Unleashed (8 page)

The ominous flow of hostile energy was directed straight at Samantha.

He quickly scanned the room, searching for the source. The crowd, filled with undulating bodies flailing to the music, writhed wildly around them. His sharp gaze flew around the room frantically.

There.

He spotted a man staring at them from across the room. He stood completely still amid the sweaty, thrashing crowd. At first glance he was rather bland looking, the kind of man who could easily be overlooked and blend into the walls. He was of average height with blond hair and dark beady eyes set in a hard, unsmiling face. His gaze remained locked intensely on Samantha. Malcolm's defenses went up immediately. He put his arm protectively around Samantha's waist. Possessively, he pulled her to him.

Malcolm reached out with his mind to get a reading on this man. Samantha was exceptionally pretty, so he couldn't really blame him for staring. Virtually all of the men in the restaurant had noticed her, although she was completely oblivious to it. This man, however, wasn't just staring at her, he was clocking her every move.

He was tracking her.

Malcolm's eyes narrowed, and he focused all of his energy on him. He reached out to the mind of this stranger and was stunned to hit a mental block. As soon as he touched the unexpected barrier, the man's eyes flew to Malcolm's.

Malcolm's eyes widened in shock, and his gut tightened. This man, whoever he was, obviously had psychic abilities and noticed when Malcolm tried to touch his mind. He glanced at Samantha, but she seemed blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked in the crowd. When he looked back up, the man was gone. He cursed under his breath and pulled her closer to his side. Malcolm wanted to get her the hell out of there. If they hadn't been surrounded by so many humans he would've used whatever strength he had left to materialize them back to the house.

Samantha almost stopped breathing when Malcolm wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her against him and took note of the way her body, soft and pliant, molded so easily against his.

“We have to go,” he whispered.

She put her hand on his shoulder to ask him what the problem was. Before she could say anything, he took her hand, navigated the crowd, and pulled her out through the patio to the beach. As they emerged from the loud, sweaty throng, Sam pulled back on his hand. “Whoa. Easy there killer. I'm gonna need that arm for later.” She removed her hand from Malcolm's grip as he continued scanning the beach.

“I'm sorry. I just got a little overwhelmed by the mob and the noise.” He looked past her toward the restaurant. “It's getting late,” he whispered. “I think perhaps I should take you home.”

“Right.” Sam tried to hide her disappointment. “Nonie's probably waiting up.”

She turned to go back to the car, but Malcolm grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. His fear for her safety fueled his passion for her. He needed to keep her safe, to keep her with him. His mouth took possession of hers with a fiery intensity that took them both by surprise. The kiss was hard and hot, his tongue demanding entrance. She opened and welcomed him into the dark, velvety warmth of her mouth. He held her close, and his hands tangled in her long hair. He tilted her head back, deepening the kiss.

Samantha had heard about kisses like this from friends. She had seen it in the movies, but she had
never
experienced it, until now. She reached up and put her arms around his neck. Her body melted against him. She never wanted this kiss to end. She felt like a woman who'd finally gotten water after being stranded in the desert. He tasted like wine and lust, and she was drunk from it.

They stood there in the sand. Lips mating, tongues mingling, Samantha could feel his body responding to her, and it made her want him even more. She was drowning in desire. Desire that was going way too fast. She felt herself spiraling out of control. She pulled herself back, both of them breathing heavily, their mouths inches apart, her lips swollen from his kisses. She looked up and found herself looking into a familiar pair of glowing yellow eyes. She took an involuntary step backward and felt the cold hand of fear crawl up her spine. “Your eyes,” she stammered breathlessly.

Malcolm blinked quickly, returning them to normal. “I must admit, I'm surprised that's the body part you're preoccupied with.” His smile was sexy. He reached out to pull her back, trying to hold onto the moment they'd just shared.

Samantha stared at him through confused eyes. “I think you're right.” She touched her lips, still tingling. “I think you should take me home now.” She began to walk quickly to the parking lot.

“As you wish.” His body was still pulsing from her touch. He followed her, reluctantly, and gave one last look around to be sure there was no sign of the stranger.

They rode back to the house in a heavy silence. Her bewilderment vibrated around them both and tripped up his spine. He scolded himself. He'd been so caught up in his passion for her, so terrified by the thought of losing her, that he completely forgot to keep his eyes from shifting. His eyes instinctively shifted to their animal form, a symptom of his desire.

