Rhyannon Byrd - Primal Instinct 05 (22 page)

Stay cool. Calm. And whatever I do, I can’t let the
bastard rile me.

Kierland exhaled a rough breath of air, the predator
in him enraged by the presence of a rival male…while the man in him struggled
to make sense of the madness in his head. Finally, he locked his jaw, forcing
himself to turn around, and had to bite back a sharp snarl at the sight of
Granger sitting on the bed, another one of those crooked, mocking smiles
curving his mouth as he returned Kierland’s blistering stare.

The vamp sat with his back to the wooden headboard,
Morgan’s lean body draped across his wide chest, the side of her face resting
trustingly against his shoulder. In that moment, with jealousy and hatred and
raw aggression searing through his system, scraping him raw, Kierland could
have happily driven his fangs into the bastard’s throat without suffering a
single moment of regret.

He didn’t want to think about how good they looked
together. How right. But he couldn’t tear his gaze away, drawn to the sight of
them the way a person’s eyes were drawn to something horrible, like a roadside
accident. Their hair was nearly the same burnished brown, and though Morgan’s
eyes were closed, Kierland knew they were almost the identical shade of gray as
the vampire’s.

As he watched Granger run his hand over her silken
hair, cuddling her against his chest, it was painfully obvious to Kierland that
the vamp still wanted her. That he still cared.

Holding Kierland’s narrow stare, Granger spoke in a
deep, quiet voice. “You’re not going to tell them about the panic attacks, are
you?”

The question caught Kierland off guard, and it took
him a moment before he said, “Tell who?”

“The Consortium.”

He slowly shook his head. “No, I’m not going to tell
them. How often do they happen?”

“No idea,” the vampire admitted with a grimace, his
touch gentle as he looked down and pushed the stray strands of hair from
Morgan’s pale face. “She won’t tell me.”

Beginning to piece various fragments of the puzzle
together, Kierland asked, “Is it because of the panic attacks that she wants to
take the position on The Guard?”

A sharp nod, and Granger said, “She’s not going to
find the protection work nearly as exciting as what she does now, but she’s
looking forward to those wide-open spaces in Australia.”

“Why?” He ground out the question, stalking toward the
foot of the bed, unable to stand still. “I mean, why does she have the
attacks?”

The vampire slowly lifted his head, his expression
mocking as he held Kierland’s burning stare. “What makes you think I know?” he
asked in a laconic drawl, arching one of those dark brows again.

Kierland glared, a muscle ticking in his locked jaw,
and the vampire sighed, saying, “Even if I wanted to tell you, wolf, it’s not
my secret to share.”

“But she told you, didn’t she?” he demanded, digging
his fingers into the top edge of the footboard.

Another crooked smile, and the vampire conceded,
“Actually, she didn’t have much choice in the matter. I was determined to look
after her. To be her friend when she needed one.” A pause, and then he softly
added, “Unlike some people.”

The reins to Kierland’s control slipped a little
further out of his reach, and the wood of the footboard groaned as his fingers
tightened their grip. In a raw, stifled voice, he said, “At least she’s never
had to fuck me for my help.”

Instead of flinching at the crude accusation, Granger
lowered his head, a slight half smile curving his mouth as he pressed a tender
kiss to her smooth forehead. “Actually,” he murmured, “you’ve never helped her
at all. And I’ve always been willing to do anything Morgan wanted. All she’s
ever needed to do is ask.”

“Is that right?” he snarled, no longer even sounding
like a man.

Lifting his gaze, the vampire replied in a dry tone,
“I’m going to lead your ass across the Wasteland, aren’t I? I should think
that’s answer enough.”

“But when she came to you under the Consortium’s
orders, you didn’t turn her down, did you?”

Granger slid him a laughing look. “No sane man would,
I assure you. In fact, I’ve always wondered just where you found the willpower
to keep your hands off her. It made me especially curious ten years ago, in
light of the fact that you were so crazy about her.”

