Lover Unleashed (46 page)

“Don’t worry,” Manuel said. “The doors are locked.”

“I am not afraid. I am . . . saddened, for some reason.”

“Urban poverty will do that to you.”

They went by yet another rotting, barely roofed box attended by two humans sharing a single coat. She never thought she would find any value in the Sanctuary’s oppressive perfection. But mayhap her mother had created the haven to protect the Chosen against sights like this. Lives . . . like those.

The environs soon improved slightly, however. And shortly thereafter, Manuel pulled off the road into a lot that ran parallel to a sprawling, new facility that appeared to cover a great plot of land. All around, lights on towering, craned arms cast peachy illumination upon the low-slung building and the shiny tops of the two vehicles that were parked and the clipped shrubs that bordered the walkways.

“Here we are,” he said, stopping their ride and turning to her. “I’m going to introduce you as a colleague, okay? Just roll with it.”

She grinned. “I shall endeavor to do that.”

They got out together and . . . oh, the air. Such a complex bouquet of good and bad, of metallic and sweet, of dirty and divine.

“I love this,” she said. “I love this!”

She put her arms out and swung herself in a circle, pivoting on a foot that had been booted just prior to their leaving the compound. As she halted her spin and her arms came to rest at her sides, she found him staring at her and had to laugh in embarrassment.

“I am sorry. I—”

“Come here,” he growled, his eyelids dropping low, his stare hot and possessive.

Instantly, her sex was aroused, her body flushing. And somehow, she knew to take her time as she approached him, knew to draw it out and make him wait, even if it wasn’t for long.

“You want me,” she drawled when they were face-to-face.

“Yeah. Hell, yeah.” His hands grabbed her waist and pulled her in tight. “Gimme your mouth.”

As she did just that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and melded into his solid body. The kiss had ownership all over it, on both sides, and when it ended, she could not stop smiling.

“I like it when you demand of me,” she said. “It takes me back to the shower, when you were—”

He let out a groan and cut her off, putting his hand gently over her mouth. “Yeah, I remember.
Trust me
—I remember.”

Payne gave his palm a lick. “You will do that to me again. Tonight.”

“I should be so lucky.”

“You shall be. And so shall I.”

He laughed a little. “You know what? I’m going to need to put one of my coats on.”

Manuel reopened his door and leaned into the car. When he reemerged, he drew on a pressed white jacket that had his name in cursive by the lapel. And she knew by the way he closed the two halves that he was trying to cover up his body’s response to her.

Pity. She liked to see him in that condition, all proud and hard.

“Come on—let’s go inside,” he said, taking her hand. And then under his breath, he seemed to add, “Before I come inside . . .”

As he didn’t finish the sentence, Payne left her smile right where it was, front and center on her face.

Upon closer examination, the facility seemed to be fortified for a siege, with discreet bars on its windows and a tall fencing stretching far down into the distance. The doors they approached were also barred, and Manuel didn’t test their handles.

Logical to secure the building, she thought. Given what the greater part of town had looked like.

Manuel pushed a button and immediately a tinny little voice said, “Tricounty Equine Hospital.”

“Dr. Manuel Manello.” He turned his head toward a camera. “I’m here to see—”

“Hey, Doc. Come right in.”

There was a buzz and then Manuel held the door open for her. “After you,
bambina
.”

The interior they walked into was sparse and very clean, with a smooth stone floor and rows of seating, as if people spent much time tarrying in this front room. On the walls, pictures of horses and cattle were framed, many of the animals with ribbons of red and blue hanging from their halters. Over across the way, there was a glass panel with the word RECEPTION embossed upon it in formal gold letters, and there were doors . . . so many doors. Those with a male symbol and a female symbol . . . those with signs such as VETERINARY DIRECTOR . . . and FINANCE . . . and STAFF MANAGER.

“Whatever is this place?” she asked.

“A lifesaver. Come on—we go this way.”

He pushed their way through a pair of double doors and went over to a uniformed human male who was seated behind a desk.

“Hey, Dr. Manello.” The man put down a newspaper that had
New York Post
in big letters across the top. “We haven’t seen you for a little bit.”

