Skin Deep (15 page)

Cain couldn’t stop the snarl from leaving his throat as he looked down at the pathetic being before him.

“You like killing defenseless women for fun, ass fuck?”

A look of confusion passed across Luke’s face. “What? What are you talking about? No! I don’t! I’ve never hurt anyone, I swear! I swear to it.”

Cain turned away from the blubbering mess before him as anger multiplied like rabbits inside his body.
This is the man she would rather be with? This is the guy she fixed herself up for? This is the man she allowed to touch her freely. Him. Not me.
Cain roared at the ceiling before turning around. He launched his body at the man strapped in the chair.
“She’s been hurt before.”
The words spoken by Maryline were like knives chopping away at his soul.
But I would never hurt her.
The chair fell over backward and Cain landed on top of Luke, who cried out in pain. Cain’s vision blurred as he stared down at the man before him, letting his beast come to the fore. Giving over to what he so desperately wanted. To kill this man and anyone else who stood in his way.

“No.” The word reverberated in Cain’s skull as his half-changed body was hurled backward, skidding across the floor. “We need him. He could be the key in this whole investigation. We can’t have you eating your feelings. Got it?” said Blaise.

Cain let his anger ebb, sucking his animal back inside as he stared at the three faces towering over him.

“This jealousy shit. It ain’t a good look for you, bro.” Sparrc’s blue head bobbed as his chest shook with laughter.

“Fuck off. Seriously.” Cain jumped up and sent the other men backpedaling a couple of spaces.

“This is all your fault.” He targeted Ryder. His sergeant said nothing. His face was blank, emotionless like always. “You went against me. You let her go on that fucking date. You knew it wasn’t safe. You knew!”

“She wasn’t in danger. I knew nothing would hurt her.”

“You knew? Then how do you not know what this sick fuck did to her? You let him take her into his apartment where he …” Cain couldn’t even bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good, Cain.”

“Sacrifices?” Cain roared. His body tensed. “You did this on purpose? Who the fuck did this benefit?”

“Someone had to be bait. I just didn’t know her little boyfriend was what we were fishing for.”

“Fucking bait?” Cain’s tiger roared with anguish. The click of a gun being cocked next to his head stopped his movement.

“This whole situation is so fucked up. Sarge, could you seriously not say ridiculous shit to get kitty all riled up here? As if we don’t have enough fucking problems as it is.” Sparrc’s voice was filled with annoyance. Cain glanced at him and the tranquilizer gun he held.

“Seriously, though.” Blaise heaved a big sigh.

Cain growled.

“I’ll fucking tranq you, bro. You know I will,” warned Sparrc.

“Fuck off.” Cain turned and stomped toward the stairs.

Kiera paced back and forth over the threshold that led into the cellar of Cain’s townhouse. She’d heard the men come in, was helpless not to, with Cain’s loud footsteps and yelling. She’d been ready to run down there and stop him, but Ryder and the others assured her they would handle it.

It sounded like they had done as much, though she didn’t feel any better about it. Luke was a jerk and he had hurt her feelings, but that was all. He hadn’t injured her, at least not to the severity they were making it out to be. Weeks before she couldn’t even get a man to look at her. Now she had big brawny otherworldly men trying to solve her problems while adding even more to her plate.
I miss my old, empty plate.

She looked around the hallway. To her left at the other end of the hall was a large front door. Behind her was the staircase that led to the living area, and a little farther down the hall was the door to Cain’s room. A feeling of awareness skittered across her spine and she glanced over her shoulder to find Cain standing at the top of the basement stairs, his massive body tense and panting, as if he’d run a marathon. He wore a weary expression, like that of a man who’d seen too much, lived too long.
That’s an understatement.
She’d nearly forgotten the bit of information that Ryder had dropped on her. She’d asked about their ages, curious if she was right and Cain really was younger than her. Ryder had been reluctant at first, finally relenting the truth of Cain’s age, of all of their ages. Cain, who appeared to be the youngest, was the oldest and was a
Born
, a natural-born Were.

