Tempting Gray - Untouchables 02 (10 page)

Why did these terrifying things have to happen
to her? Grayson Blackmoore must be cursed, Ara thought as she ran. Muscles
burned in her body and her breath rattled in her rib cage like a sickly person
on their deathbed.

My, what a morbid thought, Ara.
That might
be because a Were is chasing after me right this very second
.

Ara didn’t know what happened with Grayson but
she did know the Were after her was going to kill her if she didn’t do something—and
fast. The creature could easily out run her in Were form and without being able
to shapeshift she had no other choice but to try the dodge and evade method.
Basically she tossed everything and anything she could behind her as she ran.
This included unlit torches from the walls, broken chairs covered in spider
nests, and vases—some filled with a dusty powder for which she hoped wasn’t a
dead person’s ashes.
Please, oh please, don’t let that be ashes.
She had
a feeling she knew the truth though.

Then she touched something. In her panic she couldn’t
even remember what it was, but a vision came, and in it she saw a ratty
painting at the end of a short hallway. And that painting moved to reveal a
tunnel. That was it!

A tremendous weight came crashing into her. A
scream tore from her throat. The Were knocked her to the ground. The force sent
her skidding along the floor. Before she clambered to a stand, the Were was
there. It walked on top of her back, its weight making it even harder to
breathe. Hot breaths reeking of old meat panted across her cheek as the beast
scented her. His heavy paws kept her pinned even as she fought to move.

I can’t die this way!

From a place inside her she didn’t know she
had, Ara reached behind her to latch onto the beast’s hair—and pulled as hard
as she could. The Were yelped and jerked away. Ara quickly took off but she
didn’t make it far before she heard a scuffling behind her. There was something
different about it that made her turn around and look.

Grayson stood over the Were with a knife
pressed to its throat. “Donato sent you to kill me. Now you’ll die and then I’m
going to find your masters and kill them too,” Grayson said, his voice like
ice. The blade sank deep into the Were’s neck. He severed the head with a
ruthless slice of the blade.

Grayson looked like a dark assassin. Blood
stained his hands, even a line across his cheek as if he’d wiped it. He looked
terrifying and dangerous. Yet, Ara wanted nothing more than to run and throw
her arms around him.

“I think you just saved my life. Thank you!”
What did you say to someone who just rescued you? Her words sounded so quaint.
Surely it didn’t do justice to her gratefulness.

“Just get us out of here, Ara.”

His voice, deeper than normal, made her study
him more closely. A dark red splotch began to appear on his thigh. She gasped
and went to him, only he kept her at arm’s length. “It’s nothing. I was bitten.
We need to go. I have little time before sunrise. I
cannot
be stuck
here.”

The full ramifications of what he said hit her
like a brick to the head. Ara shook her head and started moving. It didn’t take
a rocket scientist to figure it out. Grayson had been hurt and was losing blood
at a steady pace. Put that on top of that fact that he hadn’t fed in days, and
that made for one scary vampire.

As she took them closer to where the painting
would be, warmth grew in her belly. That’s how she always knew when she was
getting close. A warmth would grow and with it her excitement. They came across
a fork in the hallway and she took them right down the path to the finish line.
When the painting came into view she let out an exclamation.

“I did it! It’s right behind the painting. Some
kind of tunnel that will lead us to the outside.”

Only, she didn’t hear a reply. Surely the
vampire at least had something snarky to say. Ara turned around and paled.
Grayson had slumped against the wall and slid all the way to the floor. His
head lay against the wall for support and his eyes were closed.

Ara rushed to him. “Grayson?” she called,
frantic.

His eyelids fluttered, slow to rise. “Why do
you have to yell?” he asked. His voice sounded gentle like a whisper.

Well, okay then. This docile sounding Grayson
alarmed her far more than the scary one. “What is it? What’s wrong? The exit’s
right there. We need to go now before the sun rises and we’re stuck here all
day long.” She grabbed his hand but his fingers merely twitched in her grasp.

His eyes closed and she shook him awake. “What?
What is it, Arabella?” he asked. “Arabella. I like the name. You should use it,
Were. Its beauty becomes you.”

A knot the size of an apple lodged in her
throat. “You’re just saying crazy stuff because you’re weakened.”

“Hmm…probably. No, certainly,” he corrected
himself. “Does not change anything…”

“What are you talking about? Can you at least
stand and lean on me while we walk to the painting?” she asked, her mind
working furiously. His watch said they had only twenty-nine minutes until
sunrise. Not good.

