Hunter's Salvation (13 page)

He stepped a little closer, and Jess realized she'd let him corner her again. Against the counter this time, and his hands came up, caging her in place. “You don't need to know my last name in order for me to make you scream. Matter of fact, you don't really even need to know my first name.” He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the side of her neck.

Jess felt that light contact clear down to her toes. He was right. She had absolutely no doubt that this man could make her scream. Even though she wasn't much of a screamer, she knew he could do it. And she was tempted. She was damned tempted. He was as hot and sexy as he was irritating. Okay. More. But still…“I'm not into casual, Vax. Okay?”

For a moment, she wasn't sure whether he was going to move. But then he did, stepping away and studying her with unreadable eyes. “If you're sure that's how you want to play, blondie. Casual is about all I'm good for.”

“Ah, weren't you standing in here telling me about faith and belief just this morning? Don't you have to write off casual sex as part of that?” Jess asked, slipping around him so that he couldn't pin her again.

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and Jess found herself staring at the way the T-shirt stretched over his muscles. His earlier words didn't make sense, and she looked at his face and said, “Huh?”

That cocky, cynical smile was on his face again, but this time it didn't reach his eyes. “I said…I have faith in something beyond this. But I don't have a chance in hell of seeing paradise, Jess. I fuck up and destroy everything I touch sooner or later. So I'll just find what little bit of paradise here that I can.”

He turned away and left the kitchen.

I don't have a chance in hell of seeing paradise.

The strength sapped out of her legs, and she collapsed at the table, burying her face in her hands. Her body was screaming at her. Although she definitely didn't do casual, a quick roll in the sack with him sounded damned appealing.

In the sack. On the table or the floor. Up against a wall.

Jess also had a feeling that casual sex wasn't what she'd get if she got naked with Vax. Something about his eyes, about the way he looked at her. A woman would get in bed with him and come out with a little weak, a little sore, and a lot thankful. And addicted. Very addicted.

Jess wanted that. She
craved
it. If he had pushed, just a little, Jess had no doubt she would have given in. He probably knew that. Instead he had backed off.

What had he meant?

I don't have a chance in hell of seeing paradise.

The man had
hero
written all over him. Heroes bled for others. If they weren't the kind to make it into some cloudy, ethereal wonderland, then who did?

Finally Jess pushed herself to her feet and headed out of the kitchen. She halfway expected to find him gone, but she found him crouched in front of the fireplace, dropping a log onto the grate. “There are some matches on the…”

He glanced at her and smiled before he held his hand over the logs. “That's okay. I think I got it.” She jumped as the wood burst into flame. A little burst, but still, a burst all the same. The log crackled away, little red embers floating upward. “Wow.”

His lips quirked. He drew his hand back and held it out in front of him. In his cupped palm, he held a dancing, spinning sphere of fire. “David Copperfield's got nothing on me.” Lowering his head, he blew on the mass of flames, and it went out.

“Can you fly?” Jess drawled. She strolled into the living room, trying not to let him see how much he'd affected her. As she dropped down onto the couch, she could tell he already knew. It was there in those weird gray eyes. She wondered when he'd decide to press his advantage again.

“Not the way you mean.”

Before she could ask him what he meant by that, he was gone.
Gone.
Like, poof. Except there was no smoke screen for him to disappear into. He was just
gone
.
“Holy shit.”
Jess jumped up off the couch, her heart pounding out a drumbeat and her palms slick with sweat. “What the hell…”

Before she finished the sentence, he was back and holding an apple in his hand. Standing in the exact same spot he had been in before he disappeared. Okay. Some sort of illusion. He hadn't really disappeared. Some sort of illusion. That was it. “How did you do that?”

Vax shrugged. “I flew.” He lifted the apple and took a bite out of it, his eyes bright with amusement.

Sourly, she thought,
I'm so glad I amuse you.
Out loud, she said, “That wasn't flying. That was disappearing. Or making me think you had. How did you do that?” If she hadn't been in her own house, she would have gotten up and started checking for trapdoors.

“Like I said, I can fly. Just not the way you mean.” He sauntered over to her and reached out, putting his finger under her chin and closing her mouth with a snap. He moved away again with that same loose-limbed easy grace.

He moved like a cowboy. The thought popped into her head from nowhere, distracting her from what he had just done. “Why don't you explain that to me?”

