttered, her tone strangled.

“I think you do.”

She cursed through her uneven breathing. “You are so…human.”

“Damn right I am.” He made a low sound in his throat, and the rumble went from his chest into hers. It was… Goddess, it was—

No!
No, this was wrong. Why wasn’t she pulling away? Biting his shoulder? Taking off his ear? Desperate for blood? Why were her nostrils flaring? And why were her lungs pulling in his scent as though they couldn’t bear to have anything else inside them?

The human was the first to pull back, release her. But he didn’t look happy about it. In fact, he looked confused and troubled.
Join the club.

His expression tight, he stared down at her. “Is the cat okay?”

Okay?
Goddess, nothing was okay. About this. About him. About her. And where was her cat? Her protection? The one thing that was always there to stomp out feelings and emotions and…attraction?

Rosalie gazed up into those deep blue eyes. Okay? The cat was more than okay. It was…quiet.

With a surge of deep fear and guilt, she pulled completely away from him and stalked over to the door. Held it open. “Time for bed, Human.”

One dark brow lifted over those ever-changing eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, after a few seconds, he went and gathered up all the food, then walked past her into the house.

“’Night, Hunter,” he said in a pensive tone that mirrored the feelings running through her.

After the door closed, she pressed back against it and tried to breathe normally again. But it was no use. Her throat felt tight now, scratchy. Her lungs didn’t seem to be making enough air. What was wrong with her? Why had she allowed herself to be touched…hugged? And why did she want to call that human back again right this very minute and tell him to call her…Rosalie?

Chapter 4

 “Stay away!” Tim Donohue shouted, barely visible in the rubble. “Fuck, O’Roarke!”

Exhausted, eyes burning, Killian dragged an unconscious Mac Fields another three feet out of the wrecked building, then left him with the others. One more. Just one more.

“
Stop!” Tim screamed at him. “Another one’s coming, man!”

Killian didn’t listen. You don’t leave a comrade. Never leave a comrade. Not even with the threat of an IED.

Something nicked his arm. Fuck! The sting. He’d been hit. Suddenly, rounds of gunfire broke out less than forty meters away. No cover. Shit!

His men. He had to get to his men.

He had to hunt. Hunt the enemy!

But Tim…

An incoming round zoomed past his head. Eyes right and left. Nowhere to take cover. No-fucking-where!

“
You gotta do this for me, man,” Tim yelled. “Tell my wife I love—”

The blast of the IED sent Killian flying back. He hit the ground hard, air stolen from his lungs, blood leaking from his arm. When he looked up, Tim’s head was down.

And he was silent.

A gasp woke Killian. Not his own. Or was it? Eyes open, he realized where he was and who he was on top of. Shaking, sweat coating his skin, he rolled off her instantly. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He lay there on his back, breathing hard, staring at the ceiling, remembering where the fuck he was, totally exposed to whatever Rosalie wanted to do to punish him for assaulting—

He blinked, shook the sleep—the nightmares—from his mind for a second, then… He turned his head to look at her. “Why are you in my room?”

He’d taken the smallest one, stripped down to his underwear and fallen asleep around midnight. Alone.

She was sitting up. Wearing sweats and a tight tank top, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. If he wasn’t kind of pissed off at her in that moment—and shit, coming down from another memory mind-fuck—he might consider running his fingers through that hair.

“You were yelling,” she said. “In your sleep. You sounded like someone was ripping your heart out. I was trying to wake you up.”

Oh, fuck
. She’d heard him…

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m surprised you came in.” He sort of half laughed, though in that moment it didn’t seem all that funny. “Isn’t ripping out my heart the very thing you’re trying to do?”

“No.”

“Only because you made a promise to your senior officer.”

“He’s not my senior officer.”

“Right. Your leader.
El Presidenté
.”

She didn’t say anything to that. In fact, she was way quieter than normal. Maybe he’d done more than yell. Maybe he’d said something…about combat or a mission. Or shit, his time in the lab. Well, he wasn’t getting into any of that. Not until he knew what Raphael was going to do, or offer him.

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine,” he said. “All intact.”

Her eyes ran over him. To check. Or maybe for another reason. Whatever it was, it made his gut clench, and shit below his waist fill with enough blood to be obvious.

“You can go,” he continued, not liking the idea of pitching a tent in front of her. “Back to your guard station.”

But she didn’t move. She sat there on the bed, looking all hot and sexy with her tight tank top, no bra, hair all wild and eyes that kept darting his way.

Yep, full hard-on now.

“Rosalie,” he began. “Sorry, Hunter—”

“I have nightmares, too.”

Killian stilled, not sure he’d heard her correctly. “What’s that?”

“Or I did have them…” she continued. She sighed. “They were a lot like that. Like yours. No words, just…” Her eyes lifted to meet his. “Pain.”

He stared at her, couldn’t believe she was sharing anything with him. Much less something so personal.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, Human—” she started.

“Killian.”

“Human,” she returned. “But I know real pain when I hear it.”

Shit. What was this? He really wanted to know. Wanted to ask. But he didn’t. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t tell him anyway. “So they’re gone?” he asked. “The nightmares?”

She nodded. “When I let my cat form take over. Sleep in it twenty-four/seven.”

But Raphael hadn’t wanted her in the cat form. Said she would kill him if she was. So… Killian sat up on one elbow. “But you can’t be in your cat form when you’re around me.”

Her eyes met his. “Really?”

“Why don’t you stop this, Hunter? Let someone else guard me. Go back to what you were doing. Go back to your puma and…sleep.” His eyes roamed over her beautiful but very guarded face. “That really made the dreams stop?”

She nodded.

With a sniff of derision, Killian mumbled under his breath, “Maybe I should give it a try.”

But she heard him. “Humans can only be human, Human.”

“Yeah, you’d think, wouldn’t you?” he ground out.

Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“Help,” he said.

“What kind? Immunity? Did you do something on the outside? Are you trying not to go back into combat? Do you know something about the military’s plans for the Pantera and our very unique and highly sought-after DNA?”

He remained silent.

Which pissed her off. Not like that was a hard thing. “You’re a soldier,” she snarled. “But you don’t know who Locke is. You’re a human, but you’re not a criminal or Raphael wouldn’t have let you—” She stopped, blinked at him. Killian could see her mind working, and it was fast and sharp. “When I came up on you and the rat in the bayou…I didn’t scent human right away. Only Pantera.”

“Is that right?” he said softly.

Her lips parted then, and she leaned in. All the way until the tip of her nose brushed his throat. Killian inhaled sharply. He didn’t know what she was pulling off him, but her scent was intoxicating. Like a rare flower, whose fragrance existed only for him. He growled at the ridiculous, romanticized, almost insane thought. But when her nose moved up to his jaw and her breath caressed his neck, he lost all brain function whatsoever. His hunger, his desire were on a level he’d never experienced before. An almost animalistic…

Fuck. No.

Slowly, she started to sniff him. His jaw, his ear, the corner of his mouth.

“What do you scent, Hunter?” he uttered in a voice he didn’t recognize.

She drew back a few inches, her eyes finding his. They were confused and anxious, and…hot. She bit her lower lip, giving his already hard cock another surge of blood, and whispered, “Pantera.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Killian’s hand stole around her head, fisting into her hair as he pulled her in for a kiss. The instant their mouths connected, he groaned. It was like having every fucking fantasy he’d ever had since puberty come to life. She was so warm, hungry, and proved the latter with her tongue when he turned his head and deepened their kiss. Christ, he’d never experienced anything so stunning. Like fireworks going off inside him. Constantly. Each one more perfect than the last.