by Brit Blaise
"Very succinctly put. Pretty in-fucking-credible."
* * * *
I could get used to this, I said to myself. Or had I said it out loud? It had taken Coop almost no time to get it up again.
"Am I moving too fast?" Coop asked with sexy grin before he kissed the side of my neck and inched down to my collarbone while he drove his cock home. Oh, baby!
I wanted to whimper. I didn't.
"Is this slow enough? I already know how much you like it slow," he asked, but I couldn't see if he was grinning at me this time because his face had moved to my breast. Since nothing we'd done so far remotely qualified as slow, I knew he teased. He eased in and out of my cunt like a pro. He filled me so completely I couldn't ask for more. I couldn't see anything through the haze of starlight in my brain from the pleasure building below. My bet was I'd soon be having a flaming explosion, and he'd only just started.
"I like this," he said. "I can tell you're ready. I don't think I've ever been this in sync with a woman. Your pussy grabs hold tight when you come."
With attention on the pleasure, on the sensory focus that would help him pull my trigger, I didn't want to talk. He raised his head to stare into my eyes, hooked his fingers over my shoulders from behind and thrust again hard. Somehow, he knew I was on the edge and was playing with me. This is what I got for allowing him to be the one on top.
That could be changed. I turned and took him down. Before he knew what hit him, I was on top. He stretched and put his hands behind his head. Cocky bastard. I could make him come faster than he wanted, or die trying. Oops, already dead.
I began to ride him until the smirk left his face. I got going good. This time when I came I was determined to bring him along. No sissy, little squeeze contractions for me. I rode him harder. I could feel the beginning of a deep pelvic push-out and knew I was about to get the big one.
"That's the spirit," he said.
"You want to see spirit?" I didn't wait for his answer as I pushed myself against him and gave it to him harder. The slap of my ass against his thighs grew louder and faster. He quit talking.
Or so I thought. "This scares the shit out of me," he said, and I lost my momentum again. "I'd sooner look down the barrel of your Firestorm or whatever you're carrying than face you in public in that dress again."
When he stayed quiet, I focused again and eased him in and out like a rabbit. I almost had him before he opened his mouth again. "I nearly had a heart attack when I first saw you. I'll never forget it as long as I live. The way you looked or how you danced. You set my soul on fire and I'm still burning. If all you have to give me is one night, I'll take it and be grateful for it. How do you feel about what's about to happen?"
What's about to happen? I'm about to come and that's all I wanted to think about. I thought maybe I was hallucinating. Now wasn't the time for a chat.
"Can you feel my gratitude?" he asked and pushed his hips up to meet my dissent. His cock was magic. I'd never experienced anything this good. Out of control--good. Fuck me forever--good.
"Shut up," I panted.
"But..."
Man, oh, man, he was begging for the duct tape.
"I'm just inches away from feeling your complete gratitude if you could just shut the fuck up."
"Good," he said with a grin. Then his face turned dark, like someone playing with a light switch. I watched his release as his face twisted into half-grimace--half grin and his log spewed forth a torrent of cum and then another. His release pushed me over the edge, except Coop grew cross-eyed while waiting for me to finish. Yeah!
I think I may have yodeled.
"Are you ready to talk about what happened with Sandoval now?"
I was fresh out of ideas for putting off the inevitable conversation following sex, short of taking his limp cock in my mouth. When I licked my lips as I stared at it listing off the side of his hip, Coop moved away.
"No more distractions, Jenna. We need to talk. What was going on between the two of you?"
"Everything I know about vampires comes from books. How could he have gotten inside my head?"
Coop stared at me, not answering. It chilled me to the marrow to think I'd blown it.
"Is that what was happening? He talked to you?"
"It was so clear at first I thought it was my transmitter."
"There's a couple of reasons...no, three I can think of. First, he left his mark on you, but that's not something you would've neglected to tell us."
This is when I knew I could make a fortune with a gig playing poker. He was like a hawk looking for a "tell."