“Maybe some other time. Right now…we need to talk about what's been going on here.”

Jess shook her head and said, “No. I think right now I need to know what I just saw. People can't just disappear like that.” Jess would have started pacing, but he was standing close to the fire again, and it seemed he took up a hell of a lot of space. Her skin was still buzzing from earlier, and her gut was all tight with nerves from that little trick of his, so going near him wasn't an option.

“Normal people, no. You're right. But I'm not exactly normal, sweetheart.”

“Would you stop calling me
sweetheart
?” she shouted. The sound of it surprised her. She turned away with a wince. Jeez. He got to her like nothing she'd ever seen. Deciding a little more distance would be a good thing, she moved behind the couch before she turned to face him.

“You sure as hell are touchy,” he mused. Then he looked back to the fire, crouching down in front of it and staring into the flames. “Look, it's a complicated thing, and not one I understand particularly well. I just know I can do it. A few other witches have the ability, too. It's called
flying
. We don't disappear into nowhere. We leave one place, appear in another. I appeared in your kitchen and grabbed the apple.” He lifted it and took another bite out of it before glancing at her.

No. Oooohhhh, no. “That isn't possible.”

His voice was mild as he replied, “Well, some people would say it's impossible to move things with your mind, but you do it.”

He had that tone of voice people used when they were explaining things to small children or to somebody who was very dense. Her eyes narrowed. She decided she didn't care for it at all. “There is scientific evidence of psychic ability. Disappearing into thin air, different story.”

“What about fire?”

Her gaze slid to the roaring flames in her fireplace. “You know, you make my head hurt.”

Vax laughed. “I've been told that a time or two. Come back over here and sit down. We need to figure out what's going on with these kidnappings, why the women are being held for so long before they kill them. And why
these
women.”

“I
DON'T
think she is ready for this.”

Thomas stood in front of the cell, staring through the clear wall panel at Dena, watching as she lay sleeping. Or pretending to sleep. She knew they were there. Perhaps she could even hear them. They had yet to determine just how acute her senses had become, and William had been more interested in other things during his brief visits.

Like seeing whether she had the power to shape-shift before the full moon rose in the sky. Seeing how long it took to replenish the power the shifting took. Seeing whether she could use her magick while in wolf form.

She was definitely the most promising of all the current subjects. She had come through the transition intact, and she possessed the capabilities William and Thomas needed for success: violence, intelligence, and a complete and utter lack of conscience.

Most of the other subjects either would be terminated or Thomas would use them to conduct further tests. The man was ruthless when he was trying to unravel a mystery. And that was exactly what the failed experiments were to him.

Of the other nine occupied cells, there were three that were of importance to them.

A male, a young vampire whom they'd convinced to join the study just a few weeks out of his Change. He'd probably survive. He wasn't a powerful vampire and he wouldn't ever become a Master—he wouldn't ever have control over other vamps. But he would definitely come in useful. He had come through the transition remarkably intact.

The other two important occupants were women. The monitors showed them strapped to tables, their heads shaved bare. The straps were mostly just a precaution. These women were brain-dead. They had been the strongest witches the team had dared to grab, and they were currently being used to harvest more of the chemical. Thomas had been quite successful at developing a synthetic version, but he and William preferred to have some of the real stuff on hand just in case.

Unfortunately for the witches, harvesting it was a pretty damaging process. The surgery left them brain-dead. As long as Thomas didn't take too much too quickly, and as long as they continued to care for the witches' bodies, kept them hydrated and fed, they'd produce the chemical for some time to come.

Tubes had been inserted into their skulls. Thomas used those to harvest the chemical. The witches weren't the most attractive creatures, tubes running this way and that, their scalps bald and scarred. But their appearance was of no concern. Their worth lay inside those skulls.

William heard an annoying tapping, and he turned around to see Thomas standing before the computer. William recognized the disc Thomas was viewing. It was a recording of one of their subjects Changing. It was odd to watch—like watching himself shifting and then freezing just before the shift completed.

William didn't particularly care that the shift wasn't complete. The shifters still possessed the strength, the speed, and the animal instincts needed. Thomas wouldn't be happy, though, until he knew why the shifts were incomplete. William didn't give a damn about Thomas's happiness, but when Thomas wasn't happy, he was a serious pain in the ass.

“I still don't understand why their forms look so bizarre.” Thomas frowned, ever the scientist. “Only a few of them have been able to shift at all, and not one of them has been strong enough to complete the full shift.”