She broke the silence as they pulled up the gravel driveway of her home. “Malcolm, who was that man you were talking to on the balcony this afternoon?”

“You mean Davis.” He hoped that may satisfy her curiosity, but knew it wouldn't.

“No. You know exactly who I mean,” she said with steady resolve. “The tall guy with long dark hair. I saw you speaking with him today on your deck.”

The car came to a halt at the top of the driveway.

She looked at him, daring him to deny it.

He saw the determination in her face and looked away. He couldn't lie to her, but he couldn't exactly explain that he was the Prince of the Amoveo either. “That was an old friend of the family.” He got out of the car, hoping she'd be satisfied with that answer.

Sam was starting to get pissed. Her energy waves thumped into him faster and harder. She knew that there was something unusual about the man she'd seen on the deck. He suspected that she'd seen Richard vanish. Guilt seeped into his heart because her instincts were right. But she doubted herself. He wanted her to ask him if he'd vanished into thin air to put him on the spot. If she asked him a direct question, he would not lie. How could he possibly explain who Richard was or what she had seen? Not yet.

Her eyes narrowed, and her back stiffened in defiance as she glared at him from the passenger seat. He knew that the more she ran through it in her mind, the more certain she was that it happened, but she still hadn't come right out and asked him, probably worried she'd seem crazy.

Malcolm opened the door and offered to help her from the car.

Hesitantly, she took his hand. He pulled her effortlessly from her seat. Her breasts gently brushed up against him, a featherlight touch that held a promise of pleasure to come. Their breath mingled on the cool summer evening. Their bodies hummed in unison with anticipation.

“I want you to trust me, Samantha,” he said in a low voice laced with desperation and desire.

He brought her delicate hand to his mouth and gently brushed his lips back and forth across her knuckles. He slowly ran his other hand up the graceful curve of her back and began to massage the soft skin at the nape of her lovely neck. Her breathing quickened, and with every breath, her breasts pressed tantalizingly against his chest.

“Please, give me a chance to win your trust,” he whispered against her trembling hand.

He brushed small kisses along her palm. Malcolm was on fire. Desire coiled inside of him, and the passion between them grew beyond control. He knew that her head told her to run, but every other fiber of her being begged for his touch. He sensed her resolve slipping away, inch by inch. Her energy wave shifted. The rapid drumming of fear had been replaced by heated pulses of desire.

He knew what he was doing was dangerous. He hid secrets from her that she may never truly believe. Yet despite all the doubts, she was still drawn to him beyond all reason. Her eyes searched his for answers. He wanted to tell her, but the right words escaped him.

“Malcolm.” His name came out in a desperate rush through her soft quivering mouth.

He leaned in and this time kissed her gently, slowly seducing her plump lips with his. He took her face delicately in his hands, as though she might break. She opened to him willingly and swept her tongue along his. The slow burn of desire crackled between them. She deepened the kiss and wrapped her warm arms around him. His large frame dwarfed her as she fit easily in his embrace. It was as though they'd been made for one another. His yearning for her clawed at him from the inside out; he needed to touch her everywhere.

He reached out to her mind with his and gently touched the most intimate part of her.

Trust me.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been tossed over her. Sam's eyes flew open, and she struggled to extricate herself from his embrace. She pushed her small hands against the hard planes of his chest and held him there at arm's-length for a moment. He kept his eyes locked with hers. Her energy waves crashed into him violently. Her shoulders shuddered beneath his hands, and her breath came quickly. She trembled. Tears filled her eyes, unable to register what she just heard.

He held his craving in check and kept his eyes from shifting. He allowed her time to process what had just happened. Looking into her frightened eyes, he reached out and again whispered gently along the edges of her mind.
Trust me.

Sam's eyes widened further. She shook her head and backed away from him in disbelief. Blindly, she ran into the house, leaving Malcolm alone. One glimmer of hope remained.

He'd been looking into the ice blue eyes of a wolf.

He sat in the car, watching them through night vision binoculars. His stomach lurched in response to what he'd seen. Her eyes had shifted; she was one of them, no doubt about that now. He knew what he had to do. It was simple really. She had to die and so did the creature. He pulled away quietly in the dark. He kept the headlights off so he wouldn't attract attention. He knew the creature was distracted with his whore; it wouldn't notice.

