Desert Blood (The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch Book 2)

by Anna Lowe

  He reached out and stroked her cheek, and the touch was cold and clammy. Reptilian. His nails were perfectly groomed, his skin, an unnaturally smooth alabaster. Like a deer in headlights, bracing for impact, Heather waited for her doom. His hand brushed her hair behind her ear, smoothed her neck. Why couldn’t she move? Why couldn’t she scream? The hand was behind her now, pulling her close as his head tilted. A glint of red rimmed his eye and his teeth—his fangs—flashed white.

  Heather stopped breathing. Almost stopped thinking. Then survival instinct struck her and she struggled to break free. He only smiled and gripped her harder, fingernails digging deep.

  That’s what did it, that pinch. It snapped her together just long enough to ram a knee into his groin and twist her wrist free. She stumbled away, horrified at the hungry flicker in his eyes. The look of a hunter, eager to play.

  If it hadn’t been for the half-drunk bachelor party that staggered around the corner then, Heather would be dead.

  “Hey baby, join the party!” One of them grabbed her arm and pulled her along. She went willingly, feeling Alon’s eyes bore into her back, right down the alley and around the next corner. Even there, she could feel his presence reaching for her.

  A police car rolled by, and she nearly screamed for help. But what would they say to a woman straight out of a bar, reporting a vampire? They’d probably book her, not him. So she ran all the way home, bolted the door, and yanked down every shade. She’d ended up locked in the bathroom all night, phone in one hand, kitchen knife in the other, wishing desperately that Buddy had lived longer, if only to see her through this awful night.

  A tickling sensation where Alon had grabbed her neck told her she was anything but free. More like a fox released just long enough to make for a better chase. His eyes had promised as much.

  Throughout that night, Heather called Cathy every half hour without a response. She called her all the next day, and every minute, another of her nerves frayed through. Finally, she steeled herself and went to Cathy’s apartment. The police were there amidst teary neighbors who shook their heads and tsked. A terrible crime. The woman had her wild ways, they whispered, but she didn’t deserve this. To be raped, beaten, ritualistically bled.

  Cathy was dead, a victim of some sadistic group. What kind of monster would do something like that? No one could say.

  No one but Heather.

  Within an hour, she’d thrown a couple of hastily packed bags into her car, withdrawn as much cash as her cards would allow, and hit the highway. Heading somewhere, anywhere. Away from the red-rimmed eyes that pierced the night. The ones staring at her now, as she slept.

  She jackknifed up, screaming. Her heart was racing by the time she realized that the red came from her alarm clock, and the hands were Cody’s, callused and calm. But the wingbeats outside were real—the sound of bats taking flight. Had they been hanging around her roof again? Heather collapsed into Cody’s chest. He curled around her, whispering softly. If that solid body couldn’t shield her from harm, nothing could.

  He’d check her into the nearest mental ward if she said it. Vampires. No, she wouldn’t say a word. She’d run from that world and into his, and damn it, she’d take refuge as long as she could.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cody breathed in Heather’s sweet scent and held her close. Tight as his arm was around her chest, she squeezed it even closer a dozen times in the night until she’d fallen asleep, peace inching its way cautiously through the consuming darkness.

  It took him another hour to get to sleep after that. His canines pushed at his gums and every muscle roared for the blood of whoever created that nightmare. He’d find the scum, rip him limb from limb. But he had to force his wolf down—again. The beast had nearly fought his way out twice tonight. First in the temptation to mark her as his mate, and now with the urge to destroy an unknown enemy. But there was a right way of doing things and a wrong.

  He wouldn’t give Heather the mating bite until she wanted it as desperately as he did and understood what it meant. Neither could he kill the enemy until he knew where to direct his rage. Right now, all he could do was soothe and protect. Love her, as he’d never loved anyone before. Even if it killed him to wait.

  He took solace from that scent—his and hers, intertwined. He’d have to scrub her good and hard in the shower before he let her go to work. Much as he wanted to shout it to the world, no one could know about them. Not yet.