"Or he's put his mark on someone whose blood is also in your veins. Someone you'd donated blood to for a transfusion?"
I shrugged like it could a possibility.
"Last, but not likely. You've marked him." Coop chuckled.
I'd never heard of the second option. There was so much I didn't know. "I've donated blood."
He nodded. "That would be my guess. It could've come from your friend, Rosa."
"She fell in basic training and split her head open. I shared my blood with her. We had the same type."
His eyes darkened. There was something he wasn't saying. Something I wouldn't like, no doubt. "Vampirism isn't like lycanthropy. It's not a virus. It's death, the living dead. I don't like Sandoval having power over you. He tried to get the necklace."
I didn't try to deny it, but I must've looked like a zombie woodenly wrestling with the thing. "He wanted it, that's certain."
"We need to find out why. Maybe you shouldn't wear it from now on."
"I promised John I wouldn't take it off. Besides, it's good to know Sandoval wants it. Now that I've been honest with you, is there anything you haven't shared with me?" What a hypocrite. I was almost ashamed of myself until a guilty look flashed across his face. There was something.
"How do you feel about fucking a werewolf?"
Chapter 6
* * *
"Allow me," Coop said, snaking an arm over top of me to open my car door.
"If you don't stop being so polite I'm going to go off on you, and it won't be pretty," I told him. Everything had changed with his confession. I really tried to be pissed, but I hadn't exactly been honest with him...still.
Then again, I don't make it my profession to kill werewolves. This man fucking kills vampires...my kind...sorta. I respect the fact most werewolves have shown themselves to be honest, law-abiding citizens. I just hadn't planned to sleep with one. Plus there was the added distraction from sunlight. While I can go out in it, it makes me half-sick. And it drains me, but doesn't fry me.
"I guess this is what happens when you don't get your beauty sleep."
"No, this how I get when someone takes the wrong road and I'm facing that." I nodded at the rickety bridge. He'd given me the choice of walking across or staying in the car with him while he drove over it, but I really didn't have a problem with the bridge. I'd had too much quiet time on the drive for self-reflection and regret, fueled by Coop's surly attitude and covered over by perfect manners all morning. "I know we're playing the part of typical tourists exploring the countryside, but this taking it too far."
"I didn't take a wrong road. I purposely came this way to avoid a car behind us. You know we can't take any chances of being trapped in an isolated area."
"Right," I said with a sniff.
"Make up your mind, princess. We don't have all day."
"Jerk."
"I think it would be better if you get out and walk on ahead. The added weight could send us plummeting."
That was it. I knocked his arm away and opened my own door. What in the world had I done? I'd had sex with a werewolf. And Lord only knows the repercussions. It's a virus for crissakes. Can the undead catch a virus? I stepped onto the wooden slats held by rope, suspended over the ravine and heard it groan under me. Great.
We had no problems until we flew into Santa Marta on the red-eye and found Yam already occupying our room at the lovely Costa Azul
Beach Hotel. Things went downhill fast after that. I can't blame it on Yam, however. The minute Yam looked at me and raised his head to howl, I'd had enough. When I demanded to know how many of them were werewolves, I didn't like the answer.
All of them.
Except for Joe.
Raul--A hunk, twenty-eight, dark hair, cut short, and tattooed. I wanted to pinch his tight tush every time I looked at him. Full-blooded Latino, he'd been raised in East LA with three of the other guys. And a werewolf!
Yam--Half-Latino, half-Hawaiian and a very big, great-looking guy. He'd puked in my boot the night I first met them when Coop brought me to their barracks. Werewolf.
Jorgé--Half-Japanese, quarter-Latino, quarter-Irish, and hot. Hot. Hot. And...very hot werewolf.
Hawk--The youngest member of Slayers Inc. Full-Latino, wild Mohawk, twenty-three, but looked younger and a player. He might be really good looking, but I didn't know. The only time I looked his direction, he copped an attitude.