Once more he tried to stand but even she could
see the way his arms shook trying to lift his weight up. He was too weak. He’d
never be able to walk on his own. Question was: could she carry him out
herself?

There was only one way to find out.

Ara grabbed Grayson’ arm and put it around her
shoulder. “Hold on now and try your best to move with me. I want you to mostly
lean on the wall and me for support. Let’s just get your standing first.”

“You do not have to speak to me like I’m a
child.” His sharp retort sounded much more like the mean Grayson she knew.

“There, see, you’re feeling better already.
Before you know it you’ll be spewing some real zingers, too. Come on, now.” She
counted down then they both lifted as they tried to pull him to a stand.

Perspiration covered Grayson’s forehead as they
strained. By time she got him propped up against the wall, barely standing, she
knew their time was limited. “Come on, we have to hurry. There’s no time!”

With her arm supporting his back and holding
the arm he’d thrown around her shoulder, they took one slow step at a time. It
worked—sort of. Grayson was able to keep the majority of his weight leaning
against the wall but it slowed their pace down to that of a snail.

“I swear, if I’m stuck in this place because of
you until sun down, I’ll make you regret it.” Her shoulder knotted under his
weight.

Step by agonizing step, they made it closer to
the painting. They might make it—barely.

“Does your car have tinted windows to block out
sunlight?” she asked.

His head listed to the side to nearly rest on
hers. They were so wrapped up in each other they must look like a couple. That couldn’t
be any further from the truth, she thought.

“Of course.”

“Good; then as long as I get you in that car before
sunrise, I can drive you home, yeah?”

Finally, they reached the painting and she
propped Grayson against the wall so she could pull the fake painting back. Behind
the wall was a dark black tunnel. She smiled. “We’re almost there. Come on!”

He moved even slower than before. The leg with
his injury slowed them down. It didn’t seem to move naturally anymore. He had
to drag it around. With only the beam of the flashlight she guided them down a
short tunnel. They came upon a ladder built into the wall that went up to what
looked like a sewer grate.

“Let me try opening it.”

Arabella let Grayson lean against the wall
while she raced up the ladder. The sewer grate weighed a ton but after a lot of
heaving she shoved it off. The night sky glowed with the warm hues from the
oncoming sunlight. Any minute now and that sun would crest the horizon.

She scaled down the ladder. “Come on! Move!”

Grayson started climbing, and from behind him
on the ladder, she kept a hand on the back of his leg—as if that could keep him
from falling. Really her efforts were laughable but she had to try something.

“It’s hot,” Grayson said. From all the blood loss,
his skin had paled.

Ara pulled herself out of the dreaded catacomb.
She wished she could have a moment to lay in the grass and feel happy that the
catacomb nightmare was over. But the sun quickly ascended into the sky every
second that she wasted. If she didn’t hurry and get him into the SUV, she’d
have one fried vampire on her hands

Pulling him to a stand took even longer this time.
The trip up the ladder had really taken the energy out of him. “Come on,
Grayson! Let’s move it!” She sounded like a drill sergeant shouting orders in a
cadet’s face.

By time they reached the SUV, the sun came up.
Grayson hissed, baring his teeth in a pained grimace. But whatever pain the
brief rays of sunlight caused him gave him the push he needed to sprint the
last twenty feet to the car.

He threw himself in the backseat and she closed
the door after him.

“I guess I’m driving then?”

His grunt signaled his answer.

Four vampires wearing assault rifles over their
shoulders guarded the mysterious building in the middle of nowhere. The
location was perfect—not too far from civilization but not too close either.
Arabella watched from her hiding place among the bushes on a slope some
distance away. Moving quietly, she pulled her backpack off and dug her
binoculars out.

Much better.
Now she could nearly see the vampire’s
pores. This place looked like some kind of compound. It almost had a governmental
feel to it, but Arabella knew firsthand no vampires would be working for the
human government. The compound was squeezed in a large field surrounded by
miles of forest on either end. The perfect hiding place. No one around for
miles. Only one dirt path led up to the building. To get to it, there was a
mechanized fence with barbed wire on top. Video cameras were everywhere,
pointing in all directions around the perimeter.

Arabella watched and took mental notes of her
findings for almost thirty minutes. Her breath caught. A car drove up the path
to the compound, kicking up a cloud of swirling dirt around it. It looked
expensive—a Mercedes Benz. It paused at the gate and a minute passed before the
gates swung open.

