Soul Resurrected (Sons of Wrath, #2) (43 page)

The nephilim Ferno let go took off down the alley but Gavin held tight to the one in his arms as more wolves advanced.

Ferno and Zayne fought three at a time, parrying with their daggers, while limbs punched, kicked, slammed the beasts to the ground. They acted as a barrier, keeping the wolves on the other side of them.

The black wolf leaped from the melee and, still clutching the nephilim, Gavin drew his Glock. He shot twice, kicking the wolf back a step. In the second’s pause, he traded his gun for the dagger strapped to his chest.

Another wolf lunged forward.

“Son of a … ” Gavin issued a powerful kick to the black wolf, hurling the beast back against the wall where bricks crumpled on the impact. He curled his fingers tight around the nephilim’s throat and jabbed the second wolf with his right hand, parrying its swiping claws. A backhand jab was followed by a swift flip of the dagger and a clean slice across the lycan’s throat that severed its head from the body.

Blackie snarled and charged forward.

A flicker of gray flashed in front of Gavin and knocked the wolf back, and the two wolves brawled, a swarming ball of fur that rolled across the alley. Yelps and growls chased their snapping jaws and thrashing bodies.

More wolves joined the fight.

Gavin glanced to the left. Silver eyes bounced in the darkness as beasts bounded toward the ruckus. He unfurled his arm and held the nephilim out in front of him, resuming the chant from earlier. “Talk, fucker. Where is Ryke’s underground scene?”

A growl preceded the wide-eyed horror that suddenly stared back at Gavin, and the muzzle of a wolf popped through the thin netting of the male’s shirt as a beast gnawed through his organs from the back.

The nephilim opened his mouth. Blood trickled out of the corner and slid down his jaw.

“Fuck!” Gavin threw down the nephilim’s body, exposing the bloody gore coating the lycan’s muzzle. He slashed his dagger across the lycan’s throat, grabbed hold of its crown, and yanked it toward him. Across the width of the alley, he threw the beast, until it landed in a slump against the dumpster. Jabbing his boot into its lower half, he wrenched the head away from its body in a fit of rage.

He pitched the beast’s head to the right, sending it bouncing and rolling along the ground until halted by Marrick’s upturned boot.

The male shook his head. “Heads will roll.” His silvery eyes met Gavin’s. “I warned them not to fuck around with demons.”

The clarity of the lycan’s words brought Gavin to the realization that the brawling had stopped. Interspersed with fallen wolves stood much larger beasts with more girth, chests heaving, eyes directed toward Marrick.

“What’s this?” Gavin’s eyes swept the carnage and caught sight of Ferno and Zayne, arms crossed, as though they too puzzled the circumstances.

“I told you before. We’re not your enemy. We’d like to help.”

“Thanks. But I just lost an informant.”

“My apologies. What do you wish to know?”

“Where the fuck to find Ryke and his underground scene, or in your case, the kid lycan.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have answers. But I will notify you if I become privy to the whereabouts of the nephilim.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Gavin signaled Ferno and Zayne.

“I do have something that might be of interest to you,” Marrick said as Gavin passed.

Gavin gave a glance back. “Unless it’s my brother, I could give two shits.” He kept on through the alley and straight through the front door of Moonshines.

Ferno and Zayne flanked him as they stood in the doorway, all three coated in tarry lycan blood.

The music cut out.

All eyes darted in their direction.

“Evening, ladies and gentlemen.” Gavin drew his largest blade from his hip holster and held it level as he swept his gaze over the crowd, noticing the few scattered nephilim among the wolves. “No one leaves until one of you cocksuckers talks.”

* * *

Through the blackness, the female’s voice reached Zeke’s ears.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I meant to call you … I just … something came up.” Her conversation faded in and out.

“I have the blond one. Left by the hunter. Yes, I know. But what was I supposed to do? Leave him to die? We’ll be fine. He can hardly move.”

Pause.

“Okay. I’ll wait to hear from you, then. Midnight?”

CHAPTER 33

Calla swallowed a gulp as she eyed Logan’s erection.

Oh, God.

Pain, or not, though, curiosity had finally gotten the best of her. What was she saving herself for, anyway? Why hold onto her virginity for so long? Not like she was bound for marriage and the real deal anytime soon.

Logan crawled toward her until his arms settled either side of her. She gripped his biceps, and he leaned in, kissing her lips, her neck, then kissed her nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

She bit her lip and arched into him.

His crown probed her wet and clenched sex. Logan stared down at her. “You sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Your eyes are distant, like you’re thinking.”

“I’m not.”

“If you’re not ready—”

“I’m ready.”

Wedging himself between her thighs, he reached down and held himself at her entrance, smoothing the tip against the wetness he spread with his fingers. He gave a very slight lurch and his tip was inside.

Calla held her breath, muscles tense.

“Slow, baby. I’ll go slow.”

She nodded, head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut.
This is it. This is really happening
. Her and Logan. The excitement of that alone had her ignoring the sting as he inched further inside.

Sweat beaded beneath her fingertips where she held his taut muscles.

A blast of warm breath hit her neck.

“Fucking gods, Calla, you’ll be my absolute death.”

She tugged at the back of his nape, urging him to kiss her. Deeper he entered, the resistance giving way to a sharp sting that flinched her thigh muscles. “Ah!”

He pulled back but not completely out before Calla clutched his tight ass.

“No … just … give me a moment. Don’t stop, though.”

The longer he stayed inside, the more she seemed to stretch around him. As the stinging began to disappear, she imagined the Lywa antibodies rushing to the assault. A tingling sensation tickled her there and forced a giggle that made Logan’s brow furrow.

