He still wasn’t talking, he was just staring at her like he was seeing her for the first time, like he was intent on memorizing every line and contour on her face that very second and Ava found it hard to draw a full breath.
“Pax,” she began but when he placed his hands beside her shoulders, boxing her in with his body and his spicy scent, her words trailed off. She couldn’t speak, she could only watch Pax as he looked at her eyes, her nose, her lips.
“You are so wrong,” he finally said, his voice little more than a rough whisper. “So fucking wrong if you think you never meant anything to me, Ava Montclair. And the fact that you think what we had meant nothing to me? That it was one sided? Bullshit.”
Her heart was on the verge of shattering and she drew in a ragged, painful breath. What was he doing? Why was he saying these things?
She asked him those very questions and he leaned further into her space, pushing her flush against the wall by the time his chest pressed into hers and their noses were almost touching.
“It’s only ever been you, Ava,” he whispered and she swore she could remember the taste of his lips and his tongue. She was so close to breaking, so close to all the emotions she’d tried so hard to hide or ignore over the years from flowing free. “The only woman I ever loved. The only woman I ever will love, whether or not we’re together. Understand that.”
The tear was there and sliding free before she could stop it. He was dropping a confession like this on her for what reason? It didn’t sound like anything more than clearing the air over some misconception she’d been carrying. It wasn’t a declaration of anything more than misconstrued feelings.
“Coward,” she replied, her voice gravelly and broken from the emotion she was fighting. “You’re a chicken shit for leaving me then and you’re a coward for trying to rid yourself of the blame for breaking my heart all those years ago. If you’d loved me then, you wouldn’t have left me behind, broken and a mess for my brother and my friends to patch back together. You just don’t want the guilt, Pax Carrigan.”
Her words seemed to hit their mark. He looked stricken and searched her face with quick glances, his mouth opened slightly.
She thought Pax would argue. Maybe berate her. Tell her that she didn’t get it at all. Instead, he gripped the back of her head with a gentle hand and brought his lips crashing down on hers.
The sensation of his soft, full lips on her own made her legs weak and she slapped a hand against the wall for balance.
His tongue was aggressive and his lips were demanding as they slanted over hers, giving her no space for retreat. With her other hand, she clung to his shirt and tried to grasp just what the hell was happening.
Ava should have shoved Pax away from her. She probably should have slapped him for being so presumptuous. But the feel of his body against hers, the taste of him in her mouth again sparked her body to life and instead of doing all the things she should have done, she did the things that her body had wanted for the past decade.
Instead of holding on to the wall for support, she wrapped her arms around Pax’s neck and kissed him back for all she was worth, pouring every emotion he’d left her to deal with into their kiss. Ava hoped that the kiss would free her from the chains Pax had placed on her heart all those years ago.
Chapter Seven
Ava
If she’d been hoping that kiss would finally break the bonds between her heart and his, Ava couldn’t have been more wrong.
She stood in front of the soda machine ten minutes later, heart racing, breathing shallow, her forehead pressed against the plastic of the logo, wondering what the hell she’d just done.
Her hands had been everywhere, wanting to feel every inch of skin she’d been denied over the years and for a few seconds at least, his hands had done the same, his hunger seemed to match her own--mindless, all-consuming, frantic.
But he’d suddenly been able to clear his thinking, something she was both jealous of and furious about, and he’d pulled back, breaking contact with her completely.
Sure, he’d looked tortured and unwilling, but he’d still been able to pull it off--something she couldn’t have done at that moment.
“Not like this, baby,” he had whispered as he placed a kiss on her forehead.
That had broken the spell and with two hands on his chest, she shoved. Hard.
“What the fuck?!” she ground out, stomping from the room. He was just messing with her, wasn’t he? Pax must have been playing some sort of sick game to see how far he could push her away before reeling her back in time and time again. And she fell for it, she realized miserably. She was just as much his fool now as she had been then and right then, with her feet bare on the floor, standing in her crappy tank top and shorts, she hated herself for how gullible she was when it came to Pax Carrigan.
She had a million other things she should be worried about, and yet here she was, reduced to the same sobbing 17-year-old she’d been the first go round.
Punching the machine lightly with her fist, she cursed.
Mindlessly selecting a drink, Ava fed her dollar bill into the slot, only to have it rejected, spitting it back out at her. She tried once more and again, the dollar bill was spit out. At that point, she finally noticed the small orange “out of service” light right above the bill slot.
“Damn it,” she muttered, suddenly wanting a soda more than anything else. Ava considered a moment and moved toward the stairwell and opened the heavy metal door which swung shut behind her with a loud thunk.
She moved quickly down the stairs and then paused, swearing she heard something a couple levels up. Were they footsteps? Her supernatural hearing perked up, but after a few moments, she heard nothing.
On the bottom floor, Ava passed by the emergency fire exit and pushed through the door that led to the lobby, which was now dimly lit and vacant.
Her wolf paced inside her, ears alert and senses on edge. What was with her? Ava was never this jumpy.