Tony smiled, remembering the triumph he'd had earlier this evening. It had tried to read him, and Tony had blocked it—one of the benefits of his partnership. His new friend had taught him how to put up a mental barrier, a means of self-preservation. Over the years, his family had been working to develop their psychic abilities. This way they could fight their enemy more effectively. Tony had done it. He warded off a mental invasion from
it
. Keeping that thing out of his mind took a lot of energy. Doing it also gave him a raging migraine. Tony couldn't maintain the block for long, but he did it. Once he'd been spotted, he immediately focused on keeping him out of his mind. Doing it took so much energy that Tony had to get out of there as soon as he could. He'd almost fainted from the effort, but he'd done it.

He pounded the steering wheel and hooted with excitement. He couldn't wait to tell his partner about the latest developments. He drove up to his house, thinking about how they had the audacity to sit there in the restaurant as though they were normal and had any right to be there, breathing the same air he did. It infuriated him. All those people in that restaurant, the clueless morons. They had no idea about the evil that lurked right under their noses. He thought about the Logan woman. She was a nice piece of ass, no one would argue that. Too bad she was tainted, evil. He thought about how she'd looked at that animal, and it made him sick. It was perverted, a human woman and that
thing
. He had to remind himself that she wasn't really human. Her eyes had mutated. Tony saw it happen, and it confirmed what they'd thought all along. Her humanity was being taken over. She was infected by the animal inside of her, and now she would have to die.

He got so excited thinking about the various ways he could do it. It would definitely be easier to kill her and then let the creature die slowly afterward. He thought about how much pain and suffering her death would bring to the creature. He ran different scenarios over in his mind as a slow smile spread across his face.

Samantha ran into the house and quickly locked the door behind her. She leaned her forehead against it, trying to catch her breath. Desperately trying to wrap her brain around what had just happened. “What's going on,” she said in a frightened whisper.

Nonie called from the kitchen, “Samantha? Is that you dear?”

Sam pulled herself together, knowing that she couldn't tell her grandmother what had just happened. How could she? She didn't even know herself. She wiped her eyes and collected herself as best she could.

Sam entered the kitchen as casually as possible and put on her best game face. “Nonie, I can't believe you're still awake. I hope I didn't wake you.” She tried to sound normal.

“Not at all. I just came down to get some tea before bed.” She got the mugs from the cabinet. “So how was your date with Malcolm?” She poured a steaming cup and gave it to Sam.

“It was…interesting.” She blew on the hot liquid, hoping to cool the drink as well as her blood.

“Interesting. Well, I guess that's not bad. Will you be seeing him again?” Nonie asked over the rim of her mug.

“Of course I will. After all he lives right next door.” Sam tried to keep the conversation light and avoided Nonie's gaze.

“That's not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I know.” Sam sighed. “But the truth is, I don't know. We'll see.” She shrugged, trying to be casual about the whole thing, praying Nonie wouldn't notice how nervous she felt. “Besides, I've only been home for a couple of days, and really I was just showing him around. You know, being neighborly. It's no big deal.” She tried to convince herself that was true.

“Well, just be careful. Love is a slippery slope, and it's so easy to fall,” Nonie said quietly.

“Love? Whoa, whoa wait a minute.” Sam held up her hand. “Who said anything about love? I just went out on
one
date with the guy. Nonie, I think you're getting ahead of yourself.” Sam stood up with her tea.

“Maybe.” Nonie reached out and took Sam's hand. “I just want you to be sure you keep your eyes and your mind wide open, so you can see exactly where you're going.” She held Sam's gaze with a rare seriousness.

“Don't worry, Nonie.” She leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Good night. I have to get some sleep if I'm going to be any good to Millie at the diner tomorrow.” Sam stopped before heading up the stairs and turned to look back at her grandmother. “Thanks for the tea. You always know just what I need.”

Samantha lay in bed that night, unable to asleep. She kept replaying the day's events in her mind. The disappearing man on the deck, Malcolm's eyes changing, the voice she heard in her head, and of course, the leg weakening kisses. She went to touch the cross at her neck, only to find that it wasn't there.

Her necklace was gone.

Sam shot up in bed and turned on the light. She frantically searched her bed, ripping the bedding off. She tore apart the bedroom, her bathroom, everywhere. It was amazing she didn't wake up Nonie with the ruckus.

Trying to be rational, she retraced her steps. She grabbed a flashlight from the junk drawer in the kitchen and went out to scour the driveway. She desperately searched the gravel for that precious glint of silver, but nothing. After what felt like hours of searching, she remained empty-handed. Defeated, she went back into the house with broken fingernails and teary eyes.

