Hunting Human (8 page)

They built a rhythm, a frenzied pace that left them both gasping. The sweat of their bodies glazed their skin and slicked their movements. His hands caught hers; he linked their fingers together and pressed the back of her palms to the bed above her head.

She lifted her chin and caught his mouth, their tongues dancing parallel to the rest of them. When his breath came faster and faster, and the weight of him pressed heavier and thicker within her, she jerked her mouth away and scraped her teeth across the skin of his shoulder. He cried out, his entire body shaking with the force of his release, rushing her headlong into a second climax so strong, so stunning her entire body clenched and shuddered around him.

Slowly, her senses began to filter back to her. She tasted the salt of his skin against her tongue and heard their combined breath flooding the room. It took her two tries to get her muscles to uncoil enough to pull her legs down from where they wrapped around his waist. She settled for entwining them with his, not yet ready to allow him to retreat.

Braden shifted and withdrew but pulled her against him as he rolled to his side so they were pressed chest to chest, their legs still locked together. He pulled his hand through her hair and along her spine as he studied her face.

“Christ,” he said, his words thick and unsteady. With each passing second, he seemed to come back to himself, the possessive grip on her butt loosened, and the heavy slide of his hand against her back became a gentle caress. “I…God, are you alright?”

Beth smiled and nodded into the crook of his neck and let her eyes fall shut. Her hand splayed over his chest, absorbing the steady
thump-thump
of his heart. “Perfect.”

***

The cell phone vibrating on his nightstand woke Braden out of a satiated sleep. What time was it? He flung his arm toward the nightstand, Beth’s warm weight pinning him to the bed. She slept deeply, her head resting against his arm, her hair falling down her shoulders like curling lengths of silk. Sometime during the night, the sheet had slid down her back and now rested at the top of the curve of her ass. Phone forgotten, Braden gently shifted out from beneath her and allowed his fingers to skim along the length of her spine. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and pulled her closer, pressing his leg between hers, burrowing his face against her neck. The moment his eyes began to droop, the text message indicator on his phone sounded.

Braden muttered under his breath as he carefully extricated himself from Beth and the warmth of his bed. He reached for his phone and opened the new message.

We need to talk. Call me. Chase

Braden toggled through the missed call logs. Chase had called. Twice. At 4:30 in the morning.

“Fuck.” Braden rose, pulled on his boxers and stepped into the hallway, softly closing the door as he dialed Chase.

Chase picked up on the first ring. “Good. You’re awake.”

“I am now. This better be important, Chase. It’s 4:30 in the damn morning.” Braden leaned irritably against the kitchen counter, “You get hit by another Cutlass?”

“No.” An awkward silence filled the line.

Braden sighed. “What’s wrong, and
where
are you?”

“Out.” Chase paused. “We need to talk.”

“And this couldn’t wait until morning?” Braden grumbled, pulling the carton of orange juice out of the fridge.

“You need to know who’s sleeping in your bed.”

“Oh, for the love of God, not this again.” It took a moment for the rest of Chase’s implication to sink in. “How did you know Beth was here tonight?”

Silence filled the line again, then Chase said, “I stopped by earlier.”

“Whatever.” Braden took a long swig from the orange juice container, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Angie telling him to get a damned glass. “You’re off base here, Chase. She’s got nothing to do with Markko.”

“You don’t know her,” Chase retorted. “She’s setting you up.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Braden worked to keep his temper from boiling over. “We don’t even know what Markko’s doing here. So he’s followed me around. To then assume he’s somehow involved with Beth is premature.”

“Jason’s dead.”

Anger morphed to dread. “When?”

“Tonight. I found him in an alley about an hour ago; his throat slit.”

“Shit.” Braden rubbed hand across his face. “You think Markko’s responsible?”

“It makes sense.” Chase’s steady breathing came through over the line, a sure sign he was trying to control his temper.

“I’m sorry, Chase. I know you were friends.”

“We worked together. He was good at what he did.”

