Savage Betrayal: Savage, Book 2

by Shelli Stevens

  The limp had never slowed Bree down in life, though. Really, how could it when it was nearly all she’d even known?

  The same tragic accident that had killed their parents had left Aubree with a horrifically broken leg that even with shifter genes had never healed right.

  Since toddlerhood, Aubree had always walked with the limp, and she’d never been able to shift without substantial, debilitating pain.

  Grace’s heart broke a little every time she thought of her sister trying to shift as a child. How her body would begin to morph, but because her bones had healed abnormally, her body was never quite able to make the transition to her wolf side without a trip to the shifter hospital afterward.

  Over the years Aubree had become better at restraining the shapeshifter side of her, so she rarely went into the shifting process. She had never known the freedom of being in wolf form, or probably couldn’t remember the few times she had during toddlerhood.

  Aubree would never know the earth intimately, or become one with it in the way a shapeshifter did. Often Grace wondered if her sister felt trapped, depressed by being held prisoner by her body. Only Aubree never seemed to be burdened by her disability, instead seemed to be eternally optimistic about life, though maybe a bit shy and withdrawn.

  Just as she was right now. After hanging her coat, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and moved to embrace Grace.

  “I’ve missed you. How was your first day back at work?”

  “It went all right.” Grace ignored the second flare of guilt.

  Aubree didn’t know why Grace had taken so much time off. In fact, as far as she was aware, her sister didn’t even know anything about the experiments or Grace having been a subject for them. If Grace had it her way, she’d never know.

  “And I’ve missed you too.” Grace pulled back to look her sister over. “I swear you’re getting skinnier, Bree. You’re a teenager, aren’t you supposed to be eating anything that’s not nailed down?”

  Her sister’s smile faltered and her gaze slipped away. “I’m not very hungry lately. And, besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped growing and am about as tall as I’m going to get. Five four. That’s not bad, right? And in like five months I’ll legally be an adult.”

  Grace winced. “That soon, huh? Time is flying.”

  “Not fast enough.” Bree stepped away and moved to the kitchen. “I look forward to being independent and not having to answer to anyone.”

  Grace, who’d begun to follow her, nodded. Valid point. Actually, pretty damn valid.

  “Well, you know my offer stands. The minute you hit eighteen you’re welcome to move in here. It’d mean switching schools—”

  “I’d do it in a heartbeat.” Bree grabbed an orange off the counter and stabbed a fingernail into the thick rind to peel the fruit.

  Grace pulled out a chair and sat down. It would be so much easier with Aubree under her roof and not stuck in some private shifter boarding school their aunt had enrolled her in.

  There was no love lost between Grace and her aunt. They’d always had a toxic relationship, and Grace had left the moment she’d turned eighteen. And she’d felt the guilt of leaving Aubree behind every day since.

  “I wish I could move in now.”

  Grace’s heart ached at the way her sister’s voice cracked, but she forced a gentle smile. Was this what her sister had wanted to talk about when she’d come over Saturday morning?

  “We’ve tried that. Unfortunately, the courts won’t allow it, remember?”

  “Don’t remind me. They think she’s more suitable and prepared to take care of my disability.” Aubree popped a piece of orange into her mouth and chewed slowly. She swallowed a moment later. “Disability. I’m not an invalid—I can take care of myself just fine. Maybe one leg is a bit of a mess, but the other is great.”

  She hated defending their aunt, but she tried to do so for her sister’s behalf. “Still, there’s always the possibility of help from a specialist, and you’re under her insurance.”

  “Of course she’s taken me to specialists, but none of them can quote unquote fix me.” Aubree gave a soft sigh and finished the rest of her orange.

  “Oh, Bree, you’re perfect. Don’t worry about it.” Damn, this conversation was just bringing them down. Maybe it was time to change the subject. “So, hey, I wish you would’ve stuck around Saturday morning. You left in such a rush, and I thought you were going to help me blow some glass.”

