The Strip

by Heather Killough-Walden

  As if he was well aware of the effect he was having upon her, Cole’s smile broadened. “Where were you thinking of going, exactly?” he asked as he took a step toward her. “The hotel’s in the other direction Charlie,” he taunted her.

  Again she stepped back. “How did you get here so fast?” she asked. Her voice was rising, taking on a slightly hysterical note. “What did you do to me?” She wanted to know why he had this power over her. Why the very thought of him made her sexually hungry.

  “I told you, Charlie,” he said as he took another step toward her. Automatically, she stepped back. His nearness was making her dizzy. He was so handsome. Nature just didn’t make men like this.

  No, it doesn’t, she thought frantically. Because it makes werewolves instead. Werewolves that can heal broken noses in seconds flat, apparently. Because he looked as though she had not in fact slammed her skull into him with all of her strength just a few minutes ago.

  “I’ve marked you as my mate,” he continued, calmly. “It needed to be done.” His accent was rich and intoxicating. It brought her nerve-endings to delicious life, and then blanketed them like a salve.

  “You’re crazy,” she told him. “Stay away from me. I don’t know what you are, but I never want to see you again.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. A blatant lie. But she was desperate. There was too much coming at her all at once.

  His only response was to stop in his tracks and cock his head to one side, his piercing green gaze narrowing slightly. “Do you know that I can hear it in your heartbeat and in the subtle change of your tone when you lie, Charlie?” He considered her for a moment and she was nearly paralyzed beneath that emerald scrutiny. “It doesn’t become you.”

  Her fight-or-flight response was to spin around and bolt in the other direction. Once more, it mattered not where she was going. It mattered only that she put distance between herself and the green-eyed man behind her.

  * * * *

  Something strange flickered in the depths of Cole’s eyes.

  Quite unexpectedly, he felt conflicted. As he watched Charlie’s blue eyes narrow with determination, he realized that no matter what her heart told her, her mind was trying its best to convince her that he meant her harm.

  He couldn’t exactly blame it. Thus far, he had done nothing to prove otherwise. He had tricked her, held her down, marked her, chased her, and treated her with nothing but menace. The wolf in him was both keyed up and angry. While it enjoyed the chase, it also wanted her to simply accept the inevitable and stop running.

  This was obviously hurting her. She was scared. He had heard the erratic, slightly irregular beating of her heart and had seen the way she trembled. He could smell the fear coming off of her.

  When she spun around to once more disappear into the crowd, he found himself wondering what had brought her out on this night, in the first place. Why had she been in that club with her friend? It hadn’t seemed like her, come to think of it. She’d been… out of place, somehow. Rather like a fallen angel among demons. She’d been nervous. That much, he had scented. And what was it that her friend, Mary Jane had told her?

  “Okay, so maybe they do all want to rip your clothes off and screw you on the floor. But you can handle them. You may as well have fun until it starts getting nasty.”

  He frowned as he recalled her words. An unpleasant heaviness settled somewhere in the middle of his chest.

  There was much more to Claire St.James than met the eye. She was as complex and complicated as she was breathtaking. What did trouble Cole was that, for the first time in his very long life, he found he actually cared.

  He let his gaze drop to the ground and pulled out his cell. By the time his call connected, he’d taken a deep, calming breath and come to a decision.

  “Jake, get her a ride home.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. And then Jake replied, “Sure thing, boss.”

  Malcolm hung up and ran a hand through his thick hair. “Christ.” This was going to be a lot harder than he’d thought.

  * * * *

  Lily Kane watched as the young woman with the long strawberry blond hair sped down the street several blocks away. She was inexorably heading in the direction of the taxi in which Lily now sat waiting.

  “Told you!” She nudged the tall man beside her. “Here she comes! And she’s terrified. I did tell you. Didn’t I?” she repeated. She reached for the handle of the car door, but James Valentine stopped her, his fingers wrapped firmly but gently around her wrist.

  “Wait.” He cocked his head to one side. “Cole’s second is out there as well. Jakob Samson. I can smell him.”

  “So?” Lily turned toward him, her golden gaze narrowed. “I’m not going to let him stop me. She needs our help, James. I’m telling you, this time it’s serious.”

  Valentine gazed down at her for what seemed like a long while, his silver eyes darkening into a charcoal-laden mercury. He knew she was right. He could sense the danger out there. But he was far more prepared to allow Claire St.James to wander helplessly into that danger than to allow Lily Kane to willingly step foot into it.

  “Your husband will kill me if I let you do this, Lily.”

