Beast of Fire -- a Demon Hunting Sexy Romance (19 page)

Cullen’s gaze deepened. “Have a good night, Kresley.”

“Good night,” she said, more than happy to pop open the door and get the heck out of there. Her heart was fluttering wildly, as if a bird had gotten loose inside her chest and was trying to burst from confinement.
 

She stepped out of the car, and instantly, her nerve endings crackled with awareness. Her gaze lifted, searched, and locked on Lucan as he charged toward the car, still several yards away because any relief she felt over his safety, quickly disappeared when she saw the primal rage in his face, the wildness of out-of-control anger.
 

She slammed the car door as her fluttering heart slammed into her chest, and raced toward him, determined to put herself between him and the car. This was not the time or place to attack Cullen. They weren’t ready. And Lucan was not okay. He was not himself. He wasn’t anyone she recognized. Whatever was affecting him was not human, it was Demon in nature, and she knew it.
 

He sidestepped her, fixated on the car, and she yelled at him. “No Lucan!”
 

He didn’t look at her. He kept charging for the car. Please don’t let Cullen see Lucan, don’t let this turn into a nightmare. Damn it, Cullen drive on! Finally, tires rotated on gravel. Relief filled Kresley as she heard the tires tread faster, the car pulling away.
 

Kresley closed the distance between herself and Lucan. At closer range, his eyes were dark, dilated, his face distorted with anger that bordered on pain. She felt as if her heart would be ripped out of her chest. She flung her arms around him, held him, called his name. God, what had the Demons done to him? What had she done to him? She didn’t know how to fix all of this. She just wanted him to be okay. She wanted everything to be okay. No matter how hard she tried, it wasn’t okay.
 

She didn’t know what to do anymore, what to do for Lucan in this moment. So she held him, and for the first time in a year, she prayed–for strength, for answers, for Lucan to come back to her.

Chapter Fourteen

Lucan’s chest heaved as he felt Kresley’s arms wrap around him. He wanted blood. He wanted the Wolf’s blood. Intermittent images of Kresley naked, in Cullen Moore’s arms, kaleidoscoped through his mind and mingled with images of Cullen killing some strange human he didn’t recognize.
 

Breath in. Breath out. Kresley. Her touch. Her smell. The scent of jasmine. Yes. Kresley. His arms closed around her. Her body was warm. The clouds in his mind began to fade, his nerve endings simmering with electricity but no longer zapping him with incapacitating charges.
 

When had he lost control? He climbed through the cobwebs of his mind, yet barely remembered leaving the hotel. Barely remembered the moment he’d snapped. Obviously, it was one thing to limit the control the Guardians claimed of him, quite another to control his inner beast at the same time. Wickedly impossible. But he was quickly gaining his bearings, becoming aware of his surroundings. Aware of the soft, warm woman clinging to him. Kresley. Every moment they had spent together had been wracked with trouble.
 

His gaze lifted, surveyed. Busy street. People everywhere. Him acting like a damn fool, a thug who belonged in a local holding cell. Damn.
 

“Lucan?” Kresley asked tentatively, her hand lightly brushing his cheek. “Are you okay?”

His hands went to her shoulders, a question exploding from his lips before he could stop it. The lethal quality of his tone out of his control. “What were you doing with him?”
 

“I . . . what?” She frowned, looked confused. “Cullen? Did you get my message?” Her beautiful face paled. “I tried to call you. He gave me the book.” Her hands went to his wrists. "Lucan. I have the book.”

Book . . . Book. He didn’t care about the book. Later he’d care about the book. Much later. He wanted to kiss her, to claim her as his. He focused on the pounding of his heart as a distraction. Thump. Thump. Thump.
 
He squeezed his eyes shut, reached deep into his senses, trying to focus on safety, not desire, not wild jealousy, ridiculous anger. “We need to get out of here.”
 