She knew she'd had it at the restaurant so she must've lost it sometime after that. It was probably when they were on the beach at Paddy's. Even in her current state, she blushed at the memory of kissing Malcolm. Her hand drifted up to the empty spot at her neck. Reluctantly, she resigned herself to the fact that she was not going to find her cross. Not in the pitch black middle of the night. The old saying about a needle in a haystack wafted through her mind. Sam finally went back up to bed and lay crying in the dark for what felt like hours. That cross was all she'd had of her mother. It was her most cherished possession and now it was gone. She wept as though she'd lost her mother all over again and finally cried herself to sleep.

***

Malcolm called to her in the dream realm.

After the way the evening had ended, he desperately wanted to connect with her again. She'd been so scared, so confused—and it just about killed him. He couldn't leave it like that.

He wandered through swirling pewter mists for what seemed like an eternity before he found her. Sam was on the beach with the waves crashing violently around her. Her white nightgown was drenched and clung deliciously to the curves of breasts and buttocks; his body stirred in response. His desire was quickly put aside when he saw she was crying. She was digging frantically in the sand, her long hair whipping violently in the wind; wet strands of it clung to her face. The dark stormy sky was a direct reflection of her grief. This environment she'd created came straight from her soul. He went to her side and gently touched her shoulder. She looked up at him with enormous blue eyes that spilled over with tears.

“My necklace, my cross, it's gone. I lost it. I think when we were on the beach tonight at Paddy's. I must've lost it there. I can't find it. Please Malcolm. Please help me,” she said between heavy sobs.

His heart broke as he knelt down next to her. She continued to claw at the sand. He saw that the cross wasn't at her neck as it always was and knew it was lost.

“Shhshhhh, I'll find it. I promise I'll find it for you.” He gently pulled her to him. He held her there on the sand as she wept against his chest, great heaving sobs that soaked his shirt with tears. He stroked the back of her head, smoothing her long hair and rocked her soothingly. Her grief and loss tore at his soul, a fiery stab with every sob. He'd never in his life felt such compassion for anyone, and it knocked him off balance. He'd always prided himself for his rational behavior, but this woman drove all reason from him.

Malcolm kissed her forehead with excruciating tenderness. He trailed soft kisses down her cheek. He tasted her salty tears, and he eventually claimed her lips. At first, the kiss was tender and soft. His lips slowly and seductively melded with hers. He swept his tongue softly along her lips, and she opened up, welcoming him into her mouth. He delicately laid her back onto the damp sand as the salt air misted around them, enveloping them. The fire flared inside of him every time their lips met. As their passion grew, the sea raged around them, and the winds howled. He covered her with the length of his body, his mouth branding hers. He held the back of her head, deepening the kiss. He stroked her calf and ran his hand up her leg, slowly bringing the edge of her damp nightgown up with it. He claimed her as his mate with every touch.

***

Samantha had never felt this kind of craving. It burned her entire body from the inside out. She knew this was only a dream, so she figured what the hell and willingly succumbed to her desires. She kissed him with a newfound abandon, their bodies entangled in the sand. The sea raged as his hand roamed up her leg. She couldn't think. She could only feel. He continued his seductive journey and slowly brushed up her rib cage. He captured her breast greedily. Her nipples tingled and peaked in response.

He trailed kisses down her throat and rained them between the valley of her breasts, eventually taking one rosy peak in his mouth. He suckled as she arched and moaned in response. Samantha ran her fingers in his thick chestnut hair, holding him to her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He rose up, taking her lips once again with his. She couldn't tell where his mouth ended and hers began. She squirmed against him, begging for release from the storm building within her. His leg pressed between her thighs as she rubbed up against him. She moaned her pleasure.

He pulled back to look at her, and even if it was only a dream, she wanted to savor every second. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop. His eyes glowed with passion and a smile of pleasure played at his lips. She loved looking into those brilliant, yellow eyes, glazed with passion. Staring up at him she knew she was lost to him—dream or no dream—forever. She wasn't afraid anymore.

He closed his eyes as she caringly touched the side of his face. As strong as this man was, he had a compassionate side to him that he kept hidden—until now. She traced the strong line of his jaw and ran her thumb along his firm lips. He closed his eyes and leaned into her loving ministrations. Their bodies, still intertwined, heavily hummed with a need they had yet to satisfy. He opened his eyes, and a smile played at his lips.

