Full Blooded

by Amanda Carlson

  “Why the big cloak-and-dagger?” I asked. “It can’t matter that much if people know what you are.” I poured a palmful of the stink over my head. I tried to face away from him, toward the rock, so my see-through camisole was aimed at something innocuous.

  “If they know what I am, they can better anticipate how I may react in a certain situation. Secrecy may aid me only a little in that respect, but the unknown tends to be more frightening than reality anyway.” He grinned. “As a rule.”

  He literally towered over me, but the weird thing was, I didn’t feel threatened by him at all. It bugged me, because he was a predator, most likely a natural enemy of mine. I should feel threatened nonstop. My hackles should be raised and I should be baring my teeth. Shifters rarely got along with other shifters. We were animals. Animals fought. They didn’t hang out in a creek together splashing around. My wolf should want to rip her canines into him and sever his jugular, not mew at him like a lovestruck teenager.

  Instead of ripping his heart out, her tongue lolled out while she enjoyed the view. Put your tongue back in your mouth. You’re embarrassing me.

  I stopped dumping water over my head to take in what he’d just said. “So, let me get this straight. If people think you may be … let’s say, a saber-toothed tiger, they’ll be more afraid of you than say … if they found out you were a common house cat? Is that the real reasoning behind all your mysterious mystique?”

  Rourke chuckled. “Jessica, you’re no shrinking violet, that’s for damn sure.” He shook his head back and forth, water spraying us both. “My ‘mysterious mystique,’ as you so nicely put it, has gone a long way in facilitating my reputation as a resident badass. If you build up the rumors and the fear, it makes your job a hell of a lot easier. I like easy.” He pinned me with his eyes. “And I can promise you I am most certainly not a house cat.” He chuckled again.

  I stopped moving.

  When he’d used my name in the familiar, blood had thundered around in my brain. My wolf and I had both snapped to immediate attention, the effect of his words had been physical. My blood pumped wildly and little tremors broke out all over my body, making me twitch. I don’t even know this guy. He shouldn’t have any effect on us. What just happened? Why is our body doing that? My wolf was too busy running in circles excitedly yipping to answer me. Plus I was having trouble focusing on what I’d just been saying as Rourke raised his arms over his head again. Water coated his face and ran freely down his body. A low sound emerged in the back of my throat. I brought a hand to my neck. Jesus, you have to stop doing that. Calm yourself down! I seriously hoped that sound had not been uttered out loud. Listen, you have to get a hold of this. We’re not sleeping with every single person we meet. My wolf was just short of jumping up and down. You can’t be into this guy like that. He’s a mercenary who was hired to stalk us, possibly even kidnap us. We are not going there. Do you hear me? She wasn’t listening because she was lost to her own personal frenzy.

  I left her there.

  We climbed straight up. Our wet clothes and shoes dried fairly quickly in the heat—thank goodness. Rourke had taken the lead and so far hadn’t glanced back. I had no idea if he was being chivalrous or if he was just anxious to reach a safer location. After a couple hours, I picked up my pace and lessened the gap between us.

  The sulfur had definitely helped mask us for a while, but as it dissipated I clearly smelled the deep clove musk emanating from every pore on Rourke’s body.

  There was no way to get rid of it. Our scent was intrinsic to us; you couldn’t turn it off.

  The wolves had it in their memory banks and could absolutely track it, it was just a matter of time. We had a day at most.

  Rourke paused beneath a tall tree. I trailed behind him, coming to a halt right as my stomach grumbled like rocks were being ground up in my intestines. Rourke arched an eyebrow.

  I shrugged. “What? I’m hungry.” Another rumble. “Actually, scratch that, I could eat an entire restaurant full of food.”

  “We’re almost there, and there’s food at the cabin.” He started walking again. “When I made my first change, I was insatiable for a solid year.” His voice held a soft purr. “In more ways than one.”