Cain took a step toward her, his green eyes dark as they roamed over her body. He didn’t say anything, but he moved. His steps were slow and cautious as he worked his way toward her. Each seemed calculated, though she couldn’t focus on his actions. Her gaze was ensnared by his, trapped like a mouse in a cage.

Once he reached her, she stood stock-still, even after he broke eye contact and circled her body. It was only when he was standing in front of her again that she released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. His sandalwood scent surrounded her, permeating every part of her. She trembled with desire.
How does he do this to me?

She watched him with anticipation, desperate to see what he would do next. His arms encircled her and pulled her body flush against his, molding them together.

Is he … hugging me?

His thick hand sank into her hair, pulling her neck back gently and forcing her eyes to stare up into his. His blond, ever-perfect hair had fallen forward to brush against her forehead as he leaned his face down to hers. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead, his cheek brushed against hers as he breathed in deeply against her neck.

A vicious snarl tore from his lips, making her jump back—with little success, since his thickly muscled arms encased her. “I can smell him all over you.” The words didn’t sound human as they permeated her brain, making her go limp in his arms.
Is he jealous?
A wave of excitement speared through her.

“Did he force you to … ?” His words trailed off as if he couldn’t bear to think them, much less say them out loud.

“No, he didn’t. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. What we were doing, it just got out of hand …” She stopped talking when she realized what that sounded like, what she knew he was hearing. His head snapped up, meeting her gaze with cold, unmoving eyes.

“You were fucking him?”

“What? No. I slapped—”

“You slapped him?” Was that a look of pride replacing the cold glare of Cain’s stare?

“Yeah, well, yeah. When things got out of hand, I did.”

The look of cold anger returned. “Tell me what he did to you.”

“Nothing. He did nothing. It was just a misunderstanding.”

“If it was a misunderstanding, then why did you slap him? Why is your shirt ripped?” Cain’s hand was still buried in her hair as he stared down at her, his tone demanding, sending anger drumming through her body. She had been so overcome with the happiness of seeing him, of the fact she’d finally made him jealous, that she had forgotten whom she was standing there with. The man who had hurt her repeatedly, who was now demanding she answer his questions, and to what end?
Will I never learn?

“Well, he didn’t sink so low as to try to make me his prostitute, if that’s what you’re asking.” Kiera could have sworn she saw a wave of regret pass over his features. She watched his jaw flex, as if he was biting his tongue, trying to figure out what he was going to say.

“I may be a son of a bitch, but I’m not a murderer like your little boyfriend.”

“A murderer? Luke?” Kiera snorted. He was a douchebag who deserved to be punched in the face a couple of times, but he wasn’t a murderer.

“Yes, Kiera. He’s a serial killer.”

Cain’s words shocked her.

“It’s true, Kiera. We’ve been in the middle of an investigation and we believe Luke is the killer.”

Kiera stood there in Cain’s arms, feeling dumbfounded.
Luke, a killer? No way.

“But, Kiera …”

She glanced up to look at Cain’s face.

“I want you to know I’m sorry. I—”

The ding of the doorbell cut his words off.

Cain released Kiera with a sigh and moved to the door, though nothing in the world could have prepared her for the sight that was awaiting them on the other side. The most beautiful woman she had ever seen was leaning against the doorframe, wearing nothing but a tiny two-piece swimsuit. Her hair was aqua colored and curled about her shoulders, hanging to her waist.

Kiera’s mouth went dry as a punch of lust nailed her in the gut.
What the hell? I’m not into women.

“Well, hey there, mister.” Her voice sounded like a sex chat line, throaty and deep, making Kiera’s body shiver all over. She glanced at Cain, who was sporting the look of a deer caught in headlights.

“Who’s here?” The clatter of footsteps from behind her had Kiera glancing over her shoulder to see two other men whom she now knew were named Blaise and Sparrc.
These people and their weird-ass names.
Their mother must have been seriously into those cheesy romance novels.