Braden let Chase’s casual dismissal slide. His brother had been friends with Jason for nearly ten years. No matter what he said, Braden knew Jason’s death would tear Chase apart. He also understood that Chase would refuse to talk about it.

“I don’t understand how this ties in to Beth.”

“Jason died in the alley across the street from where she parks her car. The same alley Markko was in that first night,” Chase continued in a harsh tone. “Whether you like it or not, Markko and that woman are connected.”

“Her name is Beth, Chase. Would it kill you to say it?”

“Are you sure about that?”

“About her
name?
” Braden slammed the orange juice onto the counter, sloshing some out onto the granite. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve got someone checking into her, and so far, they’re having trouble finding anything.”

“Maybe that’s because there’s nothing to find,” Braden ground out.

“Look, you may think I’m being paranoid, but better paranoid than stupid. They
are
connected. We need to figure out how, before someone else dies.”

“And just how do you propose we do that?” Braden snorted. He could only imagine how Beth would react to
So, there’s a homicidal asshole following us around. Any idea what he wants?

“She working tomorrow?”

“Yeah. The morning shift.”

“Then meet me at her place. We’ll sniff around. We’ll know if Markko’s been there.”

“I haven’t been to her place. How do you propose we find it?”

“I’ve got the address.”

“Do I even want to know how you managed that?”

“She had to list her address on her employment records.”

The blood drained from Braden’s face. “Please tell me you didn’t break into Angie’s records, Chase.” Angie would go ballistic if she ever found out.

“Fine. I didn’t break into Angie’s employment records.”

Braden sensed the quiet amusement in Chase’s voice. He’d never been appropriately afraid of Angie. “Shit. You better have put everything back exactly the way you found it.” Angie would notice if anything in her office above the café was out of place. God help them if she ever realized they were responsible.

“She’ll never know the difference. What time is
Beth
leaving in the morning?”

Braden didn’t like the way Chase sneered Beth’s name, as though it were something foul, but he let it go. He’d deal with it tomorrow, after Chase was confronted with the reality that Beth had nothing to do with Markko.

“I don’t know. I’ll call you when she leaves.”

“Fine.”

Braden shoved the carton of orange juice back in the fridge. “Has Jason been taken care of?”

“I handled it.” Chase’s voice was quiet, and Braden wondered exactly how he’d handled it.

“Chase…”

Chase cut him off. “Call me in the morning.”

The line went dead before Braden could say anything else. Tossing the phone on the counter, he flipped the lights off in the kitchen and made his way down the dark hallway, quietly pushing open the door to his bedroom.

Soft light from the balcony spilled onto the empty bed, revealing twisted sheets spilling over the side of the mattress.

He glanced toward the bathroom, the door hung open and the lights were off. As he turned to head back into the hallway, a shadow of movement on the balcony caught his attention.

Braden stepped through the open door, the fresh scent of impending rain heavy on the night air.

His breath caught in his throat when his eyes landed on Beth. She stood at the railing, eyes closed and head tilted toward the sky, the wind caressing her face and fondling her hair. Barefoot and in nothing but the shirt he’d worn last night, the soft glow of the street lights illuminated her silhouette beneath the thin fabric. A spark of awareness touched her, and she glanced over her shoulder, her dark blue eyes capturing him.

“Sorry.” She pulled at the hem of his shirt. “I woke up and you were gone. I just needed a little fresh air.”

When Braden couldn’t make his tongue wrap around words, she continued, “The view is incredible.”

“Yes, it is.” The wind caught her hair and lightning flashed in the distance. He pulled Beth into his arms, running his hands up underneath the hem of the shirt, delighting in her breathy moan as his fingers skimmed across her inner thigh, slipping higher to gently caress her. She arched into him, tilting her face for a kiss, and all thoughts of Chase and Markko fled into the night air.

Beth glanced at the time and dialed the café.

“The Grind.”

“Hi, Marianne.”

“Hey, girl!”