  “Oh, I really wanted to. I love making those pretty flowers.” Aubree leaned back in her chair and gave Grace an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I left without saying anything. I figured you might have wanted a bit of time alone with your friend.”

  Hilliard. Just the mention of him took her off guard. Grace thought about this afternoon and that heated moment when he’d pinned her to the car.

  What had happened there? Some kind of adrenaline rush from nearly getting killed? Wanting to jump the first person of the opposite sex you saw? She was usually a pretty logical person, but she was hesitant to admit she might be attracted to Agent Hilliard.

  “You work with him, right?” Aubree quirked a brow. “He’s one of your super badass agent friends?”

  Grace laughed softly. “Super badass? Nice. Don’t let him hear you call him that or it’ll inflate his ego even further.”

  “One of those guys, huh?”

  “Yeah. Popular with the ladies.” A little too popular. Which was another reason it would be a bad idea to get involved with him. “What about you, Bree? Any boys out there catch your attention lately?”

  Aubree’s smile faded and for a moment she looked almost sick. “No. Not at all. Guys pretty much suck, and I really don’t have time to date anyway.”

  Whoa. Something had happened there. Usually her sister was all too eager to talk about her life. Social, love, all aspects really.

  “All right, you can’t drop the ‘guys suck’ bomb without elaborating. What’s going on, Bree?”

  Aubree bit her lip and kept her gaze on the tabletop. For a moment she looked as if she might respond. A solid knock on the door stopped her, and she shook her head.

  “It’s nothing. You should probably get that.”

  Wanting to probe further, but equally concerned by who could possibly be at her door, Grace finally relented and went to check who was outside.

  Speak of the devil earlier and he appears… Hilliard stood outside, hands thrust into his pockets as he scanned the property behind him.

  Again? He’d shown up at her house again? Really?

  She opened the door and shook her head. “Showing up unexpectedly at my house has become a habit of yours, Hilliard.”

  He turned to face her again and gave a diluted version of his usual charming grin. “Probably, but hey, I knocked this time.”

  “Mmm. I suppose I can give you brownie points for that.” She stepped back and gestured for him to come inside.

  “Those little alarms and traps you’ve got set up must’ve taken you forever. Is there a code to deactivate that stuff or something?”

  “Yes. I have it.” Aubree stood up, her gaze bright as she looked him over. “But then I’m family. Hi there, I’m Aubree. I’ve heard a lot about you since Grace became an agent. It’s so weird you’d show up now. Were your ears burning?”

  “My ears?” Hilliard’s pensive gaze slid between Grace and her sister.

  Oh this was just too damn awkward. Grace let out a slow breath and gave a who knows shrug, hoping Aubree would drop it.

  “We were talking about you,” Aubree continued cheerfully.

  And so much for dropping it.

  “Were you now?” Hilliard slid his attention back to Grace. His gaze was entirely too knowing and thorough. She curled her fingers into fists and willed herself not to squirm. Heat had begun curling through her and her cheeks felt suddenly warm.

  What the hell was this? Hot flashes? She was way too young for this crap.

  Finally, as if Hilliard could s
ense the sensory turbulence inside her, he seemed to take pity and looked back at her sister.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Aubree.” He reached out and caught her hand, kissing her knuckles. “You are just as pretty as your sister.”

  There he went, turning on the charm for another female. She knew his flirting was harmless. Still, when her sister let out what sounded like a giggle, Grace resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Well, aren’t you too sweet?” Aubree pulled her hand away and grabbed her backpack from the floor. “I’m going to leave you guys alone and get some studying done. Grace, do you mind if I take over the back room for a while?”

  “Not at all.” Grace waved her away and watched her sister leave the room. A moment later she heard the door to the back room close. It wasn’t loud, but the sound was an ominous reminder that she was left alone with Hilliard.

