“Well, enough talk.” The big male tidied his hair in the bathroom mirror. “There’s lonely women out there I must attend to. Until I have more news…” With a wink and flash of fang, he was gone, leaving her alone in the private bathroom.
She could gussy up her short hair, too. But the just-been-fucked look was prevalent in this establishment and that worked for her. X didn’t need a mirror to tell her she was well and truly screwed.
***
Agent E finished strapping his weapons to his body. X needed him before he left for town, but the drive to get where he wanted to be was riding him hard tonight. And didn’t that just suck. To go where he most wanted to be, and see the number one thing he didn’t want to see. Scratch that. It could be worse and he knew it.
I am Julio Esposito. I’m a cop. My wife’s name is Ana Esposito; my son’s name is Julio Junior. E silently recited the three sentences that kept him sane and kept his head in the game. Pretty soon, he’d have to alter his statement seeing as his wife, who assumed she was widowed, was engaged to some smooth talking, suit-wearing bastard.
The door to his room swung open as his partner, Agent X sauntered in shimmying her shoulders, singing, “Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can’t you see, sometimes your words just hypnotize me?” Playing off his E designation and the Notorious B.I.G. song, she’d called him Biggie since they first met almost ten years ago.
Damn, if that crazy bitch didn’t keep him sane. Not a day went by that he wasn’t grateful he and X found each other. He owed her as much as she owed him. After Madame G made him dead to the world and he survived her enhancements, he had found himself thrown in a room with a young X.
He was supposed to use her body that day, part of the mental breakdown in Madame G’s training program. But he wasn’t that guy, no matter who Madame G threw at him. He did what he had to do with the willing ones, since his previous was life over. Ana thought him dead and it was better for her, and the son he never met, that he stayed that way.
Instead, the day he had been thrown in a room with her, X turned on him and whaddya know? She had a hell of a secret. So he took her under his wing, and they worked so damn well together, they’d stayed partners.
“About time you got here,” E grunted, then her scent tickled his nose. “You smell like a fangbanger.”
X slammed the door, giving anyone in the hallway a show. It worked well, the little performance they always put on—she came back smelling like another male and he stormed off.
“Uh, probably cuz I got banged by some fangs.” She sauntered over to the lone closet in his room where she stored some of her clothes and dug out sweats to throw on over the napkin she called a dress.
Turning serious, he spoke quietly, “You don’t have to throw everything away for this mission, X.”
“It was thrown away a long time ago, Biggie. And we need the intel.”
Same disagreement, different day. He was such a hypocrite. He did the same thing with his body, as long as it meant keeping Sigma thinking he was a loyal Agent who played by most of the rules. Mates, spouses, and happily-ever-afters weren’t in the cards for him and his partner, and they would make Sigma pay for taking all of that away.
“Have a drink. I’ve got to get going.”
“She’s getting desperate and might send us after the hybrid.” X slid off her knee-high boots and climbed into the pajamas.
Sliding up his sleeve and removing the watch he wore on his left wrist, he sat on the bed and she settled down next to him. He’d been thinking Madame G had been growing erratic.
“Won’t that be a goat fuck?” he asked rhetorically, lifting his wrist for her.
X’s fangs sunk in only as deeply as necessary. Each time, he recalled his shock a decade ago when he got thrown into a room with a broken shifter female only to have his neck almost ripped off by her. He would always protect her and her secret, to the grave if he had to. This little tap into his vein was nothing compared to that first time. If he hadn’t been enhanced with healing abilities, he would’ve been six feet under. Now, her little feedings were a multi-purpose event. It left his scent on her and likewise for him, giving the impression they got it on and that made Madame G happy, because as long as he wasn’t having sex with his wife, she was pleased. As long as X was using her body, Madame G’s perverse sense of power was secure.
“Did you get anything useful out of the arrogant bastard?” E asked, ignoring the furls of desire her suckling created in him. It came automatically with the feeding and though X was gorgeous, it wasn’t her he wanted. Even if they had to sleep with each other, other than when she stayed overnight to keep up the ruse, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But them not having had sex together was a personal coup, a big fuck you to Madame G.
Withdrawing her fangs, she tossed him a little shrug and told him what Demetrius had heard in the elevator. Interesting.
“Go.” She shooed him away with her hands. “Go get your creep on.” X knew where he went and what he did, why he couldn’t leave his old life completely behind. She always covered for him.
“I’ll make my exit good.”
Yawning, she waved at him to go and sank under the covers of the bed.
E opened the door and growled loudly, “Get his stink off you before I get back,” and slammed the door behind him as he left.
Chapter Ten
The delight on Spencer and her brother’s face at being reunited was touching, if you were into that shit. Bennett couldn’t envision Spencer running up to him, arms wide open, smiling big like she did for her brother. Instead, she scowled at Bennett, reminded him to mind his language, and barked orders around her little farm.
The sex he had with his mate over a week ago didn’t take the edge off his libido any more than their little tryst in the pickup. He was achy from a body full of desire, cranky from seeing her acting sweet as pie to everyone else but surly with him, and livid at her insistence to keep her farm going. Her life was in danger and she insisted on working out in the open. In the sun no less.
