Linden stared in horror at a crumpled piece of paper gripped in Danny’s rigid hand. Swallowing her fear and sorrow, she pried it loose and read it aloud.
“Run, wolf, run.”
Graham’s nose flared as he narrowed his eyes at the note. Scanning the edges of the room, he strode to a corner where a thread of carpet was pulled up. Yanking on it and taking the carpet pad too, he stood back to reveal a symbol written against the concrete slab in red.
“What is that?” Meredith breathed, horror etched into every curve of her face.
Tristan ran his hands through his hair, gripped his head like it would keep him together and looked everywhere, and nowhere, at once. “How’d they find us? Ned said he hired unwitting humans to hunt us that night.”
A slow shake took Graham’s head. “It only takes one human to say one thing to someone.”
“They’ll be watching us. This isn’t the trap. They’ll have a long game.”
“It’s the beginning of the trap. They found Danny, knew what he was. They’re probably waiting out there right now, jotting down your license plate and taking pictures of our faces. They’ll wait for us to lead them to the rest of the pack before they strike.” Graham stared at Danny’s body, swinging gently to the rhythm of the record player. “This was a fishing expedition, and they caught half of us in one damned night.”
“Who?” Linden asked in a very small voice.
Graham slid a silver glance to her. His face had morphed into something not altogether human. “Hell Hunters.”
She’d never heard of them, but just the sound of the name against his lips brought a wave of gooseflesh to her arms. She dragged her gaze back to the symbol on the floor. It was intricately drawn, like some Celtic knot. But where it should be smooth and flowing, it was angled, dangerous looking. Like a brew of broken weapons left after some ancient battle.
“We need to leave. Put space in between this place and us,” Tristan said low.
“They won’t kill us here. It’s too early. Hell Hunters don’t pick pack members off. They do it big. If they killed us here, they’d never find the rest of us.”
Maybe she didn’t know Graham as well as she thought. How did he have this well of knowledge about something so dark? He’d never mentioned Hell Hunters, and she was a Lycan. The betrayal of withheld information stung. He was her mate and he should’ve prepared her better than this.
“How do you know all of this?”
“Every legacy knows the history of our people. It’s passed down from generation to generation, never written to keep us safe from the literature falling into the wrong hands. Hell Hunters have been around since the first of the Lycans were born. It’s a clan of humans—”
“More like a cult,” Tristan interjected.
“A cult,” Graham corrected, “who feel it their duty to rid the world of the supernatural.”
“Will they out us to the humans?” Linden asked.
“No. They feel they exist to keep humans safe, to keep them naive about our existence. Outing us would go against their principles. In the old days, they’d burn entire families if they suspected any of them as supernatural. Hang them from trees and set them on fire. Burn them in their beds. Women and children, too. These days, they do what they did to Danny.”
Meredith bolted from the room and Tristan followed. Her sobs could be heard from the front of the house, and Linden swung her head slowly back to Graham. “How much trouble will this bring us?”
His mouth settled into a grim line and cumbersome silence spanned the distance between them.
His lack of an answer was answer enough.
Chapter Seven
Meredith was in way over her head. She crossed her legs and leaned onto her desk, frowned at the thick stack of paperwork before her, and huffed a sigh.
In her quest to find out what was going on with Linden, she’d thrown herself into danger. And not just any kind of danger, the kind where freaking werewolves were the least of her problems.
Would she take it back? The knowledge that legends existed and fought daily battles under the unwitting noses of humans? Tristan’s face, fierce and protective flitted across her mind. Linden’s relief at having someone to talk to followed, and it became a question she couldn’t even answer.
They hadn’t even called the police.
Instead of involving the authorities, Graham and Tristan had wrapped Danny’s body in an oversized throw rug and set him in the back of the truck. Yesterday, they’d buried him in some top secret Lycan cemetery. And she’d witnessed it all happen! Did this make her an accessory to murder? No. Graham and Tristan didn’t kill Danny. They both loved him. Their grief was evident on their somber faces.
But they lived by rules humans didn’t abide by. And Linden was one of them now. Tristan had said he was trying to protect her from it all by choosing another and maybe he was right. Meredith didn’t want to feel like she was always being watched, or become afraid to be home alone after dark. She wasn’t strong—not like Linden.
“Meredith!” Shelby from one cubicle over yelled. “If you don’t stop tapping that pencil on your desk like you are the leader of some freaking college drum line, I’m going to scream.”
“You already did,” Meredith murmured, but out of courtesy for the entire office, she stopped tapping the number two she hadn’t realized she was abusing.
Her phone vibrated against the desk top, making it jump and move like a little roach. Snatching it she glared at the back of Shelby’s retreating silhouette and chose to ignore her muttered, “Get back to work.”
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” Diana said. “I was just wondering if I’m still on with Tristan tonight.”
Meredith scrunched her face. Dammit. Time to rally. “Yes, you are. Six o’clock. I’ll text you the address of the restaurant. Yaaay blind dates. Listen, I’m sorry he had to reschedule it the other day.”
“Mere, don’t worry about it. Really. A death in the family is a perfectly acceptable reason to cancel. Are you sure he’s up for a date so soon though?”