“I’m running a little late this morning. Is the café really busy?”

“Nah. It’s actually a little slow.” Marianne paused, Angie’s screaming in the background filtering through the line.

“You tell him!”

Beth winced as Marianne’s shout slammed into her ear. “What?”

“Ah sorry, honey,” Marianne said with a laugh, “Angie’s shouting at Joe again. He’s dropping off some produce.”

“What is it this time?”

“Whether or not the cherries he delivered are in season. But we both know that’s just the excuse.” Marianne lowered her voice. “I swear, one of these days, I’m going to walk into the storeroom and find those two going at it.”

Angie’s voice rang out loud and clear. “And if Joseph Taylor would stop delivering substandard produce, I’d stop yelling at him.”

“Sure you would. For a week, maybe two. Then you’d find a new reason,” Marianne countered.

“Ridiculous!”

The light changed as Marianne and Angie continued to bicker, Beth momentarily forgotten. Still, she felt as though she were standing in Angie’s kitchen, rather than sitting in her car. She could see it all, Angie’s glare and thin, pressed lips, Marianne’s casual posture and dismissive expression.

When did I come to know these women so well?

“Well, it’s true! Fighting, flirting, it’s all the same to you!” Marianne’s voice cut through her thoughts and Beth choked out a laugh.

“You’re on speaker and I can hear you laughing, Beth. Don’t think I’ll forget it.”

“Oh, don’t listen to her, she’s just frustrated.”

Beth only laughed harder. God, she loved these crazy women.

“What you need is a long night of hot sex. It’s done wonders for Beth.”

Beth choked and nearly dropped the phone.
“What?”

“Well, it has. You’re running late. And I’ve never heard you laugh so much in my life. I put two and two together.” Marianne’s voice sang with the smugness of someone who knew she was right. “And of course, I got to see the opening act last night. Was it as hot as it looked?”

“Marianne!” Beth tried to contain her embarrassment and redirect the question. “He just stopped by to say hello.”

“Where are you, Beth?” Angie’s straightforward question startled Beth out of her embarrassment.

Grateful for the change of subject, Beth spluttered, “I just turned onto Prescott…”

“Prescott? Bit out of your way this morning, aren’t you? I didn’t think Prescott was in your neck of the woods,” Angie said, her tone dry.

“Angie!” Beth squeaked, at the same time Marianne caught up to the conversation.

“Prescott’s up by Braden.”

“We’re even,” Angie announced. “Now, I’ve got muffins that need baking. Don’t come in this morning, Beth. Go on home and we’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t keep her on the phone too long, Marianne.”

Marianne squealed and said, “Never made it home last night, huh?”

Beth didn’t reply.

“Oh, don’t bother. I know you didn’t. So, how was he? Thorough I’ll bet, judging by the way he devoured you in the kitchen last night.”

“Oh my God,
Marianne!”
Mortification rushed through her.

“I want details!” Marianne paused, as though racking her brain for which question to ask first. “Was it good? Oooh, how many times? Did you sleep at
all?”

“We are not going to have this conversation.” Relieved she didn’t have to work, Beth headed home. It’d be nice to go back to her place and hold onto the giddy feelings still rushing through her for a little while longer. Reality could wait until tomorrow.

“Alright, fine.” Marianne acquiesced. Then, in a tone far kinder and more considerate than Beth thought her capable of, she asked, “Did you have a good night?”

Beth heard the
Are you okay? Are you happy?

“Last night was…” Beth searched for a word to encompass everything she felt. “It was…” Amazing? Wonderful? No singled word described the incredible high she was riding, so she settled on saying, “It was good.”

“
Good
? What do you mean
good
?”

“I don’t know what to say, Marianne. We had… fun.” Talking to Marianne about her sex life felt more like talking to a parent than a friend.

Weird. Very weird.

“Ah. You mean
good
,” Marianne teased. “I guess that’ll do for now. So long as you’re happy, sweetie.”