And didn’t that just sting his ego. Her little one quarter vampire body labored away out in the sun, and instead of seeking his supple flesh for sustenance, Spencer tapped into both Bessie and Tulip last week.
He let her have the cabin while he showered in the lodge’s gym and played Xbox all night with Parrish and Ronnie. The two had bonded quickly over their love of video games and reality television.
Arriving at the cabin each morning to check on his mate, he was greeted with the giant German shepherd, draped across his bed with kittens all over his pillow, and a cheerful Spencer heading out for a day of work. Damn woman.
This morning proved no different. He didn’t even have time to shower and shave, much less style his hair before grabbing a fresh pair of work clothes and chasing after her.
Trotting through the shade of the trees, he caught up to her more slowly than he had planned, wanting to watch her jean-clad bottom sway over the uneven terrain. Even the loose t-shirt couldn’t hide her curves, and her swept-up hair, tucked under her straw hat, bared her elegant neck, making him remember how he had buried his face there not too long ago.
He was hard again. Fuck!
“Spencer.” He trotted to move in front of her so she’d be forced to stop and confront him. “What the hell is your problem with me?”
Her sparkling hazel eyes changed from questioning to mulish in less than a heartbeat.
“Bennett, the fact that you can’t figure that out plucks my hide.” She rested the ever-present shotgun against the ground and put her other hand on her hip.
“I’m a guy! Of course I don’t know why I piss you off. I can speak into minds, but I can’t read them. Is it my past with other women?”
Shaking her head, she looked like she almost took pity on him. “No, not the way you think. I’m a shifter, too. I understand our lifestyle. I think it’s only one woman in your past that’s making you act like such an ass to me.”
“Sweet Mother Earth
. Did Spencer King just swear?”
“Don’t try to dodge the topic. And no, I called you a donkey—a stubborn animal that works hard but doesn’t trust easily.”
Well, that was highly accurate, and yes, he was trying to dodge the topic. “Yes, Abigail ruined me. She was innocent, fearful—especially of me. I did everything I could to earn her trust, even changed who I was. It wasn’t enough.”
“That’s too bad. I think I would’ve liked the old Bennett.”
“The old Bennett went by Benji, or Benjamin. He was too naïve for his own good, rarely shaved, and wore dirty, dusty clothes.”
“You mean like you’ve been doing these last couple of weeks helping me?”
Bennett paused considering her words. He had been more like his old self working in the dirt all day next to Spencer and she didn’t seem to mind.
“You look amazing all dappered out in your GQ clothes. You look hot as heck in your work clothes. And I prefer your hair after you’ve run your hands through it ten times. No, Bennett, I’m upset because you drag me to your cabin, we have sex, you find out exactly what I am, then you treat me like a suspect and interrogate me with the help of your friends. And it’s not like you’ve warmed up since then.”
He was silent not knowing what to say. She was right. He held her at a distance because he didn’t know what to do with her other than keep her safe.
She glanced around, avoiding eye contact with him. “Do you think I want a mate who doesn’t want me? We’re shifters, we have sex and walk away. I’m part vampire, too, so it’s still a trait of that DNA. I just didn’t think my mate would do that to me.”
Aww, hell. Were those tears? She blinked rapidly, clearly not wanting him to notice. Not that he needed any more indication that she was different from Abigail. It had been clear from the start. His wife used her tears to control him, before and after she betrayed him.
“Shit.” Damn it. Language. “I mean—”
Before he found a different word, she cut him off. “Don’t worry, I can handle swearing, as long as they’re adjectives and not aimed at me. I’ve just been upset with you and telling you to watch your language irritated you, so I kept doing it.” She gave a sheepish lift of one shoulder.
If she could admit that, he could admit to his own poor behavior. “I’m sorry, okay? I want you every second of every day, and have ever since I laid eyes on you. But you’ve got to understand, this isn’t easy for me.”
“I know Bennett, I’m sorry—” Her tone was apologetic, too close to pity, so this time he cut her off.
“No, I’ve been an ass. You’ve been yourself and my head doesn’t know if it can trust that. My heart doesn’t dare. I thought I lost my chance at spending eternity with a mate after the first one found me lacking in every way, and would’ve rather seen me and my pack destroyed than just walk away. I wasn’t supposed to have a chance with another mate again. It’s never been heard of. I mean,” he shoved a hand through his hair, “I accepted that I was going to go feral and die alone at the hands of my pack, trusting them to take me out before I hurt any innocents.”
That was quite some emotional baggage he just threw at her. Now to just wait for her reaction.
“Okay…” she started slowly, “how about we start by trying to be friends?”
Friends? She didn’t want friendship from this male. Yeah, okay, she did. But after she had his body…And his blood, don’t forget his blood. Her beloved cows’ blood was like drinking grape juice after having the rarest, most expensive wine in history.
“Would a friend drink my blood instead of a cow’s?” He growled, heat filling his eyes, like he intended to pounce on her.
“Maybe,” she drawled, her heartbeat picking up, “if it meant a lot to the friend.”
Almost hoping, okay really hoping, they would have a romantic rendezvous right there in the middle of the woods, Spencer waited with breathless anticipation as Bennett stepped closer to her.