  Even without looking at him, she was aware of him next to her, leaning against the counter, arms folded across his chest. She could feel his gaze on her as her nostrils flared to take in the faint scent of cologne or aftershave—something. Whatever it was, he smelled good. And it irked her to realize she’d noticed.

  The silence swelled, and she knew she’d have to break it before she went a little nutty. Would have to ask why he’d come here in the first—

  “So you have a little sister.” He spoke before she did.

  She cracked a small smile. “Happens sometimes. You know, parents really get into that family bit and keep popping them out.”

  “Any other siblings?”

  “No. It’s just Aubree and me.”

  The familiar twinge of sadness hit to think of how brief her time with her parents had been. Even less for Aubree. Her little sister had no memories, and just a handful of pictures to remember them by.

  She finally glanced at Hilliard. “How about you?”

  “A younger brother, and two older sisters.”

  “Big family.”

  His shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. “It sure made the fight for a morning shower fun.”

  She liked this, Grace realized. The small talk. The comfort of having Hilliard hanging out with her after hours. Which was weird, because maintaining a friendship after work hours always made things a little tricky.

  And dammit, after today she was starting to wonder if she wanted more than friendship. Which was really, really bad.

  She finally dragged her gaze away from his charming smile that had her heart tripping all over the place. It was imperative that she get him to leave, and fast.

  “Why are you here again?”

  Chapter Eight

  Darrius hesitated, not even sure how the hell to answer that. Maybe he didn’t have an answer.

  It was a little hard to focus with Grace wearing her pajamas—pink plaid boxer shorts and a skintight tank top. She’d obviously showered. Her hair, still damp, hung in loose, dark waves down her back. And she smelled sweet. Whatever soap or lotion she wore had to have some kind of cinnamon scent to it.

  Every breath he took in just upped his awareness of her—made him want to gather her into his arms and press his lips to the curve of her neck. He needed to find out if she tasted as sweet as he knew she would.

  Knowing she waited for his reply, he finally settled for saying the only thing that he could think of. The only thing neutral. “I figured you might want to talk about what happened today?”

  He watched the tension invade her body, the wariness flicker in her eyes.

  “Which part?” She pulled away from the counter and held up her hand. “Actually, don’t answer that. You figured wrong. No, I don’t want to talk about any of it.”

  She walked past him, away from the bedrooms and toward what seemed to be the living room.

  His gaze unwillingly slipped to the curve of her ass, and his blood rushed south. His jaw flexed as he took in the long, pale legs that ended in bare feet. Feet that were nearly running through the plush carpet to move away from him.

  “It’s late. You shouldn’t be here anyway.”

  He caught up with her and grabbed her arm, swinging her around. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “So why are you here?” There was desperation in her voice now, as if she dreaded the confrontation that had been building.

  “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. I just found myself driving here instead of home tonight.”

  “Okay, you know what? Not an acceptable answer.”

  “Maybe not. But here’s what I can tell you.” His fingers slid over the soft skin of her upper arm, holding her still as she tried to pull away. “There was this cute blonde at the bar tonight and we were in her car. She was all set to let me fuck her.”

  Shock flared in her eyes, and then disappointment, before her gaze turned hard and cold. “What, is crude the new charming with you, Hilliard? Look, I don’t doubt you can get laid. No one is going to dispute that,” she ground out, “but I don’t need you to show up at my house to give me a blow by blow, okay?”

  “I think you do need to hear this, because you’re part of the damn problem.”

  She stopped trying to pull away and let out a growl of fury, going toe to toe with him now. She was several inches shorter than him, but she could intimidate the hell out of most people.

  But instead of intimidating him, the anger and passion in her gaze lit a spark to the embers inside him. Made what little control he’d had when he arrived, snap.

  “I am not part of your problem. If for some reason Little Hilliard didn’t want to get up and play, they have convenient blue pills for that. So why don’t you go bum one off your dad and hightail it back to the bar and finish where you left off with your blonde friend?”

  Hilliard stared at her for a moment, letting the words sink in with disbelief. And then he laughed.