“Lucan—"
 

“No,” he said, his lashes snapping open. “I can’t talk now.” Lord-only-knew what she must see in his eyes. He forced his voice an octave lower. “We’ll talk. I promise. We’ll talk. About the book. About what happened today. About everything. Alone. In the hotel room, where you’ll be safe.” Talk. Not make love.
 

“I’m all for safe,” she agreed and took his hand, warmth sliding up his forearm, shoulders and chest. But oddly, he wasn’t out of control. If anything, he was calmer with each passing second.
 

In silent agreement, they started walking. Lucan weaved a path through the busy streets, straight for their cover hotel, the Embassy Suites. When they were about to enter the lobby, Kresley grabbed his arm. “I really think we're being followed.”
 

“I’m counting on it,” he said, and tugged her forward.
 

On the elevator, Lucan went up a level and then got off. “Is this where we're staying?” Kresley asked nervously.
 

“Not a chance,” Lucan responded, staying focused, alert, aware he still wasn’t fully himself.
 

“Okay, good,” she said in a sigh of relief.

He led her to the ice machine and found the service area, tipping a maid to look the other way. They took the service elevator to the basement and exited into a business area that had gone dark for the evening. Lucan could still feel the presence of wolves nearby; and judging from the way Kresley was looking all around, she did, too.
 

“Easy,” he said softly, squeezing her hand, amazed he could find any gentleness in himself considering the bite of darkness eating away at him. For Kresley though, he found it. And the look of appreciation she cast up at him added to his determination to get her to safety, to let her feel some peace.
 

Two more blocks and Lucan acted on the plan in his mind. He pulled Kresley into a gap between two buildings and waited. Several seconds passed and sure enough, a wolf passed by.
 

Lucan motioned for Kresley to stay put, having no desire for her to be in unnecessary danger, nor did he want her to see him kill. Though he knew she’d seen it before, tonight he was raw, brutal, without any sense of humanity. The instant he had Kresley’s agreement, Lucan darted forward, trailing his prey.
 

With the skill of a practiced warrior, he pursued the wolf; the anger he felt over Cullen was set free to kill an enemy. In a matter of
 
moments, he’d come up on the wolf from behind, removed his short-handled blade and spun the wolf around – he slammed the blade into the wolf’s heart, every bit of anger over the night’s events in the thrust that sent the wolf crumbling to the ground dead.
 

Chest heaving, his dark side barely contained, Lucan looked up to find Kresley standing in the shadows watching. Shadows he was thankful for because he could only imagine what he must look like–angry, holding a knife, a dead Demon at his feet.
 

He felt her attention as he might a judge and jury. He wiped the knife clean on the wolf’s shirt and returned to Kresley’s side. As he neared, he dreaded what he might see in her face, dreaded the thought of seeing disgust or fear. Perhaps because he hated what he felt he’d become and didn’t want her to see the true depth of the darkness growing in his soul. But as he came face to face with her, he saw only relief in her face.
 

“Let’s go to that safe place,” she whispered.

If only he knew where that was.
 

He took her hand and led her to the Ritz Carlton, this time without delay. A place where the biggest danger of all was him – and the beast within him, the one that wanted her as much as he did.
 

    
***

The Fae Prince had wanted something from him that Cullen had hesitated to deliver because it required trust. Trust he’d previously reserved for his own kind –- the fact that he could no longer continue that practice struck an infuriated nerve. But tonight, Cullen was beginning to consider the deal the Prince had offered him. He would consider a lot to end the rebel uprising, which is exactly what the Prince was promising him.
 

He sat in a private room on the lower level of the Blue Smoke restaurant where the council meeting would soon convene. Cullen sat at a long, wooden table that could accommodate the dozen members of the council. For now there were only three of them at the table. The Prince, who sat directly across from Cullen, and Tara, an attractive brunette, the Wiccan member of the council, who sat between them, to his immediate left, at the head of the table.
 

Tara’s claim that she had critical information had resulted in the urgent message from the Prince; it was the sole reason he’d agreed to attend a second meeting. “I understand you have something to tell me,” Cullen said flatly, his gaze brushing her creamy complexion with appreciation despite the hardness in his voice and attitude. He was not convinced this was worth his time.
 