“Trust me, Samantha. I'll find your necklace. I'll bring it to you. Your happiness is my primary concern.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “But now,
mia piccola lupa
, it's time to wake up.”

***

Samantha woke up covered in sweat and twisted up in her sheets. Her body still tingled. Never in her life had she had such an erotic dream. Hell, she'd never experienced anything like that in real life. Rising from the bed, she stretched out her slightly sore muscles and walked slowly over to her dresser. Images of their bodies mingled on the beach still flashed through her mind. The memories alone made her womb clench and her nipples tighten. She blushed at her body's swift reaction. Sam picked up the brush on her dresser and froze when she saw her reflection. The eyes she was looking into weren't her own. They were the ice blue eyes of a wolf, the wolf in her dreams.

Sam stood there, mesmerized by the foreign image. She tried desperately to reconcile what she was looking at. Slowly, she touched her face to be sure she was actually awake. She leaned closer. Sam swallowed hard, leaning both hands on the dresser. She steadied her breathing and squeezed her eyes shut tight for several seconds. When she looked again, they had returned to their usual dark blue.

“What the hell?”

She blinked repeatedly, trying to see if they'd change again, like some kind of crazed genie, but to no avail. She shook her head in disbelief. Out of habit, Sam reached up to touch her cross, only to remember that it had been lost the night before. Tears began to well up again when she heard Malcolm's voice, calm and soothing, in her head.

I'll find it and bring it to you,
mia piccola lupa
. I promise.

Instinctively she reached out and touched his mind with hers.

Please find it, Malcolm.

She closed her eyes as tears of sadness streamed down her cheeks.

The blare of the alarm sliced through the room and brought her back to some semblance of reality. Sam sniffled and rubbed her teary eyes. She slapped the clock hard and silenced the shrill sound.

“Well, this should be one helluva day,” she mumbled to herself as she gathered her clothes. “I hope Millie and her patrons don't mind having a mental patient for a waitress.”

***

When Malcolm awoke, he was grinning. She was finally letting him into her mind and hopefully into her heart. She had reached out and touched her mind to his, consciously using their mental link for the very first time. His smile faded, however, when he remembered how much pain she was in. He must find her necklace. He had to do as she requested; he could do nothing else. Her grief was as crushing to him as a physical blow. His reaction to her pain caught him completely off guard. He'd heard of how strong the connections were between mates, but nothing could've prepared him for the reality. He shook his head and wondered how much stronger it would get once they were actually mated.

He would do anything within his power to find her necklace…it was imperative. It would prove to her that their dream was shared. He would gain her trust, but more than anything, it would make her happy. She was his life mate, and he wanted nothing more than to fulfill her every requirement.

The man from last night also weighed heavy on his mind. He had to find out who he was. He would take great pleasure in hand delivering him to the Council. He came downstairs and was greeted, as usual, by Davis.

“Morning, sir. How was your date with Ms. Samantha?” Davis held out coffee and the morning newspaper.

“I'm afraid the Caedo has found us.” He grabbed his car keys and sunglasses.

“Are you sure, sir? It's been so many years since we've had any sign of them. The Council members have even toyed with the idea that they've lost some of their diligence in the last generation or so,” Davis said.

“Last night at the restaurant there was a man watching Sam. When I tried to read him, he…blocked me.” He looked away, too embarrassed to face Davis, to admit that a human had blocked his efforts.

“Blocked you, sir,” Davis asked with some confusion.

“He knew I was trying to read him,” he seethed, “and he put up a mental barrier. I couldn't get through it. I looked at Sam to see if she noticed anything, and when I looked back, he was gone.” He lowered his gaze, ashamed at this failure.

“Have you told the Prince yet? I'm sure he'll want to tell the Council about this. Yes indeed, sir. They'll absolutely want to know.”

“No. I'll call to him again later today. First, I have to go back to that blasted place and find her necklace. She lost it last night, and it means more to her than anything. I don't think I can handle it if I ever see that kind of anguish on her face again.”

“Very well, sir. But do be careful. This fellow from last night sounds like he could pose quite a problem for you as well.”

“I can handle myself, but Samantha is completely unprepared for dealing with the Caedo. Perhaps you could stop over and check on her today? She's working over at that diner in town but last night she said she'd be back in the early afternoon.”

“That sounds like a fine idea, sir. I could drop by with a welcome home basket for her. She'll be just fine.” He winked.