Sometimes the warmth and understanding Marianne and Angie directed toward Beth dazzled her.
What genuine friends.
That thought, coupled with the lingering warmth of her time with Braden kept her soaring through rush hour traffic.

Twenty minutes later, Beth climbed the steps to her apartment, looking forward to a long bath and a slow morning. Maybe she’d surprise Braden with lunch at his office. Or would that be presumptuous? They’d slept together. Did that mean anything? They’d never really talked about it. Maybe she should call first, see if he wanted to grab lunch? Her thoughts occupied, she didn’t notice anything was wrong until she put her hand on the doorknob and the door creaked open.

Beth didn’t move. Her mind slammed into focus. Every instinct she had fired the same message simultaneously.

Run!

As she willed her fingers to let go, the door burst open, tugging her across the threshold, a hand, heavy and strong, clamped down on her shoulder, throwing her inside, the door slamming behind her.

Cold fear coursed through her.

Markko.

All of her nightmares coalesced into reality.

A wave of adrenaline, so brutal it was nauseating, crashed through her.

Fine.

Use the adrenaline. Fight the panic.

Get out of the situation.

“Been a long time.” Markko stalked forward. “I hadn’t planned to see you quite so soon, but I had to rid myself of an unexpected nuisance last night.” A cruel sneer twisted his face. He blocked the only exit, and he knew it. “Let’s get reacquainted.”

Consider your options. Front door’s blocked.

Bedroom window. Beth turned, lunging for the door to her bedroom as Markko leaped, catching her around the legs and driving her into the floor. She hit the ground hard, the skin of her palms flared hot and painful against the carpet, and the contents of her purse spilled across the floor.

Focus.

Get to the purse
.

Beth kicked back viciously at Markko’s face and shoulders as she stretched for her purse, fingertips brushing the handle. The pepper spray she always carried was just out of reach.

Just as her fingers brushed the straps of her bag Markko got a solid hold on her left calf and wrenched her toward him. Twisting, Beth glanced over her shoulder and smashed her foot with all the force she had into his face. Bones crunched beneath her shoe, his grip loosened and he howled in pain.

Now.

Move.

Beth pushed her knees beneath her and dove for her purse, fingers closing around the cold cylinder of the pepper spray.

“Bitch!” The words slurred out through wet, raspy breathing.

Fumbling with the safety latch on the spray, Beth struggled to her feet.
Why do they make these things so damn hard to use?
While focusing on getting the safety latch to open, she was unprepared for Markko, who grabbed her by the hair and jerked her back against him.

“You bitch, you broke my nose.”

Warm blood smeared across her skin where he’d spoken against her ear. Disgusted, she tried to drive her head back into his face.

Ducking his head to the side, Markko pulled her tighter against him, his arm snaking around her throat. Bordering on hysterical, Beth gripped the can of pepper spray in her fingers and stabbed it into his face, hoping to catch an eye. The blow glanced off and cut him high across the cheek, impacting bone and breaking the safety clasp.

Markko grunted and relaxed his grip enough for Beth to move. She plowed her elbow into the animal behind her, broke loose and lunged forward. When Markko made another grab for her, Beth turned and fired the spray directly at him.

A cloud of pepper spray erupted into his face and billowed out, burning her eyes and tearing at her lungs.

Go.

Beth stumbled past Markko as he slumped to the floor, choking and tearing at his eyes.

Get to the door.

Keep moving.

Beth repeated the mantra as she tore through the door, tears running down her face, muscles shaking with fear and adrenaline. Half blind and panicked she took the stairs too fast, her foot catching a loose board halfway down and pitching her body into open air.

The last half of the staircase beat the air from her lungs before she stopped against the side of the house. Beth fought the darkness clouding her vision and the searing pain in her side and forced herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the side of the house.

No time.

Move.

She blinked the tears out of her eyes and stumbled.

Get to the street.

Get help.

Vision still hazy, she plowed around the corner, straight into something huge and solid. Large hands wrapped around her shoulders, steadying her and keeping her on her feet.