“Perhaps it is not a question of strength,” William said with a shrug. “We are forcing their bodies to accept this new change. Perhaps a minor shift is all they will ever accomplish. If you want me to be honest, I don't give a flying fuck if they will ever run on four legs through the forest. I care for the soldiers you are breeding, ones that will be loyal to us.”

Thomas turned away from Dena and focused on William. “As I said, this is not wise. Dena is little more than a child when it comes to her new powers. Sending her out could be her death, and I'd rather not lose the one successful specimen from this particular study.”

Patting Thomas's shoulder, William said, “You worry too much. After all, this is just a mortal we are sending her after. If she can't handle one weak, foolish human, is she really any use to us?”

Thomas had no argument for that. As William went over to the keypad and entered his code, the vampire murmured agreement. He also added an additional word of warning. “We do need to be careful. If there is one wrong move, if she is seen by the wrong person, even once, it could lead them to us.”

William slid a glance at him as he watched the doors to Dena's cell slide open. If she was as clever as he suspected, she'd find a way to the girl in a relatively short amount of time. “If you speak of the Hunters, I'm aware we need to stay under the radar. But they didn't have much luck tracking our escapee, now, did they?”

“That is because they killed her. If they had kept her alive and questioned her…” Thomas's voice trailed off, but the unsaid words came through loud and clear.

“She was a failure. We both know that. If she hadn't escaped, we would have likely eliminated her within a few days. She was caught because she was weak and stupid. Dena is neither.”

“I don't know. I was stupid enough to get taken in by you.” Her voice didn't match her body. With those sultry, deadly looks, she should have had a low, husky, telephone-sex kind of voice. Instead, it was high-pitched, with a shrill sort of Minnie Mouse quality. Not the kind of voice that was going to be forgotten. And it definitely wasn't the kind of voice a man wanted to listen to for very long.

She sauntered in, stopping in front of the bank of monitors. She tapped long, ragged nails against one, studying the two brain-dead witches. “Geez. And I thought I was getting a bad deal. Least I'm not one of those turnips strapped down.” When she turned around, she had a nasty little smile on her red mouth. “I'm just a guinea pig locked in a cage.”

William grinned. “Now, Dena, you're not a guinea pig. You're a wolf. Well, sort of.”

Dena smiled, that same evil smirk. “Sort of a wolf. I
was
a witch. What the hell am I now? And why am I…whatever I am now?” She twined a thick lock of black hair around her finger and strolled up to William. She was a tall bitch, that was for sure. He was six feet even. Dena stood just a breath taller than he did. He could feel the heat of her body, smell her skin—she smelled female, wild, and very, very appetizing.

His cock got hard as he thought about just how appetizing. He imagined she'd be completely ruthless in bed. She'd want to dominate. He usually took women who were a little meeker, a little more mild. But he had a violent urge to strap her down and climb on, fuck her until she screamed, until some of that defiance faded from her eyes.

Her nostrils flared, and her gaze slid down. As she stared at the ridge tenting the front of his trousers, her smile widened. “Is that a rabbit in your pants?” she murmured. Her eyes lifted, and she held his gaze as she brushed the back of her hand against his penis.

William reached down to cover her hands with his, but her hand shifted and she grasped him through his pants. She tightened her fingers, squeezing to the point of pain. “It had better be. Because if you're happy to see me, then you're stupider than you look,” she purred, squeezing tighter and tighter.

He smiled back and arched into her hand. “Not stupid, precious. And if you want to do it right, it would be more effective to put that stranglehold on my balls instead of my dick,” he whispered. Lowering his head, he licked her lips and pushed his tongue inside her mouth.

She tasted as wild and dark as he'd expected. He traced his tongue over her teeth, lingering on the sharp points of her canines. Purposefully, he slid his tongue along the tips, feeling his tongue slice open. As blood flooded both of their mouths, Dena groaned and tore away from him. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as she touched her fingers to her lips. Then, in a blur of motion, she reached up and clasped her hands around his skull, jerking his mouth back to hers.

 

H
E'D
finally left. Jess lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and brooding. Sleep escaped her, but that was nothing new. Sleep was a rare luxury for her and had been for most of her adult life. On most nights, she averaged two or three hours and catnapped for the rest of the night. Just another one of her little neuroses. And it had gotten worse since Randi's death. Now, on most nights, she might get an hour. If she got more than that, she was grateful.