  Lily gave him an oh-brother look. “Nothing can kill you, James. Not even Daniel.” Though he could probably come close, she added mentally. But she needed to get out there, and time was running short. Claire, or “Charlie,” as she was in Lily’s dreams, needed help.

  Two years ago, Lily Kane had been Lily St. Claire. At the time, she’d been a social worker – and a human. But a twist of fate and a run-in with an incredibly sexy crush from high school had changed all of that in the course of a few short days.

  Daniel Kane had turned her into a werewolf. With the new physiology came a change in her vocation because, for some reason, Lily now possessed the ability to see into other werewolves’ lives. She dreamed about their pasts, the dangers they were facing, and sometimes she even saw how everything would turn out. She’d gone from being a plain old social worker to a social worker for the supernatural.

  Neither Daniel’s begging nor the pleading of James Valentine, her guardian had been able to change Lily’s mind when she’d decided that this new gift of hers needed to be put to good use. Now she tracked down the wolves she dreamed about and she tried her best to help them.

  Daniel was the police chief of Baton Rouge, so his job kept him in Louisiana most of the time. For that reason, Valentine accompanied her when she trekked across country to set things straight for complete strangers.

  It had been especially difficult when she was pregnant. At first, Daniel had steadfastly refused to let her go. But her dreams would cause her to feel guilty and, in the end, they were both worried about the effect it would have upon their unborn son. So, he allowed her to follow her heart. She was accompanied by Valentine and more than a few members of his pack everywhere she went.

  Somehow, they’d made it through that rather intense nine-month stage and Lily’s son was now safe with Daniel and Lily’s best friend, Tabitha. The infant had Daniel’s entire pack looking out for him. Lily felt very, very fortunate to be a mother with so many strong, loving, and able bodies to turn to for child care. How many moms had even one?

  The least she could do was repay the world somehow.

  Right now, that meant helping Charlie.

  “There’s a Hunter out there who has it in for that woman, James,” Lily told her guardian. Her tone was no-nonsense. “If anyone in the world knows what that feels like, it’s me. And this guy is a hell of a lot worse than Allan Jennings was.” She shivered as she recalled her dream of the Hunter and how he’d touched Charlie. “Trust me. We need to intervene.”

  With that, James sighed heavily and let go of her wrist. He nodded and opened his own door, even as she opened hers.

  * * * *

  Charlie skidded to a halt when the strange scent reached her. It was a dangerous scent. Not like death, but a portent to it. Her breathing was i
ncredibly steady for someone who had just run twenty blocks full steam. She barely felt tired as she hurriedly scanned the crowds on both sides of the street, searching for the source of the oddly different smell.

  And then she saw the woman and the man getting out of the taxi two blocks down. They were staring at her. Their eyes were unnaturally stark; the woman’s a bright, glowing gold, the man’s like molten metal.

  Not human, she thought. Werewolves.

  Her heart skipped a few beats and she almost whimpered. The bizarre but beautiful mark on her arm felt like it was heating up. She glanced down at it even as she felt the couple from the taxi begin to make their way toward her.

  “This isn’t happening,” she muttered, desperation flooding her slim form as surely as the adrenaline already coursing through her blood stream. Once more, her training took over and she bolted across the street, weaving between speeding cars and earning herself a few irritated honks and a crudely thrown finger.

  She ignored them all and shot down the nearest dark alley. I need to get back to the hotel, she thought frantically. But it was so far. Before she’d come to Las Vegas, she’d had no idea the city was actually so big. She’d thought it was just that one street, more or less, and then a smattering of restaurants.

  It wasn’t.

  I need to find a cab.

  And then she was cruising out the other side of the alley and a taxi was pulling up along the curb in front of her. Again, Charlie skidded to a halt. But this time, no one got out of the car. In fact, the back seat was empty. The taxi driver simply leaned over and yelled through the passenger-side window. “Hey, lady! I was told to pick you up an’ take you to The August!”

  Charlie gave him a quick once-over. He was an older man, probably in his sixties, and his accent had been Jersey. He looked tired, but eager to earn money. He had a wedding ring on his left ring finger and a picture of him with his family on the front dash board. Three kids, all grown up. Four grand kids.

  Charlie glanced once over her shoulder, caught the scent of werewolf again, and quickly came to a decision. She opened the back door of the cab and slid inside.

  The cab driver eyed her from the front seat. No doubt, he could see the fear in her expression. He expertly acted on it. “Fare’s been paid,” the man said as he pulled away from the curb. “But if you wanna give me a great big tip, I can go faster.”

  “Go faster,” Charlie told him, from the back seat.