  I caught my footing in time and managed not to nosedive into the ground as I followed after him. “So I have this to look forward to for a full year?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I complained after him. “You know … It’s not like a normal hunger. It’s more like I’m trying to feed something else—something craving so much more than I can give it. Food doesn’t fill it. It’s like a gigantic void and nothing I seem to do can satiate it.”

  “You’re craving fresh blood.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean, ‘fresh blood’? I’m not killing someone just to calm my irritable stomach. That’s not happening, like ever.”

  “No, I mean you need to hunt.” He slowed, turning around. “You know, rabbits and squirrels? The hunt is what your body is craving, and a fresh kill staves off true hunger. Your body craves the blood.” He squinted back at me, bringing his hand up. When I didn’t respond, he said, “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ve only made one change … and let’s just say it didn’t go exceedingly well. I’m not actually sure I can make a successful change again … um … without help. I haven’t had any Werewolf 101 tutorials yet. If people stop trying to kill me long enough, I may be able to squeeze some in, but so far, other than what I’ve witnessed as an outsider all my life, I don’t know much of anything.”

  He turned and continued picking his way up the rocky slope. I followed. “Maybe you can make a change when we get to the cabin,” he said. “I’m certainly not a wolf, but I’ve been a shifter for a lot of years, too many to count. I might be able to help.”

  “Maybe.” Making a successful shift could be the ticket back to my Pack. As a wolf, it would be easy for me to find another way out of the mountains quickly. “But, just so you know, there’s a strong possibility I would eat you instead of the rabbit if I change. I don’t have the greatest control and I can’t promise things won’t get out of hand.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  He laughed all the way to the next clearing.

  The cabin was simple. And beautiful. The aged logs on the small structure were weathered and faded a charcoal gray. The metal roof had a nice brown patina, and a tiny stone chimney, made of flat river rocks, ran up one side. It boasted some new latches and clean boards, so I knew Rourke had recently put some time into it.

  “Wow, it’s so cute,” I said as we entered the clearing. “It’s amazing, actually. How’d you find it way up here in the middle of nowhere?” The backdrop to the cabin was the continuing side of the mountain we were on, framing it like a fantastic painting.

  “I’ve spent a lot of time in these mountains,” Rourke answered. “When you spend as much time as I do exploring the woods, you’re bound to find something.” He gestured to the right of the structure. “There used to be a rough trail leading to a deserted mine, located a few miles east of here. I figured this cabin must’ve belonged to one of the miners who decided to live here year round.” He shrugged. “Or at least that’s my best guess.”

  “How come no one else has discovered it?” Meaning humans.

  “A few people have stumbled in here and there, but there’s no easy way to get here other than what we just did.” Which had been a heavy climb up the steep side of a mountain. “The land sheers off in every direction eventually. The old mine was lost to a landslide years ago, effectively eliminating any easy routes that could’ve run up here long before I ever found it. I’ve tried to buy the land, but it’s owned by the state and there’s too much bureaucracy involved. There’s no record of the cabin at all, so when and if they ever find it, I’ll move on.”

  The tiny structure reminded me of my home in a strange way. It didn’t have much in common with the elegant Lodge of
my upbringing, but the cabin, edged by rolling green on all sides, surrounded by a forest of old growth, felt good. Really good. “You said you had food?”

  “Right inside.” He headed toward the door, chuckling again. It wasn’t nice to know everything I did was funny, but at least he had a nice baritone. Marcy was right. Listening to it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  He turned the knob and headed inside.

  “No lock?” I followed him through the door.

  “Not necessary. If someone wanted something badly enough, all they’d have to do is break a window. Hauling glass up the side of a mountain is a pain, so I figured if I had to replace some of the food once in a while, it’s easier than bringing up more glass.”

  Inside, an old wooden countertop ran along the left wall with a cutout for a sink, but an aged plastic basin balanced in its place instead. Homemade cabinets hung on the walls above the countertop, framing a lone, four-paned window in the middle. The doors to the cabinets were long gone, exposing rows and rows of canned goods.