  Her heart beat steadily under his hand. When she stirred, he kept his eyes shut, wondering what she would do. He’d gone to bed with plenty of women. But waking up with one? He’d never tried that. Never even been tempted. But with Heather, it seemed totally natural. Instinctual even.

  Not a good thing, because every thought, every responsibility had fled his mind the minute he walked through her door. How was he ever going to earn his father’s respect if he was distracted by a woman? He couldn’t afford that now.

  His wolf gave a grumpy snarl. She helps us. We keep her!

  Cody fought back a response. Damn it, I want to keep her, too! I just have to keep my head screwed on!

  An internal snarling match ensued that only died down when Heather’s muscles shifted then flexed. When she slid away, hair brushing his shoulder, his wolf nearly let out a whine. Cody calmed the beast, determined to see what she would do. Would she bury her face in her hands and shed tears of regret? Hide in the bathroom for an hour then breeze out to work, pretending nothing had happened? Would she—

  A kiss. A long, silky kiss, right on his cheek, one that sang with barely restrained hope. Just that light touch was enough to set his heart hammering. It was all he could do not to reach out for more or promise her everything.

  Cody gulped. If this woman wasn’t destined for him, no one was.

  The pad of her finger made a slow, lingering journey over his shoulder, leaving a warm trail that reached his bones. It traced the curves of his ear, lingering over the scar, then smoothed his eyebrow. If there was anything better than making love to her, this might be it. He could have howled when it ended, the bed shifting as she stood. Cody fought hard to control the growing desperation of his inner wolf, who wanted to tug her back and keep her close. Mine!

  He managed to keep all that down and only crack open one eyelid. In the fire of dawn, Heather was practically glowing. She took two steps across the tiny cottage, fumbled with the coffee maker, then reached for some clothes. So soon? Was she ready to let this night pass?

  Maybe not entirely because she hesitated, and then dropped the clothes. Gloriously naked, she stepped out the back door. It was a sight reserved for Cody’s eyes only, thanks to the high stockade fence surrounding the small property. She unrolled a mat and settled cross-legged on it, arms reaching up to frame Venus in the pinkish-yellow light of dawn.

  Yoga. She was doing yoga. Much as Cody preferred her at his side, he kept still and soaked in the view. With the leisurely stretch of a sleepy cat, she rose and faced the east. A satisfied cat with a full stomach and a warm place to bask. The fear was down to a mere whiff now, the nightmare pushed far, far away. A rush of pride registered in his gut, knowing that part of her calm came from having him there. He could feel it the same way he could feel a solid lump in his chest—one that pulsed with every beat of his heart, whispering. Home. This is home. Not the place, but the person. He was sure of it.

  Surer still when she let him pad over and sit wordlessly in the doorway with a mug of coffee, watching her. She carried on, a smile playing on her lips as she worked through a series of balances and stretches in a pantomime of nature. She was a waking cat, a steady oak, a hovering bird, each move melting into the next. Dancer, dreamer, beauty: Heather was all of those things.

  She came to her knees, reached high, and extended one leg to the side. Reaching her arms wide, she paused, then slowly leaned over the outstretched leg. Palm skyward, she swooped up, hand scooping the air like a flower waking in the desert. Cody found himself suspended between arousal and art
istic delight. After she repeated the move on the other side, she straightened on her knees and paused. An invitation?

  He lowered his mug to the floor and came over silently to kneel behind her on the mat. He eased into contact, keeping his hands light on her waist. Her skin captured the essence of sunrise: pastel-soft and warm. Her body supple, contoured just right for his frame. His heart skipped when she resumed the routine, making him part of her. As she leaned left and held the stretch, he ran a finger down the inside of her outstretched arm, holding his breath the whole time. Like a bird stretching its wings, she swept upward. He was beneath those wings now, marveling at their grace. His hands went back to her ribs, light, loose, not wanting to interfere with her flight. Stretch, slide, up; he echoed each of her moves then added his own.