“Me, of course. Who else did you think it would be?” The blue-haired woman made her way past Cain, giving Kiera a better view.

Not only was she wearing a tiny sparkly swimsuit that barely covered the nipples of her full breasts, but a brown leather belt across her waist was covered in an array of weapons. A similar brown strap hung across her body, displaying an ample set of fierce-looking weapons as well.

“Wh-wh-wh-who—”

The goddess lookalike shook her head at Sparrc’s fumbling words.

“Didn’t the king tell you I’d be coming?” she asked as she ran a seductive hand over her smooth tan belly. Kiera was mesmerized by the sight.
What has gotten into me?

“You’re Ren Carter? Our commander from upstate?” Cain’s voice had Kiera’s gaze yanking over to look at him, only he didn’t look spellbound like the other two men. His normally tan complexion was suddenly ashen, a look of recognition on his face.

“Of course I am, baby. And hey, I remember
you
.” She let the last word roll off her tongue like sugar. “I see you survived.” She quirked a perfectly plucked blue brow.

Kiera watched Cain’s face pale even further.

“What about your daddy-o?”

Cain only shook his head, for once seeming to be speechless. Kiera’s heart pounded in her chest, everything inside her demanding she go to him. Hold him. Kiss his pain away.

“Too bad. You should have listened.” Ren flashed a set of white teeth before her violet gaze landed on Kiera, making her suck in a breath. “Ahh, now who do we have here?”

Cain moved so fast Kiera didn’t see him until he was firmly planted in front of her, having traveled the space of ten feet in less than half a second.

“Oooh, someone’s protective.”

“She’s mine, Maren.” His words sent a shiver of desperate longing down her spine.

Kiera heard the airy chuckle of her laugh. “No one calls me that anymore, silly. It’s just Ren now.” The woman moved to Cain’s left, putting her back to Kiera. The woman’s feet were adorned in an old style of brown leather sandal that weaved up her calves. A flash of silver revealed more weapons strapped near her feet.
Damn, this chick is prepared.

“Is somebody up there? Somebody help me, please! They’re holding me hostage down here!” Luke’s voice echoed up to them. Kiera started in surprise. She had already forgotten he was down there.

“Shut up.” Ryder’s monotone voice echoed after Luke’s.

“You have a prisoner?” Ren’s purple eyes lit up with an excitement that seemed unnatural. “I love to play with prisoners! Do you mind taking me down to meet him before we start on all the boring stuff?”

Blaise and Sparrc nodded, both of their mouths still gaping in wonder, as she laced her arms through each of theirs. Cain turned around, looking like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. He looked everywhere but at Kiera. Giving a firm nod, he followed the others into the basement, leaving Kiera alone.

The first light of morning touched the sky when Cain made his way to his bedroom. The night had dragged on with an agonizing slowness. They hadn’t let him rip Luke to fucking bits. They’d taken Ren down to the cellar and after about ten minutes of inflicting her type of torture—an elaborate lap dance punctuated with a swift kick to the crotch—she grew bored and finally asked why they had him down there.

“He’s responsible for the murders,” Cain blurted, ready to execute the motherfucker.

Ren’s only response was to snort in laughter. “This guy? He’s a human.” She looked at the four of them in the cellar. “Did you think this guy was
the
killer? The Amari Wereleopard leader? He reeks of middle-class, dead-end job. How much more human can you get?”

“He was hurting Kiera. We didn’t know what his involvement was, but he’s been pursuing Kiera pretty religiously lately. We also found some chocolate-covered cherries on the table. Our killer’s calling card.” Ryder’s voice was stiffer than normal. He leaned against the ratty plastic table Cain and the twins played beer pong on, his arms crossed over his chest. His solid black gaze focused on Luke, never straying to look at Ren.

“And he smells like he bathes in fucking grenadine,” Cain snarled.

“That’s what you’ve based this whole investigation on? The scent of a human’s cheap shampoo and a couple of fucking cherries?” When none of them responded, she shook her head in disbelief. “Well, fuck. Looks like the king wasn’t joking when he said you guys needed some help.”