  I made a beeline for the sustenance. “Corn, beans, fruit, chili,” I read, twisting a few of the labels so I could see what they were. “Rourke, you could open your own restaurant up here: Cute Cabin Cuisine.” I grabbed a can of chili. “Mind if I eat this cold?” I eyed the small propane camping stove in the corner, but honestly, it would take too long at this point.

  “You can eat anything you’d like. Have at it.” Rourke’s arm threaded around my waist, surprising me enough to jump. Dammit. I had to quit reacting to him.

  He slid an old, rickety drawer open right next to where I stood and pulled out a can opener. He handed it to me, eyes dancing. “You may want to use this instead of your teeth. It’s a little more civilized.”

  I ignored him, swiping the opener from his hands.

  While the drawer was still open, I plucked out a fork and headed for the small table. I sat in one of the two chairs. “I’ll show you what civilized looks like, cat.” I used the can opener, and once the lid was off, I dipped my fork in and immediately drew out a big fat forkful. With a full mouth, I asked, “Ith that where you theep?” I used the tip of my fork to point upward in case he couldn’t catch my meaning.

  His gaze flicked to the small loft. A single mattress of indeterminate size lay there, covered in what appeared to be an aged patchwork quilt. “Yep, that’s where the bedroom is.”

  “Ith cute,” I said over another mouthful.

  Rourke pushed off the countertop where he’d been standing and came to sit in a rocking chair by the fireplace. The only other furniture in the room. He looked massive and out of place in the obviously fragile antique. It’d probably been handcrafted by the cabin’s original owner.

  He looked like Gulliver sitting in a chair leagues too small.

  I stifled a giggle with another bite of chili.

  Then I sat back and ate the rest of the cold meat and beans. As my brain calmed and my stomach stopped aching, I sobered considerably. It’d been easy to focus on the tough climb and trying to lose our scent trail, but what the hell was I doing here?

  This wasn’t a happy vacation in the mountains with my lover. My Pack was at war—a war sparked because of me—and I had to quit screwing around. I’d followed Rourke up here, like a good girl who’d been ordered by her father, but now it was time to figure out my next move. And in order to do that, I had to gather some facts.

  Starting with Rourke.

  I finished the chili, set the can and fork down on the table, and turned decisively toward him. He seemed to be patiently waiting for me to finish my meal. His face was quiet, almost brooding. It seemed we’d both fallen into the same what-the-fuck-do-we-do-now mode.

  I cleared my throat. “Okay, Rourke. It’s time to figure this thing out once and for all. I think our happy-talk quota is all used up, quite possibly forever. You got me here, saved me in a strange sense, made sure I stuck with you, and I’ve played along. Now I need you to give me the real reason why you’re helping me. This isn’t a game, this is my life, and I want to know the real deal. A trained mercenary does not help a damsel in distress, he avoids her like the plague. I am a burden to you, and mercs hate burdens. James’s sudden paradigm shift to trust you was abrupt. He had to have a good reason, or a damn good hunch about something. I want some answers to why you’re playing nice.”

  Rourke shifted in his chair, his muscular arms gripping the rails as he slid himself forward until he rested at the edge. It was a miracle that thing held him. He set his elbows on his knees and waited a few beats before answering. “Irish was right to trust me. I brought you here because I owed your father a debt.”

  Not what I was expecting.

  He continued, “It hadn’t been my original plan, but it came along, so I took it.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “My father didn’t mention you owed him any debt, and believe me, we discussed you in depth. If he felt he could’ve trusted you because you were beholden to him in some way, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation. He would’ve arranged a closed meeting in a safe place. End of story. What you’re saying doesn’t ring true, Rourke.”

  His mouth went up on one side, making him look cocky. “Cats and dogs play by different rules, sweetheart. What your father did for me had nothing to do with battle or war, which I believe a wolf holds above all else. After he did what he did, I made an oath to pay him back in kind. Irish must have found out about it somehow, or heard the rumors, or just guessed, but it doesn’t matter. This opportunity came along, so I took it.” He shrugged. “That’s all there is to it.”