  A kiss on the shoulder, a brush of her breast. Heather continued her routine, quivering now. He cupped her breasts, feeling them lean and lift as she went through the moves. He could smell her desire, taste her pleasure. It was dizzying, knowing what he could make her feel, knowing the power she wielded over him at the same time. He licked a finger and worked her nipples until they were hard and high, visibly straining for more. His chest was against her back now, ears tuned to her breath. They were slow, steady breaths that he would have copied if he weren’t afraid to let out a groan. So he worked his lips against a smooth shoulder instead. There. He’d forsake oxygen for the next few minutes and breathe in Heather instead.

  She settled into a seated position, the soles of her feet meeting as her knees dropped apart. For all her tension last night, she was now sage and serene. He settled behind her, cradling her between his legs. A thrill went through him when she leaned back and pushed her knees wider, inviting him to explore. His fingers slid slowly, gradually, past her curls and into her folds. That might have been pushing the boundaries of yoga, but damned if he could hold back. Not when he reached her wet, welcoming pussy. Not when she leaned back, begging him for more. As he teased her inner thighs, Heather’s steady breaths wavered. Cody closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see to find the bud of her clit, didn’t need to hear to pick up her inner cry of delight at the contact.

  Jesus, what made this so different from every other time he’d pleasured a woman? Was it that fact that the pleasure was shared, an even split? That every sharp breath she took was matched by a tremble of his own? That had to be it. This was making love, not a quick, hard fuck.

  His inner wolf growled as if the word fuck had suddenly offended his sensibility.

  And the wolf was right. The minute emotion got added to the equation—because hell, it was impossible to keep his heart locked away—fuck no longer applied. Not to his mate.

  She was perfect. They were perfect. The morning was perfect—but damn, it was already slipping away. How to maintain this languid pace, even as the sun rose, and his cock with it? How to preserve the serenity of the moment? His fingers circled her cunt, coaxing it wide. He wanted to drive into her right away, lose himself in her sweet tunnel. But for her, he’d force himself to go slow, to explore deeper. He’d coax another dozen sighs and moans out of her before letting himself go, even if his cock was about to explode.

  Together, they danced along the edge of all-out desire, inventing a whole new series of moves. All of it unspoken, uncued, the two of them perfectly in tune. She leaned back, far back, dripping slowly from his lap onto a puddle on the mat. He rolled onto her without breaking contact, and paused, cock straining at her entrance, savoring the glory of the moment.

  He mimicked the easy pace of her yoga moves, sliding into her gradually and relishing every inch of her slick heat. A pleasure so new, so intense, it hurt. He retreated, slower than slow, then dipped back in. In, in, in. God, he was so in. Heart and soul on the line, and there was nothing he could do but hang on for the ride. Somehow, though, he stopped long enough to stop, duck inside, and grab a condom in record time. Then he slid back into position and picked up where he left off.

  Slow and delicious quickly became deep and delicious, then deep and hard as Heather urged him to fill her, again and again. Her legs wrapped tightly around him, her breath ragged. He gloried in watching her come, once, twice, until the sun was slanting over the fence, hurrying them along. Only then did he give in to the urge, hammering home with the power he’d been holding back all morning. She was utterly open to him, arms overhead, neck exposed. Her pulse throbbed at the juncture of shoulder and neck. There—right there! He could claim his mate and solve everything with one bite! He could—

  No. If he claimed her now, she’d be little more than a slave to him for the rest of her life. He would have to hold on for the day when she gave herself willingly to his bite. Cody locked his teeth behind his lips and channeled the urge to his hips instead, penetrating again and again. Heather matched his rhythm, locking down hard on his cock, half-lost in sensual delirium. Higher and higher they flew, until he slammed over a peak and spilled his passion into her with a cry. Panting, hearts thumping, they eventually dropped back, nuzzling.

  “Good morning,” Heather breathed into his ear, looking more serene than he’d ever seen her. He wanted to give her lots of good mornings, one after another all the way to the end of his life.