Kierland found it impossible to hide his involuntary
flinch, then realized that he really wasn’t all that surprised that Granger had
known how he’d felt about Morgan. It must have been obvious to anyone who had
seen them together.

Granger shifted his focus toward the delicate bite
wound on the side of Kierland’s throat, barely visible above the collar of his
dress shirt. “I’ll tell you this, though,” the Deschanel added, the low words
roughened with a deliberate note of warning. “She’s not always as tough as she
pretends to be. Morgan needs loyalty. Not some jackass who’s just going to use
her and then toss her aside like yesterday’s garbage.”

Shaking his head at the bastard’s audacity, he
snapped, “If that’s true, then why did you crush her by breaking things off
with her? She was in love with you, you son of a bitch.”

The vampire’s lashes lowered, concealing the look in
his eyes. “Considering how you’ve treated her for the past decade,” he
murmured, “I can’t help but wonder why you would even care.”

There was nothing that Kierland could say that
wouldn’t bury his ass ten feet into trouble, so he changed the subject. “Are
you really going to be able to do it?” he demanded in a gritty rasp, shoving
his hands back into his pockets. “Actually get us across the Wasteland? Or is
this just some macho ego crap you’ve fed to Morgan?”

Laughter danced in the vampire’s eyes, his smile cocky
as he said, “You really don’t like me, do you, wolf? Is it because of what I
had with Morgan?” Pulling her tighter against his chest, his voice lowered as
he continued, “Or is it because of what I have with her now?”

“Just answer the damn question.”

“I can do it. It won’t be pretty, but I can get you
across.”

For a moment, Kierland simply held Ashe’s stare. “You
screw this up,” he finally warned in a quiet voice, “and there won’t be
anything left of you when I’m finished.”

He turned then, heading for the door, unable to
stomach the sight of Morgan in the vampire’s arms for another moment. He’d just
pulled open the door, when Granger called out to him. “Just one more thing.”

Kierland looked over his shoulder, and in a soft
voice, the vampire said, “Hurt her, and I’ll have you gutted before you even
know what’s hit you.”

A slow, feral smile twisted the Lycan’s mouth. “I
can’t tell you how much I’d love to see you try,” he shot back.

Then he stalked out of the room, determined to find a
way to forget about the infuriating little Watchman wrapped up in his enemy’s
arms.

THE SLAMMING OF THE DOOR brought Morgan back to a
jarring, aching awareness, a low groan spilling from her lips as she lurched
upright into a sitting position.

“Easy there, sweetheart. You’ve had a helluva night.”

Despite the lingering pains from her fight with the
vampires, she managed a shaky smile. It was impossible not to love the sound of
Ashe’s voice, the husky blend of Eastern European and cultured British dazzling
her senses. “I’m okay now,” she told him, touched by the concern she could see
tightening his beautiful eyes, the shadow of a beard darkening his jaw only
accentuating his dangerous looks.

“You sure?” he pressed, using the sleeve of his
cashmere sweater to dab at her bloodied nose, and she nodded in response,
laying her cheek against his chest again. “What do you do when I’m not around?”
he asked, his touch gentle as he pushed her hair from her face.

With a stiff shrug of her shoulders, Morgan gave him
an honest answer. “I manage on my own.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he muttered, running his hand
down her back.

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be doing whatever it was
you were doing in that club tonight,” she argued.

His chest shook beneath her cheek with breathless
laughter, and Morgan could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Touché.”

“So, um, where’s Kierland?” she asked, trying to sound
casual, though she knew the intuitive vamp could read her too easily.

“If I had to guess,” Ashe rumbled, playing with the
ends of her hair, “I’d say he went downstairs to the bar after storming out of
here. The wolf definitely looked like he could use a drink. Or three.”

Groaning, she pulled back so that she could look him
in the face. “Did you fight with him?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, a lazy grin curving his lips.
“But I relish the opportunity.”