She moved quickly to the far end of the ground floor hallway and found the second set of vending machines. Placing the dollar in the slot, she made her selection and waited for the change. With bottle in hand, she moved back to the staircase and pushed through the heavy door. She’d just taken a single step on the stairs when an arm snaked across her body and yanked her backwards, off balance and crashing into a large body behind her.
Ava gripped at the massive arm that was both keeping her in place and cutting off her oxygen to no avail. The attacker dragged her backwards and when she heard the sound of the fire exit door opening, she knew that this wasn’t a random attack.
Kicking furiously to get some semblance of balance back, Ava got her feet beneath her and pushed backwards as hard as she could, hoping to off balance the man holding her.
It worked for a moment and they both went crashing onto the door frame with a thud, loosening the grip on her neck enough for her to get a swallow of much-needed air. She used the brief respite to let out a scream that she was almost sure that nobody would hear. No, Ava realized she was on her own and survival depended on not losing focus.
The attacker’s grip had changed, so she clung to the forearm across her body and kept it from returning to her neck, at least making breathing possible. They were now outside and as the locked door slammed closed, the man threw Ava against a parked car. Her head bounced against the rear driver’s door and she saw stars instantly. Moments later, a warm trickle down her face indicated that she was bleeding.
Her wolf pawed for release, but with her head swimming so violently from the impact, she couldn’t focus long enough to release the animal, no matter how hard she pushed. Ava fought to keep from going unconscious as she slid to her knees and tried to stay upright using her hands against the car.
Fingers wrapped tightly around a handful of her hair and her head snapped backwards, causing Ava to fall flat on her back in a vulnerable position with the attacker now looming above her. A dark hood obscured most of his face, but she cou
ld make out dark eyes and a large scar running from the top of the man’s left brow, across his nose, and to the bottom of his other cheek.
And now that she was inches from him, she could tell she was dealing with another shifter. A cat of some sort. When the man brandished long, razor sharp claws from a very human hand, she confirmed her suspicions.
“They promised me a pretty face to slice open,” the man hissed, his voice not entirely human--as though the animal was in charge. A feral, she realized with a sickening horror in her stomach. “So pretty. For now.”
She struggled, but the man dropped a knee and shin across her stomach and she cried out in pain as his weight crushed her belly as well as blocked any hope of escape. The hand that had caught her hair now had her head pinned to the ground as he reached forward with his other hand, sharp claws ready to make short work of the tender skin on her face.
Despite her inability to move, how disoriented she was from the blow to the head, and how scared she was, Ava still fought and tried to buck the man’s leg from her stomach.
It was pointless. Just inches from her face, the claw was about to make contact when a body appeared from the left and tackled the man off of her in a blur of snarls, teeth, and rage.
Chapter Eight
Pax
Pax was on the son-of-a-bitch before the emergency exit door had fully opened and he hadn’t transformed into his wolf. He didn’t need to. The rage at seeing Ava beneath the other shifter had opened a floodgate of white hot violence that didn’t need supernatural abilities to sustain it.
The other shifter hadn’t heard Pax coming, which was a surprise because he’d taken the stairs from the second floor three at a time, hitting each one with a loud thud as he rounded the stairwell in pursuit of whatever had Ava.
He’d been in the hallway on the second floor looking for her after she didn’t return from going for a soda. Deep in his soul, he felt something was off and his wolf was on board and chuffing, too. Without thinking too deeply into it, he put on his boots, grabbed the door’s entry card and walked out into the hallway in search of Ava.
His blood had chilled when he caught her scent at the machines on their floor, but saw no sign of her. He followed the trail she left down into the stairwell and it was just as he rounded the top of the second-floor stairs that he heard her scream and the sound of the emergency exit door slam shut.
Pax was down the stairs in a heartbeat and on top of the feline shifter before the bastard even knew he was coming.
His fists pummeled the face of Ava’s attacker and despite the fact that he had his claws extended from his hands and was slashing back at him, Pax kept punching. From behind him, he heard Ava let out a sob and he looked over his shoulder to make sure she was alright, giving the cat shifter a chance to buck Pax off and scramble to his feet and begin to escape.
Pax was fast and was on the guy’s trail a moment later, but the attacker was faster on his feet and had retreated into the darkness before Pax gave up chase and returned to Ava.
She was sitting up, looking dazed, and trying to roll to her knees. Her face was a bloody mess and she was crying.
Without a word, Pax scooped her up in his arms and fished the key card from his pocket to let them back inside the hotel. He took the steps two at a time and was back in their room in no time.
Gently, he placed a shaking Ava on her bed and when he turned to move away, she gripped his forearms with her hands, the look she gave him nearly shattering his heart on the spot. She was terrified.
“I’m getting the medical kit, baby,” he said softly, gently encouraging her to lay back.
At her side with the small medical supply kit he kept in his bag and a warm, wet washcloth, Pax set to work, gently moving the hair from her face and dabbing at the blood. When he had the wound cleaned up, he was relieved to see that it wasn’t as bad as he’d initially feared. It wouldn’t need stiches and other than a nasty bump in the morning, the cut would be gone in no time thanks to Ava’s supernatural healing.