“I’m good.” She cleared her throat. “All good.”

He worked his hips against hers in a slow, rhythmic motion. The way his body undulated, grinding against her hips with a steady tempo, told her he had a knack for sex—as if every part of him was designed for it. In and out and he pumped himself inside.

Inside. A male was inside of her.

No longer a virgin.

The thought brought a smile to her face, and she plunged her head back into the pillow, arching herself toward him.

His hand stroked her face. “Let me see you, beautiful. Open your eyes.”

She relaxed her arched back—marveled the strength in his jawline, his mussed hair, and a face that would stay with her for as long as she lived. His deep-set dark eyes, so masculine and divine, seemed too surreal, untouchable. Like looking straight into the eyes of an angel. One who made gentle and passionate love to her.

Her first experience. Beautiful. Slow.

“So tight.” His ragged voice brought a smile to her lips in spite of the sting.

Beneath her fingers, his muscles hardened.

Veins protruded in his neck.

Hips thrust into her faster. Faster. Harder.

“Logan?”

As if he couldn’t hear her, he kept on.

Hands gripped her throat. Tighter. Tighter.

No longer did she focus on the pain between her thighs as breath began to diminish in her lungs.

“Logan,” she rasped.

Faster he pumped. Tighter he gripped.

His lips formed a hard line. Muscles trembled, and his hair dampened with sweat.

His eyes came into focus and widened, like he’d been ripped from a nightmare.

He released her neck and pulled out of her, backing himself to the edge of the bed. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck.” He pounded at his temples. “Fuck, I can’t get them out of my head.”

“Logan? What’s wrong?”

“I almost came in you, thinking about …” He shook his head frantically. “Oh, fuck.” He grabbed hold of himself and slid onto the floor, kicking away from the bed, from her. “Your neck … I could’ve …”

She’d never seen horror in the male’s eyes before. Not like the sheer terror that stared back at her, setting off alarms on her insides like a fire out of control.

His knuckles whitened where he gripped his erection, and the expression on his face, lip downturned, brows knitted together, told her he was in pain.

She slid off the bed and stepped toward him.

He growled. “Don’t come near me.”

“Logan, it’s all right.”

“No! It’s not fucking all right. I’m not fucking all right.” He threw out a hand. “This shit between us … it isn’t happening. So just stay back.”

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Calla, please. I don’t want to be a dirty bastard, but please, just leave.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me say something I’ll regret.”

“Say what you want. I’m not leaving you. Not like this.”

“Leave, woman! The fuck does it take? I don’t want you! Leave!”

“No. I’m not leaving you.”

His eyes screwed tight and his lips clamped, as if the pain had become more severe. He swiped his dagger from the holster of his jeans on the floor and stormed into the bathroom.

“Logan? What are you doing?” Panic swelled inside of her and she chased him to the door.

Locked.

“I’ll knock this goddamn door down, Logan! Say something!”

The sound of water reached her ears. An image of herself lying naked in the bathtub, wrists sliced open and bleeding, passed through her mind, and Calla hoisted her bare foot and kicked the door wide open. Her gaze swept over the couch, sink, and she darted toward the tub.

Empty.

She rounded the corner to see steam rising above the shower.

At the clang of metal, she dashed forward and threw back the door to the stall.

Logan stood naked in the spray, his head hanging low and his body shivering. What she could see of his eyes was nothing but a vacant glossiness.

A glance to the shower floor showed the dagger lying there, and blood seeping into the drain.

“Logan! Oh, God!” She rushed toward him.

He didn’t move.

As water beat against her face, she examined his body. A gaping wound stretched across his thigh, dribbling blood as it began to seal shut. His cock had gone flaccid.

Just like that, it clicked.

“You …
need
pain, don’t you? It’s how you
feel
, isn’t it?”

His lost expression turned to sadness as his eyes seemed to come into focus on her. “Do yourself a favor. Stay the fuck away from me. I’m not good for you, Calla.” Black pupils dilated and his deadened look returned. “I’ll hurt you. And get off while I’m doing it. That what you want?”

“You can try to scare me, but it’s not going to work. We’re more alike than you think.” She placed a hand against his chest but he cringed away from her, so she gripped his hand tight and stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his stiff body. He didn’t return the embrace, but Calla didn’t care. Beneath the cast iron muscle trapped in her arms was a vulnerability—pain—not unlike her own. His muscles trembled against her. “You’ve been hurt, too. We need each other,” she whispered.

His body shuddered in her grasp, and she dared a kiss to his shoulder as she held him, running her fingertips over his hard, slick back. “I’m not afraid to take on your demons, either, Logan,” she said at his ear.

“This shit won’t go away.” An edge of sadness laced his voice. “I’m cursed. My body thinks you’re … it’s acting like you’re my mate. And I can’t stop seeing …” He shuddered again. “Gods, no. The blade … it’s the only way I can tear it out of me. Keep it from messing up my head.” He pounded his temples and tilted his head forward. “Oh, fuck, Calla.” He fell to his knees on the stall floor and his palms rubbed along her legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Blood. You’ve got blood on you.” The chafe of his hands against her thighs and the scant amount of blood there burned in the competing tepid water. “I hurt you.”

Calla bent forward, gripped his arm, and knelt in front of him. “Shhh.” She rubbed his nape. “You didn’t hurt me. It’s okay.”

His body stiffened. “It’s not okay. Shit’s not okay. Your first time … it shouldn’t have been like this.”

Before he could pull away from her again, Calla squeezed the back of his neck. “Lay with me.” His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. “Just lay together. Nothing else.”