“This is a colleague of mine, Pa—Pamela. We’re just going to see my girl.”

The human man focused on Payne’s face. And then seemed to shake himself. “Ah . . . she’s where you left her. Doc spent a lot of time with her today.”

“Yeah. He called.” Manuel knocked the desktop with his knuckles. “See you in a few.”

“Sure thing, Doc. Nice to meet you . . . Pamela.”

Payne inclined her head. “It is lovely to meet with you as well.”

There was an awkward silence as she straightened. The human man was absolutely struck by her, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes wide . . . and very appreciative.

“Easy there, big guy,” Manuel said darkly. “You can resume blinking at any time . . . like, as in, now. Really. Truly.”

Manuel put himself in between the two of them, and took her hand at the same time, both blocking the view and establishing dominion over her. And that wasn’t all: Dark spices wafted up from him, the scent a warning to the other man that the female being admired was available only over Manuel’s cold, dead body.

And didn’t that make her feel like there was a blazing sun in the center of her chest.

“Come on, Pay—Pamela.” As Manuel tugged at her and the pair of them started walking, he added in a mutter, “Before John-boy’s jaw drops off his face and lands on the sports section.”

Payne skipped once. And then did it again.

Manuel looked over. “That poor guard back there almost has a near-death experience with his badge being shoved down his throat and you’re happy?”

Payne kissed Manuel’s cheek quickly, seeing behind the faux grim on his handsome face. “You like me.”

Manuel rolled his eyes and pulled her over by the neck, returning the kiss. “Duh.”

“Duh,” she mimicked—

Someone tripped over someone’s foot, hard to say who it was, and Manuel was the one who caught them from falling.

“We’d better pay attention,” her male said. “Before we’re the ones who need resuscitating.”

She elbowed him. “A wise extrapolation.”

“Are you smacking my ass.”

Payne glanced over his shoulder. And then slapped his butt—hard. As he yelped, she winked at him. “Indeed. Verily. I am.” Dropping her lids and her voice, she hammed, “Would you like me to do it again, Manuel. Perhaps . . . on the other side?”

As she joggled her eyebrows at him, the sound of his laughter broke out and filled the empty hallway, ringing far and wide. And when they bumped into each other again, he pulled her to a stop.

“Wait, we need to do this better.” He tucked her under his arm, kissed her forehead, and lined himself up with her. “On three, lead with the right. Ready? One . . . two . . . three.”

On cue, they both stretched out their long right legs, and then it was left . . . and right . . . and left . . .

Perfectly in step.

Side by side.

They went down the corridor. Together.

It had never dawned on Manny that his sexy vampire might have a sense of humor. And didn’t that round out her package perfectly.

Ah, hell, it wasn’t just that. It was her wonder and her joy and the sense that she was up for anything. She was absolutely nothing like those fragile, brittle socialites or the pretzel-thin models he’d dated.

“Payne?”

“Yes?”

“If I told you I wanted to climb a mountain tonight—”

“Oh! I would love to! I should love to see a long view from . . .”

Bingo. Although, God, he had to wonder at the cruelty of finally finding his perfect match . . . in someone so fundamentally incompatible.

When they came up to the second set of double doors that led into the clinical part of the horse-pital, he pushed one half wide, and without missing a beat, they turned sideways and shuffled through . . . and that was when it happened.

That was when he fell completely in love with her.

It was her happy chatter, and the bounce in her step, and the icy eyes that shone like crystal. It was the backstory she’d shared and the dignity she showed and the fact that she’d been judged against a standard he’d used to date—and now wouldn’t be able to bear sitting across a dinner table from. It was the power in her body and the sharpness of her mind and—

Christ . . . he hadn’t even thought about the sex.

Ironic. She’d given him the orgasms of his life and they hadn’t even made the top of his I Love You Because list.

He guessed she was just that kind of spectacular.

“Whatever are you smiling for, Manuel,” Payne said. “Perhaps anticipating some future instance of my hand upon your derriere?”

“Yup. That’s exactly it.”

He pulled her in for another kiss—and tried to ignore the pain in his chest: No need to spoil the time they had with the good-bye that was waiting for them. That was going to come soon enough.