Even though her lids felt heavy, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping for quite a while. Normally when she knew sleep was going to elude her, Jess wouldn't bother staying in bed. There was usually something either annoying, stupid, or funny on TV—sometimes she could numb herself into sleep with a B movie marathon.

But tonight she was just too drained. She might not be able to sleep, but she could feel herself zoning out. If she got relaxed enough, she might just get some rest. So long as she didn't really think…about…

Jess drifted in a comfortable haze, not quite awake. Total sleep lay before her, yawning like a warm dark cavern. Maybe she might even dream. A nice hot dream featuring none other than—

It's always a scary thing to come into complete wakefulness and realize you're not alone. Even more so when one knows one
should
be alone. Jess didn't stiffen, or sit up, or even move at first. She continued to lie there, her senses attuned, as she forced herself to breathe softly and deeply. Her skin crawled, and she was so damned tense that she felt like she was going to snap into pieces.

As the silence continued, she rolled over onto her back, careful to keep her movements slow and easy, just like somebody would when she shifted in her sleep.

By the door. A shadow just a little darker than the others. Vax? She studied the shadow from under her lashes, and although the height seemed right, nothing else did. For one thing, the übersexy witch just didn't strike her as the type to stand in a woman's bedroom and pull the creepy watcher act.

For another—the glitter in the eyes was all wrong. She could just barely make out the eyes, and although they did glow, it wasn't the same kind of glow. More like a cat's eyes glittering in the dark. An
evil
cat. There was something malevolent about it. Terror had wrapped a fist around her throat, and she couldn't control the sudden, harsh intake of breath.

The eyes seemed to disappear, as though the thing had blinked. When they reappeared, it had moved closer. Whatever it was, the thing would know she was awake now. Waiting any longer wasn't going to do her any good. Jess squinted her eyes and braced herself, and then focused her mind on the light switch by the door. As light flooded the room, the shadow lunged.

She couldn't make sense of what she was seeing, but she didn't need to know what it was before she could act. Instinct kicked in, and she lifted her hands. The hand movements had nothing to do with the kinetic energy jolting out of her—they were just an intuitive thing, like she was trying to shield herself against the coming attack. The physical power that shoved back the intruder came solely from her mind.

The thing went flying through the air, and it crashed into her wall so hard that plaster cracked. Jess took advantage of it and rolled from the bed, kicking the sheets away so they wouldn't tangle around her. She said a quick prayer that her legs would support her as she shoved herself to her feet. Her knees wobbled a little, but her legs held. One look at the thing, though, almost turned her into a quivering, mindless mass of fear.

“Holy shit.”

Jess felt as if she had been pushed into one of those B movies. The thing surged to its feet as though it had springs in place of muscle. The muscles were huge. It looked like the thing had basketballs rolling around under its skin. The thing was enormous, probably close to seven feet. Thighs the size of tree trunks; big, brawny arms; and meaty-looking hands. No, they were more like claws, Jess decided, longer than fingers, with at least three articulated joints in each digit, topped with wicked, curving black claws.

The nose looked oddly flat in the thing's face; the jaw jutted forward. It had golden eyes that were almost lost under the huge, protruding brow ridge. It looked like a cross between Michael J. Fox in the old eighties flick
Teen Wolf
, and a Neanderthal. A very, very hairy Neanderthal. So damned hairy, she couldn't see skin under the hair. And the hair looked thick, coarse, almost like a pelt.

Jess swallowed. The thing looked at her, and its lips spread in a grotesque mockery of a smile. At the sight of it, a cold, nasty sweat broke out over her body. But if she thought the smile was disturbing, it was nothing like the deep, rasping voice that came out of its mouth. “You're going to be more fun than I thought.”

The voice was alien, like the sound from one of those voice distorters she'd seen in movies, rough and growling, squeezing through a throat that had been made for a human, not an animal.

The terror threatened to drown her, but she battled it down, refusing to let it take hold. She had learned how to deal with emotion, whether it was fear, excitement, terror, or anxiety. She could funnel it away and let it dissipate on its own, all without ever letting down her shields. Jess didn't let down her shields. She didn't trust herself or the power inside her. Anger played tricks, with a gift like hers. Fear played even worse tricks, and the chaos that came from it could hurt people.