Meredith ticked off the days until the full moon on her wall calendar. One week remaining to find Tristan a mate. “Yep, he’s assured me he is really looking forward to meeting you.”
“Okay. Eeeek,” she squealed in an octave that threatened to burst Meredith’s eardrum. “I can’t wait! He sounds so nice.”
What? Nice? All she’d done to talk him up was tell Diana how ridiculously sexy he is. Sure, he was a nice guy, but she hadn’t told her that. Maybe they were one in the same to Diana. Something about that thought process prickled under her skin like sticker burr had lodged there.
As she hung up, guilt tugged at her. Was it even fair to Diana to start dating a guy right in the middle of the insanity the pack was involved in? Yes, Tristan would be kind to her, take care of her and be a good boyfriend, but she didn’t know all the facts going in. Was it fair to thrust Diana into the path of a Lycan if he had no feelings for her? And what if affection grew between them over time. She wouldn’t be allowed to know what he was or what he did on full moons, or why he had to attend so many late night meetings she wasn’t invited to. And what if, eventually, he started to love her?
Meredith closed her eyes against the hollowness that filled her.
She would still be involved in pack business. Retreat wasn’t an option now that she was so deep in, and she would have to watch Tristan and Diana hold hands and laugh at stupid inside jokes. Perhaps someday, she would be called upon to play with their little Legacy babies.
Suck it up, Meredith. She was the one adamant her whole life about never needing anyone—never marrying or jeopardizing her career for children. And besides, it was just a first date and Tristan was a big boy. If he wanted to live a loveless life, well, she’d basically vowed the same since she was thirteen.
The paperwork fairy hoisted another stack over her cubicle wall and slammed it onto the other. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to see her computer.
With a quick text of the restaurant address to Diana, she skirted chatty Raymond’s cubicle and made for the elevator.
The worst part of working in a high rise? The long, awkward elevator rides with strangers. She smiled politely at the other passengers and brushed out the door. A quick jog into the dark parking garage, and she was thinking perhaps she’d make it on time after all. If there were no wrecks on the highway, and if she could find her damned keys.
As she dug around her oversized purse, a whisper of noise made her jerk her head up. No one was on this level of the garage but her.
“Hello?”
No answer.
Geez, she was jumpy lately. Picking up speed, she multitasked with walking and digging until her hand rested on the jagged edges of her key chain. Her heart pounded faster and faster, but when she looked back again, the place was still empty except for silent cars, waiting for their owners to retrieve them.
She hit the lock button as soon as she was safe inside her civic. She’d seen a ton of scary movies, so she checked the back seat for good measure for any creepers hiding there. Thankfully, she was alone. A laugh bubbled from her as she reversed, and as she looked down to shift into drive, she shook her head at what a wiener she was being.
Foot pressed on the gas, she looked up.
And then she screamed.
Chapter Eight
Tristan checked the time on his alarm clock for the tenth time in three minutes. Meredith was late, and by a lot. Instinct was a powerful ally to a Lycan, and right now, his was howling that something was off. He punched in her number again to no answer.
With an agitated oath, he launched the cell phone onto the bed and locked his fingers behind his head. Staring out the window of his cabin to the woods beyond, he ticked off his options.
Drive out to her office and try to find her.
Call Graham and sound the alarm.
Wait.
Okay, waiting wasn’t an option, not like this. If he waited, he’d be changing in the woods out back. His skin was already crawling with that sick feeling that preceded a change from man to wolf. He snatched the keys from the bedside table and pocketed his cell, then bolted for the door.
“Whoa, runaway groom,” Meredith said as he almost collided with her outside the door. Her voice sounded strange. Airy, like she was trying to disguise a darker emotion.
“Why are you so late? And why didn’t you pick up your damned phone?” He hadn’t intended for his voice to come out loud and demanding, but fuck it. She’d worried him bad.
Then he took the time to look at her—really look at her. Her hair was disheveled and her skin pale. Her lip trembled under a thin sheen of sweat. And her scent was laced with acrid fear.
“What happened,” he said, gripping her shoulders.
She offered him a piece of paper in her shaking hand. “I have a message for you.”
“Let’s play a game, wolf,” he read aloud. The handwriting matched that of the note in Danny’s hand.
His gaze darted to the woods surrounding his cabin and he drew her inside. “Were you followed?”
“No, I made sure to take a long, convoluted way around the city to make sure no one was following. That’s what took me so long to get here.”
“Clever woman,” he murmured, pulling her in so he could feel her warmth against his chest. She melted against him like she felt safe. Dammit, the woman was going to undo him. He could’ve lost her so easily. “Where did you get the note?”
“I felt like someone was following me in the parking garage, but when I looked up, no one was there. I locked the doors and checked the back and felt so stupid for being paranoid, but when I pulled out, a man in a black hoodie stood in front of my car. I couldn’t see much of his face, but it was pale and twisted in a cruel smile. He walked right up to my car while my heart threatened to explode from my ever lovin’ chest and placed the note under my windshield wiper. Then he moved to the side and motioned for me to pass. I pulled over six blocks later for fear of having a full-blown heart attack while driving, and pulled the note inside. Then I came here.”