“Beth?” Braden’s voice, warm and concerned, shot a spike of fear straight through her.

What is he doing here?

Frantic, Beth tried to pull away from him.

“You have to go!” Desperation tore the words from her throat. She had to get him back to the car. Markko would be down the steps any minute. God only knew what he’d do to Braden. Brushing his arms away from her, she pushed against his chest. “We have to go, now!”

“Jesus, you’re bleeding.” He tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her closer, fingers carefully prodding the blood on the side of her face.

“It’s not mine.” Beth yanked her arm from his grip and tried to pull him toward his car. “We have to go.”

“Damn it, Beth. Talk to me!” He planted his feet and pulled her back around.

“Shit! Braden, behind you!” A guy from Braden’s car screamed the warning.

Too late. Markko stood behind them, face bleeding and eyes streaming, anger radiating off him in waves. As he sucked fresh air, he raked his gaze from Beth to Braden, brutality twisting his face.

“Edwards!”

The shift happened faster than Beth thought possible. In the time it took for Braden to pull her toward him, Markko had transformed and lunged, ears back and jaws snapping.

Beth braced for the full impact of the charging wolf. Instead, Braden shoved her away from him, her feet leaving the ground before she slammed into the asphalt, the impact sending pain surging up her arms. She twisted around in time to watch Braden take the full impact of a snarling Markko and go down hard on his back, Markko snapping at his neck. Before she could move, Braden pulled his legs up to his chest and launched the wolf across the driveway.

Beth pushed herself to her hands and feet. Braden was still on the ground, unmoving, unprotected.

Get to him.

Get to the car.

Terrified Markko had seriously injured him before he’d had the chance to throw him off, Beth steeled herself and glanced back.

Disbelief hit her with the force of a blow and acid raced up her throat. She’d expected the worst—a torn and bloodied throat. Glassy eyes that stared at her unseeing.

Instead, Braden pushed himself to a crouch and leaped forward, shifting from man to wolf, shattering the world around her. He hit the pavement on four paws, hackles raised, head bent toward Markko.

Please, no.

Not this. Never this.

Beth’s heart slammed against her ribs and her pulse pounded in her ears. The world around her smeared out of focus as the first agonizing pains of the shift ravaged her body.

No!

Focus! Stall the change.

Beth counted backward from ten, focusing on pulling air in through her nose and pushing it back out through her mouth. She’d never shifted forms outside of the lunar cycle before and she’d never had any success fighting the change. But now, palms pressed to the gravel driveway, back arched in pain, she threw every ounce of strength she had behind keeping her human form. Saliva pooled in her mouth and her fingers curled into the asphalt beneath her, scraping her knuckles.

She choked on a sob, as the skin along her spine pulled taut, a thousand needle pricks raced down her neck, across her shoulders then followed the length of her spine; everywhere the sensation raced, fur burst from her skin.

Fight it!

Agony stole a scream from her throat and forced it through her clenched teeth as tendons and ligaments suddenly constricted, pulling her legs taught and seizing her fingers into her palms.

The muscles along her arms rippled and pulled taut, dropping her closer to the ground. She couldn’t stop the change. Fighting it was only leaving her vulnerable.

Fine. Use it.

Shift. Try to run for it.

For the first time, Beth focused on the memories of her previous shifts—full moons she’d spent scared and alone in her apartment, memories she actively buried every month. She searched for how those changes had felt. Painful as they had been, they’d also been faster than this one.

Relax.

Let muscle memory take over.

Beth exhaled, reached for the familiarity of past shifts and tried to let go. Her body arched and her teeth ground together as her neck jerked beyond her control and finally the shift began. As her mind cleared and instinct took over, lightning struck her ribs.

Beth screamed—the sound that ripped from her throat half human agony and half suffering animal. Another punch of lightning hit her in her back. Time stopped. She collapsed to the ground, completely limp and barely conscious.