That warm feeling sat in her gut. She’d done
it. She found the underground casino. The problem though was she didn’t have
any proof. How did she explain to Grayson that she thought this was it? He
already doubted her and from the outside, the facility looked just like that—a government
facility. But, aside from her ‘hunch’, she found other evidence.

Behind the tan, discrete building, lodged
halfway in the dirt was a large, colorful cup meant to hold ones winnings.
Arabella nibbled on her lip as she zoomed in on that cup. At least, she
thought
it looked like a casino cup. If she was wrong then she’d have to explain to
Grayson why they traveled all the way out here to the middle of nowhere all
because she thought she saw a casino cup.

A weary sigh escaped her. She did not want to
have that conversation with Grayson. Not at all.

Luckily, she knew she was right. This was it.
The casino run by the Donatos. Right now it was only—she checked her watch—ten
past seven. The sun went down right as she arrived here. But she’d bet late at
night this place crawled with people. All dangerous combination of gambling Weres
and vampires.

The hairs tingled on the back of her neck.
Something in that feeling scared her. She checked each of the guards. The first
one, the second one, the third one, and then…through the binoculars she focused
on the guard closest to her. Cold blue eyes were locked on her. Like a deer
caught in headlights, she froze. As if he might turn around and not see her by
not moving.
Yeah, right.
Those eyes narrowed and even though she must be
some one hundred yards away, she knew he saw her. He said something, a shout
alerting the others.

“Oh shit!” she cursed, grabbing her backpack,
and taking off sprinting for her car.

In the distance she heard the gate opening
again. Her heart raced as she deftly ran over fallen tree branches and muddy
slopes. Her shoes slid in the mud and she lost one. By the time she reached her
car and burnt rubber heading back toward the highway, she couldn’t catch her
breath. Mud covered her from hands to feet and she only had one tennis shoe on.

“Great job, girlfriend.”

“What did you think you were doing?” Grayson
Blackmoore roared.

Arabella took a step back. She’d never heard
him so angry. “Listen, I’m covered in mud and I don’t have time to listen to
this. I need to shower.”

They stood on her front porch. The dim outdoor
porch light flickered. When she’d arrived home, Grayson already sat on her
porch smoking a cigarette looking far more terrifying than the vampire that
scared her away. Or so she told herself. Fact is, he didn’t scare her. Not
really. Grayson made her feel safe. The vampire made his living protecting
people. Surely that had something do with it and nothing at all to do with his
kissability, which he scored high on.

“You never should have gone out without me. I
hired you or did you forget that?” he asked sharply.

“Well I can see you’re feeling better,” she
mumbled, kicking a stone.

He looked like his head as going to explode. “Do
you have no fear of the consequences? Do you know what will happen if Donato
learns you’re helping me?”

Shoot. Here it came. “About that,” she began.

His eyebrows formed a deep
V
on his
forehead. “What happened?”

“I might have been…spotted by a guard.” She
trailed off the last part, hoping he wouldn’t hear her.

Judging by the way his eyes snapped fire at
her, she was pretty certain he heard her. “You found what you believe to be
Donato’s underground casino in the middle of nowhere, alone, guarded by four
vampires carrying heavy weaponry, and you were seen by one of these guards on
top of that shit-mess you’ve created.”

“Shit-mess. I hardly think it was a shit-mess.
Nothing bad happened. I made it out of there alive. You should be happy,” she
said with false brightness. Ara wasn’t stupid. She knew what this meant even before
he said it.

Gray leaned forward, the black cigarette
clamped between his lips. “By this time, he’s probably already heard of the Were
girl snooping around his casino. The guards have already reported it. They’ll
have footage of you. They’ll know your face, they’ll find you and then they’ll
learn about your ability and put two and two together. In a matter of hours,
they’ll know that I’ve hired you as a tracker to find the Donatos.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she whispered,
already scared. She couldn’t shift and she had no real fighting skills. She
lived with Sissy and if the Donatos could get past Grayson’s security to kill
his mate, what chance did she stand? She might live on the Alpha Zeke’s land,
but nothing was foolproof when someone wanted you dead.

“Or maybe this could be the worst thing that’s
happened.” He looked away and she wondered what he was thinking. After a quiet
moment passed over them, he crushed his cigarette beneath his black leather
boot. “Shower and get dressed. Pack your things, too. You won’t be staying here
any longer.”

“Wait, what? You can’t expect me to pack up and
leave. This is my house!”

“I expect you to do just that. And you have
twenty minutes.” He returned to his SUV, ending the conversation with cold
finality.