The rest of the night was spent on the third floor—Ryder’s part of the house. It looked like NASA, covered from ceiling to floor in every kind of electronic gadget imaginable. They went over evidence, pictures, and watched Blaise do full autopsies on the body parts they’d collected from Mr. Porky’s. In between Blaise and Sparrc drooled over Ren, which only made time seem to drag on slower. Ryder and he were the only ones who seemed unaffected by her.

Cain was still in shock at her arrival. Ren was someone he’d never thought he would see again, a person who’d seen him in the darkest hour of his life. Eight hundred years hadn’t changed the Muse a bit. She was sex on two legs, though her hot little body hadn’t made him fire with want like the last time he’d seen her.
Weird.
Her presence pissed him off more than anything and when her gaze fell on Kiera, he had to fight the beast back for the hundredth time that night.

A Muse was a special form of Immortal, rare and hazardous. Said to be born directly of Zeus’s bloodline, each Muse carried the power of a base emotion that embodied them and oozed from every pore of their being. Ren’s power was lust.
Dangerous.

Last time he’d heard news of her was over a hundred years before, when a couple of Weres he’d met said they came across her somewhere in the north, living in the mountains with a harem of male and female lovers she’d enslaved.
Fuck that.
No one would be enslaving Kiera, unless it was him.

He couldn’t understand how she’d become their commander and Were representative of Maine. It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t a Were and, as far as he knew, Muses weren’t a species connected to the United Immortals, much less the Eternal Forces that backed them. There were hundreds of species involved with both, or at least factions of certain groups. Muses were practically unheard of. In fact, Ren was the only Muse he’d ever encountered in his long life.

All in all, the night was a bust. Luke was still alive. The dead girls were still fucking dead, and all they knew about their killer was a whole lot of nothing, besides he was a
chocolate-covered ginger killer.
At least that’s what Sparrc and he had dubbed the motherfucker when they were bored as hell, staring at pictures he knew would reveal nothing.

Relief hit his chest as he stood in the threshold of his room. Scanning the bed, he hoped to find Kiera there, but he wound up empty handed. His eyes fell to the lump of blankets on the floor, furthest from the door. He walked over and gazed down at her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful while she slept, with her deep red tresses fanned out about her head, her body wrapped in the thick white covers.

My covers.

Just looking at her made his cock harder than granite.
Fuck.
Is this what he had been reduced to? Hovering over a sleeping woman with a damned hard-on? A small part of his subconscious insisted he was better than that.

No, I’m not.

In a swift movement, he leaned forward and scooped her off the ground. Careful not to wake her, he deposited her on the bed and covered her up, though not before catching a glance of her body clad in tiny pajama shorts and a T-shirt. The motherfucker in his pants kicked like a rugby player.

He took a step back and looked at her lying comfortably in the middle of his big bed, snuggled deep under his blankets, and was startled by how right it felt.
My feorh.
His mind whispered the word even though he knew it wasn’t true.

He wanted nothing more than to get under the blankets and pull her perfect body against his … but he wouldn’t. For once he wouldn’t just take what he wanted, wouldn’t demand his due. He didn’t know what was going on with him, why he was so desperate to have her, but he would figure it out once the Amari shit was cleared up. Until then, he would keep his distance.

He glanced down and noticed a child-sized pink-and-white blanket on the floor. He picked it up, running his fingers over the flower-patterned squares. The yarn was frayed in multiple places and Cain could tell it was old. He looked at Kiera, then back at the little blanket. His heart thudded hard in his chest. These little squares of yarn were important to Kiera; she didn’t have to tell him that. He placed the blanket next to her head, careful not to disturb her.

Cain nearly laughed at himself as he stretched out on the floor that was still warm from Kiera’s body. He turned his nose against the white carpet and breathed in her rapidly fading scent, marveling at the feeling of contentment that swept over his body.

I go from not giving a shit to sniffing carpet like a damned drug addict. Go fucking figure.