Estaban--Part-Latino, other parts unknown, and a doll. Quiet and shy and just turned thirty. Werewolf.
Chevy--Latino and gorgeous. The kind of guy who turns heads, but doesn't know it. Slayers, Inc's. oldest at thirty-four. Werewolf.
Regrets can be an ugly bitch. Who knew vampire hunters could be werewolves?
I marched across the bridge and stood on the opposite edge of the gorge to wave Coop over. He slowed the jeep to a crawl and started across the creaking wooden structure. I turned my back to him so he couldn't see my face. I wouldn't want him to think I worried about him.
He pull up next to me, set the brake, cut the motor and jumped out of the Jeep to look down the mountain, back the way we'd come. "Shit."
I moved over his shoulder to see what was getting him so angry.
"Things just took a turn for the worse," he said. "Someone is following us."
I hopped back into my seat. "Who? Sandoval?"
Cooped jumped over my head and into his seat. I guess now that he's out of the closet he'll be doing all sorts of tricks.
He started the motor and gunned it. "Could be. But vamps don't travel by day." He floored it, making the motor and gears scream in protest. The back end fishtailed and spewed dirt into the air. We climbed the mountain faster than I believed possible. Pico Critóbal Colón is not a small mountain. On a scale of one to ten, I'd say eight.
After a half-hour roller-coaster ride from hell, I couldn't talk. I didn't know if I was scarred for life from the near-dismemberment experience down one set switchbacks and up another. I gave up counting how many times we nearly went over the edge. When Coop stopped at another wooden bridge similar to the earlier one we'd crossed, I stuck my head over the door and barfed.
Not because he'd scared the shit out of me--I get motion sickness. That and the stinking sun... Really.
"Be careful you don't step in that when you get out," he said.
As if. I stepped out and started across the bridge when he yelled at me to stop. "Let's head down on this side," he said, pointing down the ravine.
"I must've missed something. You think you can drive down there?"
"Yeah, right."
I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a look that would have singed a normal man. But Coop was a werewolf. "I want answers."
"If it's someone Sandoval hired, they know this country," he said, as if he was talking to a child. "We don't, no matter how many hours we spent examining maps. They might be close on our tail right now. We need to make it harder for them to find us. Grab everything you can carry."
"What about our gear?" I asked, but I really meant what about my guns? I had shipped an assortment of my best artillery and I didn't want to lose them. I understood what Coop meant. If Sandoval or anybody could trap us in the mountains alone, the rules would change. It would be a bloody battle.
"We'll take only what we can carry, leave the clothes and buy something in Santa Marta. So what do you think? How far can you hoof it without complaining?"
"We're going back to Santa Marta? They won't be expecting that. What happened to Villanueva?"
"Under the circumstances, we'd never make it. It's closer to turn back. Now answer my question. Can you do this?"
I didn't know how a vampire stacked up to werewolf in strength and endurance. Who would? "I ran in a marathon a few months ago. Of course, that was without my guns. I'm not about to leave them."
Coop walked to the side of the car and leaned over the door to grab a map. He spread it out on the hood of the Jeep and mentally calculated out loud. "Team Two is here." He waited until I looked at where he pointed his finger. It worried me that he clued me in now, but only with an ulterior motive. Maybe he needed me to see where to meet up with the team in case something happened to him.
"We'd be moving downhill most of the way," I said after a long pause. "What about this?"
"There's a bridge here and here." Coop pointed out the known crossings. "A lot of times we'll find rope bridges crossing the ravines that aren't on the map. When we get within twenty miles or so we'll be able to contact the team by radio and have them pick us up. So I make it about forty miles, maybe less since a good portion will be down the side of the mountain.
"There are two roads here." He rested his finger on a spot we'd just passed. "I came this way hoping to throw them off. We normally would've gone here." Another tap on the map.
"What about going off-road? There's bound to be goat paths that aren't on any map." I put my head down and studied it in earnest.
"If we use the Jeep, they will be able to follow us that much easier. On foot we can cover our tracks."