“When you need more blood, come to me.” His deep voice vibrated over her nerve endings, making her shiver. “Don’t tap the cows.”
Oh, if only it were that easy. “Bennett,” he scowled at the hint of argument in her tone, “I’m afraid if I keep taking your blood and shifting then I’ll smell like a hybrid and it’ll be harder to hide.”
Bennett gave a curt nod, squinted up at the sun through the trees before turning to stalk toward her house.
“We better get planting,” he said brusquely.
Disappointment fluttered through her and she frowned down at her shoes. Had she offended him? She’d take brooding Bennett barking orders and cussing every other word over ambivalent Bennett.
After asking her what needed to be done, he managed to avoid her for the next few hours. Lunch came and went; he made sandwiches, then wandered outside to eat his meat pile with a tiny piece of bread and left hers on the counter.
Sitting alone, wondering if she should get a blood meal from Tulip before heading back to the cabin, her phone rang.
“Hi Spencer! It’s Constance.” Not waiting for a greeting, Constance rushed on. “We finally have a contract drawn up. When’s a good time for you to come look at it?”
Pausing to peer out her window and assess the weather, Spencer calculated when they could meet.
“Tomorrow afternoon would work well.”
“Great! Stop by the store about two o’clock. You can take your time going over the contract and make any suggestions.”
A thought popped into Spencer’s head. “I might bring my…friend with. Is that okay?”
“The more the merrier. See you then.” Constance’s warm tone brightened Spencer’s day.
“Who are you talking to?” Bennett was using his Guardian voice and there went Spencer’s mood boost.
“The lady from the store I’ll be selling my produce at needs to meet so I can read over and sign the contract. It’s tomorrow at two.” Spencer polished off her milk and stood to clear dishes, ignoring the dark form blocking the doorway.
Couldn’t do it. He had his collar open revealing a sweaty chest, his jeans were dirty, and his hair was scattered like he just rolled out of bed. Which he had, hours ago. The blond scruff on his face highlighted the deep bronze his skin had taken on over the years, showcasing his square jaw and stern demeanor.
This was the real Bennett and she liked it.
“No way. They can email it or something.” This was also the real Bennett and she didn’t like it.
“I’m going in to meet with them, it’s better for business. You’re welcome to come along,” she said, striving to keep her tone neutral. Reminding herself the Guardians were putting themselves in danger to protect her helped tamp down her fear they would lock her away for her own good.
“Hell yes, I’m coming. I’ll talk to Commander Fitzsimmons and we’ll come up with a game plan.” Bennett was already leaving when she stopped him.
“Thank you.”
He stilled, half turning back toward her. “For what?”
“For your pack protecting me. I don’t take it lightly, and I won’t do anything stupid to bring more trouble to your door.”
His jaw clenched as he looked straight ahead. “That’s what friends are for.” Before she could ask him what he meant by that, he threw a work question at her. “I’ve got the north field going. Planted flowers with your vegetables. Now what?”
A small smile touched her face remembering his look of puzzlement when she handed him geraniums to plant amongst her tomatoes, that soon morphed into a dubious arched brow when she swore they would help keep pests away.
“I have two more bins of seedlings I need to get in today. Tomorrow morning, we can weed and spread the cow manure out on the area I’m prepping for late summer planting. It’s pretty mineral deficient. Tomorrow afternoon will be dreary, and then it’ll be rainy for almost two days. I can use those days to tend to my mushrooms. They’re such divas. Next week will be sunny and pretty warm, with temps in the eighties and not much wi
nd—”
Spencer was ticking off her to-do list in her head and staring out the window to gauge the weather, like she had been when talking to Constance. She didn’t notice right away when Bennett pivoted to face her with his arms crossed and forehead creased.
“What?” she inquired.
“I haven’t seen you watching the weather channel, so how do you know the ten-day forecast?” He regarded her like she asked him to plant beans in between the corn rows again.
“I know the land, and the weather seems to go along with it.” Her innate gift was pretty worthless in her life on the run, but it was invaluable to her life in hiding.
“So you can talk to plants?” Now he wore the same expression as when he found her crushing egg shells, and she asked him to pour vinegar on them and sprinkle them around her tomato rows.
“Yeah, I ask them what they want for dinner and how much manure to sprinkle on them.” She meant it in jest, but he scowled even harder. “I just have a sense of the weather patterns for the season, how healthy the land is, and what will grow best where. The other tips I’ve picked up from my parents and online organic gardening forums like Hippy Dippy Land Nut dot com.”
“Your brother can freeze people and hear voices…you got anything else? Anything that’s useful for keeping you alive?”
“Uh, no,” she threw a little extra attitude in, “that’s why I decided to hide instead and live in the boondocks. I barely have to go to town and can sell my product through intermediaries like Constance and her husband Mark.”
“Sounds like a lonely life.”
He didn’t know the half of it. “Pretty much. At least planning my business has taken my mind off whether more of my family has been tortured or killed because of me.”
“We can protect your parents, too.” Bennett’s pack had already discussed bringing her parents in. She was still considering it.
True Claim Page 10