He cleaned the wound and dabbed a bit of antibacterial ointment on it as she winced.
“He came out of nowhere as soon as I was in the stairwell,” she said, her voice trembling. “He was choking me and dragging me out to the parking lot.”
Pax was struggling with keeping his rage in check as she spoke and he tried to concentrate on the task at hand to keep his cool. Hearing her talk about being attacked and seeing the fear on her, it was eating him up.
“Adam and Omar are searching the area for him,” Pax said as he placed the small butterfly adhesives to the wound. She winced as he applied the pressure and he backed off. “I’m done.”
She nodded and pushed herself up to a seated position, carefully moving the hair from her eyes and looking around the room.
“It’s part of this whole mess, isn’t it?” He knew what she meant and no matter how much he hated what was happening, he wasn’t going to lie to her. He nodded.
“It was definitely a shifter and the vibes I was getting from it were a strange mix of animal and human--the balance was off.”
Ava closed her eyes a moment before speaking.
“It taunted me,” she said. “It told me that it was going to enjoy cutting my face. The voice was so off--not human, but still human at the same time.”
Pax didn’t say anything and Ava let out a sigh.
“It was strong, wasn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered plainly. “It was stronger than I was expecting, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Too strong often means stupid.”
That got a small grin out of her.
“You’re strong.”
Without meaning to, Pax gave a short laugh.
“And obviously stupid as well.”
Ava sucked in a breath and glanced down at her hands.
“Because you kissed me?”
It was like a blow to the chest--the look in her eyes and the sadness in her voice as she seemed to recoil into herself. He reached out and gently gripped her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up to meet his as he moved closer to her.
“No, Ava,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice even despite his own emotions. “Not because I kissed you, because I took so damn long to face the truth between us.”
“What do you--” she started, but Pax was quick and closed the distance between them, slanting his mouth over her sweet lips and pushing through to claim her mouth. His body roared to life, buzzing and alive like Ava’s touch was energy and vitality. Like touching Ava sustained him and gave him a purpose.
She moaned sweetly and clung to his neck, nearly driving him crazy. As he moved to get closer, an abrupt knock at the door stopped him.
“Shit,” he swore and then he saw Ava cover her mouth with her hand, a look of regret and shame on her face. He grabbed her hand in his own and pulled it away from her face before placing a chaste kiss on her swollen lips. “We’re not done with this discussion, baby. We have a lot of talking and a lot of catching up to do.”
She searched his eyes with her own and the fact that it was clear that she didn’t quite trust him yet damn near broke his heart, but she would. Soon she would trust him and depend on him more than any other person in her life. And he’d do the same.
Launching himself off the bed before he got distracted in her beautiful eyes again, Pax opened the door to the room and found Omar standing there, his expression grim.
“What is it?”
Omar stepped past him and Pax closed the door behind him.
“He got away,” Omar said and Pax tensed. “But he left behind the vehicle he arrived in and there’s enough in there to tie him to Redemption. We sent everything we could over to Mason and he’s having some of our people look at it.”
Pax waited for Omar to finish.
“What?” He obviously wanted to say something else.
“They’re pretty sure they know who it is,” Omar said, a note of fear in his voice. “The guy has a reputati
on for being a savage and for never missing his prey. It seems Redemption has sent the Carver after Ava to stop the work she’s trying to do.”
“Who is the Carver, Omar?”
Ava had come up behind him and Pax hadn’t noticed.
Omar looked nervous and met Pax’s eyes for confirmation, despite the fact that Ava was his Alpha’s sister and had more pull in pack politics than an outsider like Pax had. Nevertheless, he gave a slight nod.
“From what Mason was able to find, rather quickly, the Carver is a rogue lynx shifter who works as a mercenary. He’s not technically part of this feral movement--he simply works for whoever pays the most.”
Pax cursed under his breath. Mercenaries were the worst. They were methodical and greedy and weren’t driven by anything other than money and gains. The most calculated type of enemy and one that wouldn’t make a lot of hot-headed mistakes.
“And the story behind his name?”
Ava waited for Omar, who simply shrugged.
“There’s more to the story and they’re getting it as quickly as they can, but he’s evil. He’s sick and twisted and uses his claws to torture and maim before killing his victims.”
Pax noticed the color draining from Ava’s face and he motioned for Omar to go, telling him they’d talk more in the morning unless something important came up.
Closing the door behind Omar, he looked to Ava who was trying her best to put on a brave face.
“It’s okay, Pax,” she said quickly, as though reading his own energy.
“I know it is,” he said, moving toward her. “Your brother will likely send a cadre of sentinels after this guy, so he’s going to be on the defensive. We’ll finish your mission and this guy won’t get near you again.”
She simply nodded and after a few moments, turned and headed back to her bed.
“We should try to get some sleep, I guess,” she said as she sat on her bed, making no move to get under the covers. “We’re going to have to get going in the morning and stay on track.”
Rocky Mountain Shifters: Complete Series Box Set Page 25