Jaw grinding, Arabella stormed into her house
in a real tizzy. Where was Sissy when she needed to vent? That vampire could
use a good chewing out from Sissy’s attitude right about now. Still, she
showered, packed and finished in her allotted time—barely.

Grayson didn’t say a word as he drove them out
of the pack.

“Where are we going now?” she asked.

“It’s too soon to return to the casino site.
They’ll be on guard now that an intruder was spotted. We’ll have to lie low. I’m
going to make some calls and see if I can’t dig anything useful up about this place,”
Grayson said.

Now that she had calmed down she took note of
him for the first time. Yesterday had been a train wreck in the catacombs. A Were
had bitten his leg, yet he showed no sign of being in pain.

“How’s your leg?” she asked, unable to hide her
curiosity.

He briefly touched it. “Fine.”

Her brow cocked. “I take it you don’t want to
talk about it?”

Grayson sent her a peeved glare. “What is there
to discuss?”

“Oh, you know, if you fed and healed your leg
up. Or if you’re going to snap and end up taking a bite out of me.” She cracked
a smile hoping to lighten him up. However, at the mention of a
bite,
his
gaze darkened and slid down to her chest. And now she was very aware of the
fact that she wore a tight T-shirt, low cut enough to show some cleavage. She
hadn’t chosen the shirt for any particular reason aside from being rushed and
having to choose something hastily. His gaze made her feel like she wore
nothing more than bra and panties.

“A bite…of you…” he contemplated, pulling his
gaze back to the road.

What was going on in that head of his, she
wondered? She’d never know because his phone rang. She could hear a man yelling
on the other end though she couldn’t make out the words. Grayson stiffened,
grumbled something, then put the pedal to the metal. “We have a problem,” he
told her.

She grabbed the edge of the seat for something
to hold on to as they sped way over the speed limit. “What would that be?”

“My brother’s mate has been attacked.” His
hands twisted on the steering wheel like he wanted to crush it.

“Is it because of me?”

He gave a bitter laugh as he began rummaging
around his pockets. Probably looking for another smoke. “Sweetheart, it has
nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and the Donatos.”

Feeling nervous at his intensity, Arabella
offered, “Can I help you find something?” She was afraid he’d erupt like a
ticking time bomb ready to detonate at any moment.

He smiled sardonically. “Can you track down my
pack of cigarettes?”

She didn’t bother answering since they both
knew how stupid the question was. “You really shouldn’t smoke.”

He grimaced, like something tasted bad. “You’re
one of them, aren’t you?”

“One of who?” she asked sweetly. Did he have
any idea how hard it was for her not to reach over and just take his hand? She
doubted it. The man needed comfort. Needed time to heal from his
bruid’s
death, not to be out here hunting down killers. Or, driving down the highway at
dangerous speeds that made her heart skip a beat.

“One of those nags who doesn’t believe anyone
should smoke just because you don’t,” he said. Hostility rang in every one of
his words.

“You, vampire, might live long and prosper with
your undead lungs. I, on the other hand, am still susceptible to the smoke.”
She threw in a few fake coughs for good measure which only earned her a glare.
If only he knew that every time he looked at her, her stomach fluttered.

“You are not.” He started rummaging in the
console for a pack, growing angrier by the second. “I always keep a spare smoke
in here somewhere.” He swerved hard to the right as a car pulled in front of
them. Ara held her breath as her body jerked side-to-side and she saw her life
flash before her eyes.

“Will you slow down?” she asked between
terrified breaths.

Something close to madness glittered in his
eyes. “Are you scared? Tell me, Arabella, what frightens you?”

“People who speed.”

Reaching across her lap, Grayson fished around
in the glove compartment—while speeding. Her white-knuckle grip on the seat did
little to assuage her panic. Plastic crinkled as he pulled away with a pack.
However, when he fished his fingers around inside he suddenly cursed loudly,
making her scream too.

He threw the empty pack against the window, his
jaw grinding side-to-side. For a moment his teeth bared. Then, he seemed to purposely
collect himself. He slowed his movements and his heavy breathing as he reached
into the car’s ashtray. In it sat a mangled butt. He stuck the old thing
between clamped lips and lit up.

“How old is that cigarette? That can’t be
sanitary at all,” she said.

“Old enough,” he said in answer.

As they neared the Blackmoore Estate, he
finally slowed enough for her to catch her breath.

“Still, doesn’t that seem gross?”

He just looked at her. Heavy circles lined
beneath his eyes and wrinkles crinkled at the corners from where he always
looked like he was squinting. He looked ragged and tired. “Do you really think
I care?”