She cast him a pensive look, her beautiful hazel eyes latching onto his, probing. “I have a name for you. One of the rebel wolves.”

Cullen’s eyes riveted to the Prince, noting the finely etched tattoo of wings spread along the Fae’s cheeks and nose, then narrowed his eyes on the Fae’s. The Prince arched a brow in challenge, as if saying you doubted me?
 

“What is the name, Tara?” the Prince asked.
 

Cullen’s gaze shifted back to Tara as she answered, “Alexander.”
 

Cullen didn’t react outwardly, his face an indecipherable mask. But his blood pumped, his mind raced. Alexander was on his security team, next in charge below Nick. Had he doubted Nick for nothing? Was it always Alexander? “How do you know this?”“Tara has the unique ability to blend with the shadows for several minutes at a time,” the Prince stated.

Cullen’s arched a brow at Tara. “An interesting skill. Dangerous too, if misused.” The words were meant as a warning.
 

She pursed her lips. Nice lips. Full lips. “I’m quite aware of the risks, I assure you.” She didn’t wait for a reply. “As for Alexander. I’m sure you heard there was a Seer killed last night?”
 

He studied her closely, wondering why she intrigued him when he had no time, or inclination, to be intrigued. “I did.”
 

She quickly continued, “I was at the bar when it all went down. And I wasn’t the only one. The Hunter, as we have all come to know him, was there as well, along with a red-haired female. They went in to visit with the Seer, and the wolves attacked.” She shifted in her chair, tapped her well-manicured nails on the table. “One of the other wolves, not Alexander, was furious over the escape. He said killing the Hunter would have earned your trust again. That you were doubting him.”

Cullen balled his fist on his leg. Nick. She was talking about Nick. But he said nothing, he let Tara continue her story. “He beat Alexander and blamed him for the failure. He was definitely the one responsible for the rebel uprising.” Her eyes went to his hands, lingering on the ring, then lifted. They were a lovely violet shade, so unlike a Demon's. So very . . . human. “He spoke of the ring. Of wanting it so he could claim leadership of the pack.” She continued to hold his gaze. “He plans to destroy you.”

Cullen didn’t so much as blink, did not feel fear. “I am not so easily destroyed."

“I believe you,” she said softly.
 

He did not miss the interest tingeing those violet eyes. Interest he would not be pursuing. Not when they were on the council together. “Do you know this rebel's name?” he asked, preparing for the blow of hearing Nick’s name from another, of openly confirming the betrayal. Instead, Tara sobered, shaking her head. “I should warn you that no one dares speak his name after he so easily killed the Seer. Seers are feared. This wolf did not fear her. That makes him look untouchable to many.”

“But not to you?”

She shook her head. “Not to me. Not to anyone in my coven. But then, we understand the Seer’s limitations in ways many others do not.”

He didn’t need the name, not really. He knew who it was. He knew it was Nick. Cullen tapped his foot under the desk, adrenaline rushing through his limbs. He wanted blood. He wanted the blood of his betrayer, the wolf he had considered a friend. And he wanted it now. With the threat of Adrian encroaching upon the pack, he had no time to waste.
 

Which meant he needed to be armed in every way possible. And there was still one other complication. His gaze shifted between Tara and the Prince. “Any idea who the Hunter is working for?”

 
“At first,” Tara said. “I thought it might be Adrian. But now, I’m not sure. He only seems to attack the rebel wolves. Why would Adrian stop the rebels from destroying the peaceful existence you’ve worked to create? And why kill the rebels who threaten to tear the pack apart from the inside out?”

Cullen wasn’t convinced Adrian wasn’t involved, and he wondered at the Prince’s silence. “The rebels are careless, breaking every code I’ve established for our protection. It could simply be that they are exposing themselves, thus becoming the targets.” He turned an expectant look on the Prince, his silence a growing point of unease.