  “You think I…” He shook his head and laughed harder, but it wasn’t really driven by amusement. More so frustration. “I didn’t sleep with the woman, because I couldn’t even kiss her without thinking about you.”

  That shut her up. Grace sucked in a breath and she seemed at a loss for what to say.

  “But I tried.” His jaw flexed. “Because wanting you is a damn inconvenience, Masterson.”

  Again she didn’t say anything, but he didn’t miss the dilation of her pupils or the way her breath quickened.

  He released her arm and used both hands to push back her hair over her shoulders before cupping her face. “I’m tired of running from this. So why bother trying anymore?”

  Realization flickered in her eyes. “Hilliard, don’t you dare.”

  Too fucking late. The wolf inside him had taken over the reins and was playing the game his way now.

  He pulled her hard against him and covered her mouth with his. Expecting her knee in his crotch, he was shocked when instead her fingers curled into his shirt and she tugged him closer. She wasn’t fighting him, but matching him with everything she had.

  Her mouth parted beneath his, her tongue already meeting him halfway to tangle and tease. Sweet. Dammit all to hell, but she tasted like the inside of a candy store. So amazingly good, but so bad for you.

  He pushed aside the human voice inside him—the one that told him to come to his senses before this was too late—and gathered her tighter in his arms. Her soft breasts flattened against his chest and his cock pressed through his jeans to her belly.

  Deepening the kiss, he commandeered her mouth. Tasting and exploring every tempting inch.

  More. He needed more.

  Darrius slid his mouth from hers, giving in to the urge to explore. He traced kisses over the curve of her jawline, before moving to the tantalizing hollows her neck offered. The pulse in her neck a silent call for attention his tongue was all too eager to answer.

  “Damn, you smell so good,” he muttered when lifting his lips for just a moment. “I want to taste you. Everywhere.”

  Her body shuddered at his words and she let out a breathy whimper. “It’s the Cinnamon Roll bo
dy wash. My sister gave it to me for my last birthday. Oh God, my sister who is just down the hall.”

  He laughed huskily and buried his lips against her neck. “It’s not the body wash that’s doing this to me. And your sister is studying in a room at the other end of the house. We’re fine.” Darrius sucked the curve of her neck and closed his eyes, intoxicated by the scent of her. The softness of her skin beneath his lips.

  She melted into him again, surrendered to whatever crazed passion had them in their grip. He caught her mouth once more in another searing kiss, while easing a hand between them to tease his fingers up her toned stomach and onto the soft roundness of one breast. Her nipple poked into the curve of his palm, and he was hit by the fierce need to know what it would taste like in his mouth. To suck it until it was teased and distended and Grace was begging him for more.

  “Yes.” She stilled and then pulled away slightly. “And either you brought your Glock home in your pocket, or…wow.”

  He flicked his thumb over her nipple and was rewarded by her gasp.

  “Wow, is the answer you’re looking for.” He couldn’t stop a smug smile. “Little blue pill, my ass.”

  She laughed, a solid, throaty sound that was all confidence and pleasure.

  “What’s wrong with us? Why am I feeling like this with you? Like I could throw you down on the floor right now and ride you until I can’t see straight?”

  He groaned, his cock lurching into further hardness. “Shit, sugar, are you trying to make me lose it?”

  “Mmm, I’m undecided…”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with us. Hell, I’ve been trying to figure it out myself.” His lips brushed the pulse in her neck again. “However, I do have what is probably a complete asinine theory.”

  She sighed, teasing her fingers up the back of his neck. “I’m torn between wanting to hear it, and wanting you to take off my shirt.”

  Oh shit. Had she just given him the green light to remove her clothes?

  She nibbled on his bottom lip. “But you’d better tell me your theory.”

  Damn. And there came the yellow light. “I stayed with you when you were feral, and held you that one night. You were so close to dying, and I’m wondering if we somehow bonded in a way.”