  “That doesn’t explain our meet-up in the first place. Saving my life because a war dropped unexpectedly into your lap, and you just happened to have a debt you needed to repay, doesn’t equal meeting me for drinks because you were hired to extract information. Those are two very separate things.” I sat straighter. “Listen, Rourke, I’m not expecting you to divulge every single detail to me, but I’m looking for answers to help preserve my life. Nothing more.” He stared at me so intently, my breath caught for a moment. I cleared my throat. “Please, I need to know,” I said softly.

  “What specifically do you want to know?”

  “Who hired you? I need to know, because the details of my shift shouldn’t be out yet. It’s only been a few days, and that most likely means we have a traitor in our Pack. If I want to survive, I need information.” I tried another tack when he didn’t answer. “If keeping me alive a little longer counts toward repaying the debt you owe to my father, consider telling me what I need to know as the final payment. After I have that, I’ll go on my way and you can be done babysitting me for good.”

  Rourke stood and started to pace.

  It was a move so like my brother’s, my heart jumped into my throat suddenly and my thoughts rushed to Tyler. I brushed my mind, but there was only dead space there. The same dead space I’d gotten all day.

  Rourke stopped in front of the countertop and propped himself against it. There wasn’t exactly any place else to go. “It’s not as easy as all that.”

  “I didn’t think it would be easy. In fact, I was thinking it was going to be very, very difficult.”

  “Jessica, I’m bound by a very powerful client, and there’s more to this story than I can share with you now—or quite possibly ever.” He broke his gaze and I took the meaning intended.

  My heart raced again with the proper use of my name, but I pushed it to the farthest reaches of my mind. My wolf howled her delight again at hearing, and I had to quiet her before I went on. This is not the time. You have to cool it. “You mean somebody would’ve taken the job who didn’t owe a life debt to the Alpha of the U.S. Northern Territories? Somebody who could’ve extracted the ‘by whatever means necessary’ information by ripping out my fingernails or running a silver blade across my neck?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you went into this knowing there was a good chance you would have to save me at some point, even though it meant
double-crossing your powerful client?”

  “By ‘saving you,’ I’m not double-crossing my client. I’m simply bringing you to another location to obtain what I need.”

  “And if I refuse to give it freely?”

  “The only way to do that would be to escape me.” His eyes sparked.

  I raised an eyebrow and ran my head pointedly around the small room. “Hmm, I’m thinking that may be a likely scenario, Rourke. But the minute I make my masterful ‘escape,’ you’ll be back to hunting me, correct?”

  “Yes,” he said, not bothering to look abashed as he crossed his arms. “Most likely in a day or two, after I’ve had some time to recover from the serious injuries you inflicted on me in your overzealousness to escape.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. The thought of fighting him suddenly sent my libido skyrocketing several octaves. Damn cat. My wolf yipped. Quit. I know you’re behind this. We’re in serious discussions here and I need to stay focused. Can you please keep your mind off sex for two freaking seconds? It’s getting to be on the insane stalkery side. She growled and snapped at me. “I’m assuming once you’ve recovered from all my crushing blows, your debts to my father will be paid in full?”

  He glanced down at his boots, a lock of hair fell over his eye. “Yes.”

  “Interrogating women isn’t your thing, is it?”

  He looked up, surprised. “No. I don’t make it a habit to shake down women.”

  “But you fight them on occasion, right?” There were some nasty-ass supernatural women on the planet. Not all were created equal.

  “When duty calls.”

  “You mean when you’re paid enough?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “If I choose to give you enough information freely, will your client back off?”

  He dropped his arms and paced to the door. “I don’t know. My client tends to be attracted to the unusual. Once the entire supernatural world learns about you, there may be no end to the curiosity. Right now, I’m being paid to gather necessary information only. The next job may be a bit more … detailed.”