  A pang hit him amidst the joy of the moment. This was Monday, not Sunday morning, and they were out of time. But that was the least of it. Heather wasn’t a wolf. She was human. And he was the alpha’s son, a man expected—no, required—to find a suitable mate. A shifter female of high standing. Nothing else would do.

  He wound his arms around Heather and tucked her head under his chin. Destined mates? Or destined for heartbreak? Cody shielded his face from the encroaching sunlight. Soon, the day—and reality—would be upon them.

  For better or worse.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A hint of strawberry teased at Cody’s lips as he drove home. He tucked them in, savoring the reminder of his first night with Heather. If she hadn’t had to go to school, he could have stayed there all day. But there was work to be done, a case to crack.

  He detoured to check in with Kyle, who carefully refrained from any comment as to where his houseguest might have spent the night, and then drove to the ranch on the pretense of reporting to Ty. What Cody really wanted was to be near Heather. And what he needed to ask Ty had nothing to do with the case.

  Cody parked and pretended to sniff the healthy ranch air on the short walk to Ty’s place. He honed in on Heather’s scent, coming from the schoolhouse. The edgy feeling he’d had since parting with her dissipated. She was close. She was safe.

  Mine! his wolf added.

  Ours, the man agreed with an inner nod.

  He turned the corner of his brother’s house and skidded to a halt. Ty was there, all right, leaning back in a patio chair, his face lathered with shaving cream. Lana was bent over him, sliding a straight-edged razor along his jaw, their legs practically intertwined. Judging by the heated sparks between them, this close shave would end very close, indeed.

  “Uh, Ty?” Cody ventured as something behind his ribs twinged at the sight. He’d never once in his life been jealous of Ty—not the power, not the responsibility. But this—this sweet serenity, this stamp of forever—it almost hurt to see. If Cody didn’t know better, he’d have sworn his brother was purring. Until, of course, Ty growled.

  “One of these days—” Ty started.

  “Don’t move.” Lana whipped the razor away and clamped a hand around her mate’s chin. “Hi, Cody.”

  He could see his brother’s Adam’s apple bob then settle. Behind the lather on his tanned face, the color rose. One of these days, Cody, I am truly going to kill you.

  Cody gave an exaggerated sigh. Give me a time when the two of you aren’t going at each other.

  Give me a time when we get any privacy, Ty shot back.

  For a minute, the only sound was the slow scrape of the razor on Ty’s skin, the distant buzz of a bee.

  “Where’s my favorite niece?” Cody tried.


  Lana smiled. “Feeding horses with my grandmother.” She tipped Ty’s head to the side and started on his neck, a definite gleam in her eye.

  What do you want, Cody? Ty growled.

  Heather. The first thing that popped into his mind. Good thing he didn’t let it slip far enough out for his brother to catch.

  “Advice,” he said.

  His brother’s eyes slid over to him, studying. Lana took another long scrape before pulling back to look at Ty, then Cody. She wiped the razor clean and slipped wordlessly into the house.

  Ty wiped the shaving cream off his lip. “You have two minutes.”

  Cody pulled a chair over and straddled it backward. He took a deep breath. “How did you know that Lana was…that you and she were…you know…” Ty arched an eyebrow. “Mates.”

  When Ty leaned in and sniffed, the furrow between his eyebrows deepened. Cody had put considerable effort into masking Heather’s scent, but his brother’s nose was too good. “You know she’s off-limits,” Ty said through clenched teeth. “You know you can’t.”

  “So was Lana,” Cody blurted. “Didn’t stop you.” He immediately pulled back, expecting an outburst, like the time he’d made a joke about Ty’s phantom—the hint of a mate that haunted his brother for years before he finally found Lana. That joke had earned him the fiercest beating of his life, including a torn ear. He still carried that scar. Had he deserved it? Absolutely. Because now, for the first time, Cody understood what had Ty wound so tight.

  But instead of growling, his brother’s near-snarl became a smile. An actual smile. “No, I guess it didn’t.” Then he shook his head and glowered again. “Heather is human, Cody.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Cody insisted.

  “I’d say it does. Dad sure as hell will say it does.”