Besides, they’d nearly reached their destination.

“She’s over here,” he said, hanging a left and pushing into the recovery-stall area.

The instant the door opened, Payne hesitated, a frown appearing as whinnies and the occasional hoof stamping broke through the hayscented air.

“Farther down.” Manny tugged at her hand. “Her name’s Glory.”

Glory was the last one on the left, but the instant he said her name, her long, elegant neck stretched out and her perfectly proportioned head emerged from the top of her stall.

“Hey, girl,” he said. In response, she let out a proper greeting, her pointed ears pricking, her muzzle pumping the air.

“Merciful fate,” Payne breathed, dropping his hand and going forward ahead of him.

As she approached the stall, Glory tossed her head, her black mane flaring, and he had a sudden vision of Payne getting bitten. “Be careful,” he said as he broke into a jog. “She doesn’t like—”

The instant Payne put her hand on that silken muzzle, Glory went right in for more, bumping against the palm, seeking a proper cuddle.

“—new people,” Manny finished lamely.

“Hello, darling one,” Payne murmured, her eyes going over the horse as she leaned into the stall. “You are so beautiful . . . so big and strong. . . .” Pale hands found a black neck and stroked in a slow rhythm. “Why are her forelegs bandaged?”

“She broke the right one. Badly. About a week ago.”

“May I go inside?”

“Ah . . .” God, he couldn’t believe it, but Glory appeared to be in love, her eyes all but rolling back into her head as she got a good scratching behind the ears. “Yeah, I think it’ll be okay.”

He sprang the latch on the door and they both slipped in. And when Glory went to move back, she hobbled . . . on what had been her good side.

She’d lost so much weight that her ribs were showing like picketfence rails under her coat.

And he was willing to bet when the newness of her visitors dimmed, her burst of energy would fade fast.

The voice mail message from the doctor had been all too apt: She was failing. That broken bone was healing, but not nearly fast enough, and the redistribution of mass had caused the layers of the opposite hoof to weaken and separate.

Glory extended her muzzle into his chest and gave him a quick shove. “Hey, girlie.”

“She is extraordinary.” Payne patted her way around the filly. “Just extraordinary.”

And now he had another thing on his conscience: Maybe bringing Payne here was not a gift, but a cruelty. Why introduce her to an animal who was likely going to be . . .

God, he couldn’t even think it.

“You are not the only one who is territorial,” Payne said softly.

Manny glanced around Glory’s head. “I’m sorry?”

“When you told me I was to meet a female, I . . . I had hoped she was one with a horse face.”

He laughed and smoothed Glory’s forehead. “Well, she has that, all right.”

“What are you going to do with her?”

As he tried to form the words, he gathered the mane that fell just above the filly’s nearly black eyes.

“Your lack of reply is answer enough,” Payne said sadly.

“I don’t know why I brought you here. I mean . . .” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I know why—and it’s pretty fucking pathetic. All I have is my job. . . . Glory is the only thing that is not my job. This is personal for me.”

“You must be brokenhearted.”

“I am.” Abruptly, Manny looked over the back of his failing horse to the dark-headed vampire who had laid her cheek against Glory’s flank. “I am . . . absolutely destroyed at the loss.”

FORTY

M
ere moments after Butch called her, Jane became solid on the terrace of V’s penthouse. As her form took weight within its shape, the night air cold-fingered her hair and made her eyes water.

Or . . . maybe that was just her tears.

Looking in through the glass, she saw everything much too clearly: the table, the lashes, the whips, the . . . other things.

When she’d come here with Vishous before, those trappings of his hard-core predilections had seemed nothing more than a tantalizing and slightly frightening backdrop to the incredible sex they themselves had. But her version of “play” was poodle to his werewolf.

And how clearly did she know that now.

What had Butch used? What kind of shape was her mate in? Was there going to be a lot of blood—

Wait a minute. Where was V?

Passing through the sliding glass door, she . . .

No blood on the floor. Or dripping from instruments. No suspension hooks hanging from the ceiling. Everything was exactly as it had been the last time she’d been here, as if nothing had happened—