“No, no I don’t. Grayson, I—”

“What?” he interrupted, his hard gaze pressing
her to say something spectacular.

“I just wanted to say—”

Dammit, girl, just do it. You’ve wanted to do
it from the moment you saw him.

“Can’t wait to hear this,” he grumbled.

Arabella narrowed her eyes. “You know, I’ve
done
nothing
to you.”

“What?” he asked. He looked truly surprised.

“That’s right. I’ve done nothing to you, and in
fact, you’ve been nothing but awful to me. What’s to even keep me here?”

“The millions of dollars I paid for your
services,” he reminded her sharply.

“There’s that, true. But your attitude has been
off the charts hostile. You’re dealing with some really painful times right
now. I get it. I do. But it isn’t okay for you to keep this up.” Now that she’d
started being honest, she let the gates open all the way. “On top of that, I
think I know the real reason.”

He looked more intrigued and less angry. “The
reason for what?” he asked in that accented voice of his.

She leaned in close, smug grin in place. “I
know the real reason you don’t like me.”

His eyes widened, again, with surprise. “Now
you have my attention, Were. Do tell me the real reason why I don’t like you.
As you have claimed.”

“Because we’ve kissed.”

Apparently that must have been the last thing
he thought she’d say, because the car swerved hard and this time there wasn’t
another car cutting them off. This was all him. He righted the vehicle and she
could see the cogs turning in his head.

“One would think that since we’ve kissed I’d be
inclined to like you, not dislike you,” he said at length, as if he too was
contemplating why he didn’t like her.

“Maybe so. However, you are not just anyone.
You are Grayson Blackmoore. And I think you don’t like me because we’ve kissed,”
she said. She was having a good time now, smiling and leaning close to him with
her teasing. She could smell clove from his cigarette mixed with his own
masculine scent—it created a heady concoction that a woman could grow used to.

“That still doesn’t explain it.”

“It does when you think about it like this. You’re
a very honor-bound male. It is in everything you do. Even when I first met you
when we were young. You were so rigid and worried. It was obvious in the way
you held yourself that you wanted to do every little thing right.”

“Seems perfectly natural to me considering the
situation,” he said.

“Perhaps, or maybe it shows just how regimented
you are,” she countered.

“You still have yet to explain what this has to
do with kissing.” He cast her a glance, his golden brown Blackmoore eyes
flitting to her mouth before darting away. But, for that single moment he
looked at her mouth, a rush of answering heat grew inside her.

“What I’m trying to say, Grayson Blackmoore,”
she began impatiently, “is that after we kissed, we never properly addressed
it. In any way. We never saw each other again until the other day. So that kiss
is still in there air between us. Like unfinished business,” she said as an afterthought.
“There. That’s what I’m saying.”

Finally they pulled up the long drive to the
Blackmoore Estate. Encased in a black gate, the opulent mansion sat high upon a
green hill with an immaculate lawn and a marble fountain out front deep in the
heart of St. Louis, Missouri. They stopped and a valet rushed to open Grayson’s
door—not hers, she noted—though, she wasn’t a Blackmoore. However, Gray held up
his hand and the valet retracted himself back to a safe distance.

Then he turned to her. “Like unfinished
business?” His gaze felt entirely too warm as he looked at her. The temperature
must be rising because she flushed.

The need to lean in and press her lips to his
nearly overwhelmed her. She found herself squirming in her seat, biting her lip
as the most maddening thought came to mind. It came suddenly, taking her by
surprise—the memory of that kiss. In her mind she stood in his arms again,
enclosed by rocks as the others tried to free them. She hadn’t known who he
was, but when he told her his real name she’d experienced disappointment like
no other. And now he sat before her looking sad but devastatingly handsome with
a mocking, cold smile on his face. It didn’t make her mad or some other
nonsense; it made her hot.

With brazen forwardness, Arabella pulled a move
her friend Sissy would appreciate—she leaned forward and kissed Grayson
Blackmoore. A sharp intake of breath greeted her at the first warm caress. She
pulled back a scant inch, her eyes locked with his, and kissed him again. Her
body nearly swayed at the power of that touch. She craved more of his kisses
and leaned in once more. Kissing was no longer enough. Her body needed to be
closer to his. Without even thinking about it, she cupped his cheek and kissed
him harder—not tongue; just simply feeling his warm mouth made her tingle all
over. The need to take so much more was great so when he removed himself from her
grasp and returned to his side of the SUV, not facing her, a crashing wave of
disappointment slammed through her. It tasted bitter and hollow and it hurt.