“Men,” she muttered, her eyes narrowing as she noticed
the dark shadows lurking beneath the vampire’s silver eyes. “What’s going on
with you, Ashe?”

“Just the usual,” he responded too quickly, his arms
locked in an easy hold around her waist. “Work’s been crazy. The Casus’s return
has caused every kind of madness. Seems like all the psychos and megalomaniacs
are coming out of the woodwork these days, eager for their slice of the power
pie. If the Consortium doesn’t wise up, it’s going to find itself toppled
before this thing is over.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Morgan frowned. “I’m
sure you’re right, but I think you’re involved in something that’s…more
personal to you than work. Or maybe to your family. When Kierland and I went to
Gideon’s apartment in Prague, someone had trashed it. Then I find you hanging
out with those creeps tonight at that club, doing God only knows what.”

She could see his brain working as he decided how much
to tell her, weighing it against how much to keep to himself, and then with a
tired sigh, he said, “Yeah, we’ve got some family troubles, but it’s nothing
that Gideon and I can’t handle.”

Watching him carefully, she asked, “Did you know that
Gideon is working with Kierland?”

He answered with a nod, saying, “Gid told me the last
time we talked.” His mouth twisted with a wry smile as he added, “I guess it
just goes to show that taste doesn’t always run in the family.”

She wanted to know if Kierland had told him why they’d
tracked him down, and Ashe told her that he had. “As grateful as I am for your help,
I want you to promise me that you won’t start any fights on this trip,” she
told him, her firm tone warning him that she meant business.

Curiosity smoldered in his eyes, but instead of giving
her the third degree about her relationship with the sexy Lycan, he just
grinned at her, stating, “You still love to boss me around, don’t you?”

“Promise me,” she persisted.

With a theatrical wince, he cursed under his breath.
“Come on, Morgan. That’s just cruel.”

“I mean it, Ashe.”

“All right,” he groaned, pulling a face. “I promise.
But you’re no fun, lady.”

“Tell me about it.” Sighing, Morgan leaned down,
pressing the side of her face against his chest, and smiled at the heavy
thumping of his heart—just one more thing that the human folklore had gotten so
wrong about Ashe’s species. “Was Kierland mad when he left?” she asked in a
quiet voice, remembering how the Lycan had looked when she’d instinctively
thrown herself into Ashe’s arms.

A low, rugged laugh, and he answered, “He glared at me
like he wanted to rip my head off, but he wasn’t mad at you, sweetheart. To be
honest, he seemed worried as hell every time he looked at you. As well as
confused.” A pause, and then he quietly continued, “I take it you haven’t told
him about what happened to you with the rogues.”

Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Morgan shook her
head. “I can’t,” she rasped, the husky words scratching her throat. “I don’t want
him to know about the past, Ashe.”

“Why not?” They were gentle words, without any
judgment or criticism, but she knew from past conversations that Ashe didn’t
agree with her.

“Because it wouldn’t make any difference now,” she
told him, thinking about the situation. There was something odd about
Kierland’s actions that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. If he was using
her to get back at Ashe, like she’d accused him of wanting to do before they’d
slept together, then why had the stubborn Lycan left her in the comfort of the
vampire’s arms? Why hadn’t he used the opportunity to create a scene?

Morgan was still mulling over the question, when Ashe
said, “So, you finally slept with him.”

Her body jolted with surprise, an unsettling mixture
of shock and hurt instantly ripping through her system as her brain zinged to
the logical conclusion. “He told you that?” she choked out.

“No, he didn’t say anything, honey. But…I can tell.”

A piercing wave of relief made her light-headed, and
she buried her face against his chest. “You’re crazy, Ashe. Especially if you
think I’m going anywhere near that subject with you.”

“You can’t lie to me, angel.” His hand moved to her
hair, stroking its length. There was nothing sexual in the soothing touch. It
was simply comfort…caring. “I know you too well.”