He ran his hands slowly and rhythmically through her soft, fiery tresses, and little by little she calmed. Her heartbeat, more important to him now than any other sound in the world, slowed its thumping rhythm. With a sigh, he said, “I don’t know about going out tonight.”
“I changed my mind,” she said in a rush. “I don’t want Diana involved in this.” She pulled back and arched her graceful eyebrows, hypnotizing him with the single tear that fled her dark eyelashes. “I think you should choose me. The Hell Hunters know who we are, Tristan. Diana will be put right in their path, and she’s innocent.”
She was right. Every word she said was truth, but when he looked into the vibrant green of her eyes and imagined the future she would have with him, he ached at the ways he would destroy her. “Is there anyone else?”
“No,” she whispered. “Just me.”
“Dammit, Meredith.” He pulled away and ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. “That’s not an option for us, can’t you see that? I’ll ruin you. It’s not like it would be with Diana. She wouldn’t ever know me, or the things I had to do to help Graham keep the pack safe. You? You’ll see all of that grit. Every bloody second of it. This is going to change you, gut you, destroy you, and you’ll resent me for bringing you into this.”
“I’m already in it! I’m here, I’m a target, and I’ve seen things already that I can’t unsee. And I can’t in good conscience bring someone unaware into this pack, who doesn’t know, with eyes wide open, what is going on. Whether you like it or not, regardless of how human and weak the blood that runs through my veins is, I’m one of you now. I’m pack.”
She was so damned beautiful he couldn’t look away from the fire that fanned her warrior face. She hadn’t just declared herself pack. She’d declared herself his. Something clicked inside of him, some recognition of a soul that would bind with his. Her edges glowed and everything behind and around her blurred to nothing. Her chest heaved and Meredith, tiny, fragile Meredith, stared down a Legacy, second in the pack of New York with nothing but challenge etched into all of her glorious features. No, fragile wasn’t the right word for this woman. Steel simmered beneath her surface. Until now, he just hadn’t taken the time to see it.
He was to her in three long strides, unable to resist her pull any longer. Her arms caught him, wrapped around his neck as his lips crashed onto hers so hard his teeth grazed her mouth. She didn’t mewl or draw away as the taste of iron tainted their kiss. Instead, her nails dug into the skin of his nape as she pulled him closer. He licked the bloody seam of her mouth, tasting her, and she parted them slightly. He dragged her waist against him, desperate to be closer, to feel her. She didn’t seem afraid at his lack of control, but she should be. A table sat against the wall, and he pressed her backward, shoving the glass vase to shatter across the wood floor before resting her on it.
“Meredith,” he rasped. “This will change everything. Every single thing you know will change if you let me in.”
A tiny moan escaped her swollen lips as she spread her knees and pulled him against her.
Rucking up her skirt, he ripped her panties away as she fumbled with his jeans. Her nails scraped his skin as she pushed them down his hips, and he shuddered under her seductive touch.
God, she was beautiful, and smart and brave, and everything about her drew him to her. He hadn’t wanted to go out with her friend. Shit, he felt sick every time he thought about taking another woman out and sitting across the table from anyone other than Meredith. He was changing, on a cellular level. He wasn’t the same closed
-off man he’d been before she’d charged into his life. He was opening up. At first, he’d sworn it was a bad thing—that she was making him weak, but now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was making him better.
A desperate sound came from her throat as he pulled her to the edge of the table and pressed the head of his cock against her. She was so wet and he wasn’t going to be able to stop soon.
“Meredith, tell me to stop now if you don’t want to do this.”
“I want you.” Her voice hitched. “I don’t want you choosing Diana or anyone else. I want you to pick me.”
“Fuck,” he gritted out as he slammed into her. She felt so damn good so tight around him and making those sexy sounds like she was already on the edge. He’d been so scared something had happened to her today, and that worry had changed everything. He couldn’t just ignore how bonded they’d become. Gripping her tighter, he bucked into her again and again until she cried out his name and ran her nails under his shirt. The silky folds between her legs throbbed against him as she came, and he reveled in the fact that he was the one who caused her head to fall back and her eyes close. He was the one whose name was on her perfect lips.
He was going to detonate soon. No, wait. He wanted more. Longer. Pulling one orgasm from her wasn’t enough, not with Meredith. Not now.
Straining to slow his rhythm, he kissed her neck and whispered, “Again.”
Her eyes were hazy with lust and awe, and he pulled the green sweater over her head, then unfastened her bra until her tits fell forward. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, unable to take his gaze away from their fullness as he cupped them.
If she knew how much he had pictured her naked and came against his own hand with her name on his breath, she’d be alarmed.
She tugged at his shirt and raked her hungry gaze down his torso, lingering on the ink on his chest. With a sexy smile, she arched her hips against him slow, setting the pace. A low growl rumbled from his chest, unbidden. Nothing had ever felt like this—so right and good as she languidly milked him. He was losing his damned mind with how perfect it felt to be in her arms.
Slip the Skin Page 13