"This is about the damned necklace!" I cursed. "I should have left well enough alone and only used my body as bait." It was the story of my life. If one firecracker blew off Ken's sorry-ass equipment, then why not use five? So what if I started a fire in the antique quilt on my bed. The water from the waterbed put it out. I never quit while I'm ahead.
"We don't know for certain it's about the necklace. One thing at a time. First we need to find a way to throw them off our tracks. If we just abandon the vehicle, they'll know. If we send the Jeep on a trip down the mountain by itself, maybe they'll think we crashed and killed ourselves."
"Here then?" I asked and walked back over to the side. "Looks like a couple thousand feet down."
"More or less. This mountain is over nineteen-thousand feet."
"We have rope, don't we?" I asked, since I remembered seeing some in the back.
"Not that much rope. Are you sure you're up to this? Rappelling down the side of a mountain isn't as easy as it looks."
"You think it looks easy?"
He laughed at that. "It would save us hours if you think you're up to it." Coop pulled a set of binoculars out of a bag and used them to peruse the countryside. "Still no sign of company. You better tuck that braid down the back of your shirt so you don't get it hung up in the undergrowth. Then again, we could always use it for extra rope."
I turned my back on him and resisted the impulse to give him the finger. I inched closer to the edge of the ravine. The vegetation grew in thick clumps all the way down. It would both hurt and help us. It would be good cover, but rough going. I walked back to the Jeep and tore through my clothes looking for long pants.
"We'll send the Jeep off here and make it look like the bridge collapsed. I hate to do that to the locals, but that's why I took the least traveled route. Then we make our way up the road a couple of hundred yards before we head down into the ravine. Get what you want out of the back."
I hurried through my bag, removing most of the clothes. "I found this when Joe and I went shopping the day we arrived in Bogotá," I said holding up a gun box. "I don't have a holster for it yet."
"Most women go shopping for clothes or jewelry, and you buy guns."
"It was on sale," I said.
Coop opened the box and looked inside. "You can't leave this behind. It's like the Cadillac of handguns."
"I thought that, until
my custom 1911."
Coop picked up the SIG and examined it more closely. We didn't have time for dickin' around, but I could see he admired the P210. "Empty everything from the box and stick it in my duffle. I'll carry the extra weight."
"I bought it, I'll carry it. The extra clips and ammo weigh as much as the gun. It's probably no more than four pounds in all."
"Let's see. You're carrying a 1911, a mini-G, a.38 Special, a Firestorm, a 1911 and a Tomcat." He watched as I removed the gun from the case and snapped a clip into the grip. "And don't forget I'm a werewolf. I can handle the extra weight."
I wanted to say, I'm a vampire, I can handle it myself. But since his chosen profession was to kill vampires, I didn't dare. "I gave the Firestorm and the.38 to Joe. Yam has the mini-G. You forgot my G19 with the silencer and sights and the SIG."
"You aren't leaving your dress behind, are you?"
"Where would I wear something like that again?"
Coop packed and repacked the gear while I changed clothes. I watched as he readjusted his G27 at his waist and his.38 on his ankle. He had a M16 sub-machine gun slug over his shoulder with ammo belts crisscrossing his chest. He had a knife at his hip and one attached to his boot. He pulled a CCU, carbine conversion unit, out of his duffle, along with several full clips of ammo. I put all the ammo I could carry, along with my sights and silencer into my backpack. While I finished packing, Coop carried our gear across the bridge.
A couple of seconds later, I followed him over. He walked back and drove the Jeep onto the bridge. "Stay back. I'm setting a charge. It'll be relatively silent, but the splinters could fly in all directions."
Splinters? I so didn't like the sound of that. I hit the ground and got a mouth-full of dirt. But the sound of the collapsing bridge didn't compare to the racket the Jeep caused as it smashed into trees on the way down the mountain. The crash echoed through the canyon below. I joined Coop at the edge and looked down to see leaves and branches floating in the air, but I couldn't see the Jeep.