  The man chuckled a little, shook his head, and stepped on the gas.

  * * * *

  “Shit!” Lily slowed and came to a stop, bending over to catch her breath. Running wasn’t her thing – never had been. She was only slightly better at it now that she was a wolf. “Did you see that burst of speed?” she asked James, between breaths. “That wasn’t normal!”

  “No,” Valentine agreed from beside her. His gray eyes were glowing brightly in the darkness of the alley. He’d watched the young woman get into the cab and drive away. “Not even for a wolf.”

  “What happened?” Lily asked, straightening again and running a hand through her long golden hair. “How did she suddenly get so fast?”

  James thought for a moment. He wasn’t out of breath, but he was indeed impressed by the Dormant’s sudden speed. She’d taken on a nearly blurred appearance as she’d darted down the alleyway, moving much faster than should be possible. In fact, Valentine had only ever known one wolf who could move that fast.

  “What are you two doing here?”

  Valentine wasn’t surprised. He had smelled the other alpha before his British accent filled the alleyway. But Lily spun around, alarmed.

  “Cole!”

  Malcolm laughed mirthlessly. “You never learn, do you, luv?” He stepped from the shadows against the wall, his tall form moving into the beam of a street light at the end of the passage. “It’s Malcolm.”

  Lily swallowed audibly. And then she seemed to remember that she no longer had anything to fear from him. She straightened, rolling her shoulders. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

  Malcolm studied her in silence. This was the first time he’d seen her since she’d been transformed. “I must admit you’re stunning, Lily. The Change looks good on you.” She grew uncomfortable beneath his gaze. “It makes me wonder what Charlie will look like when I turn her.”

  “You marked her, didn’t you?” Lily accused.

  Malcolm frowned. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” His gaze skirted from her face to Valentine’s. “What business do you have with Claire?”

  “She’s in danger,” Lily told him point-blank.

  Malcolm’s gaze flitted back to her. His smile was wry. “From me?” he asked softly, his emerald eyes filled with secret meaning.

  Lily gritted her teeth. The man could be so infuriating. Two years seemed to have seen no difference in him. “No,” she ground out. “From a Hunter who wants her so badly, he followed her from Pennsylvania.”

  Cole’s smile disappeared. His handsome face became expressionless. He looked at James again, as if for confirmation. James nodded.

  “Now you answer my question,” Lily demanded. “Did you mark her?”

  Cole turned his attention on her once more and fought the temptation to let loose a few tendrils of his power so that they could flay at her senses. For some reason, it irritated him that she and James, who used to work for him, were interfering in this business. And the news of the Hunter stirred up something volatile within him. He felt the need to lash out. To kill anyone and anything that came within ten feet of Claire St.James.

  Charlie was his.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Lily stated simply. “And that would explain the sudden burst of speed.” Lily sighed then, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s a female born,” she continued. “When you mixed your blood with hers, something strange happened. Namely, she got a bit of your power.”

  “It isn’t important,” James interjected. “What is important is finding the Hunter before he finds her.”

  Lily frowned and her gaze dropped to the ground. She was remembering something. “We’re too late on that front,” she said. “He already knows where she is.” Images skated before her subconscious and she closed her eyes, trying to see them more clearly.

  Cole’s voice cut through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. “What does he look like?”

  * * * *

  Jessie Graves stood from where he’d been crouched on the building’s roof top. He had watched Charlie run down the alley and get into the taxi cab. Now, he pulled his cell phone from the front pocket of his jacket and speed dialed.

  “What is it?” came the greeting on the other end of the line.

  “Complications have arisen,” Jessie spoke calmly and quietly. He didn’t want the man and the woman in the alley down below to hear him. “There are too many players on the field.”

  The man on the other end paused, obviously considering these words. “I’ll patch you through.”

  Jessie waited as the line clicked a few times and then a second person picked up. The man’s voice was deep and gravelly, his tone serious, even though he spoke slowly. “Graves,” he greeted. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Jessie made his way to the roof's fire exit and then back down the extensive stairwell. As he moved, talked.

  Chapter Six, The Hand

  Charlie got out of the cab and dug into the front pocket of her jeans to pull out a twenty. She handed it to the cab driver. “Thanks for the quick ride,” she said. He took the bill and nodded, a big smile on his lined face.

  “No problem, lady. Any time you need a ride, give me a call.” He put the twenty in a compartment with his other money and then drove away.

  Charlie turned toward the entrance of The August. Already, the door men were opening the double glass doors for her. She took a deep, shaky breath and then went inside.

  The night had been long. The last twenty-four hours, an eternity. She fe
lt a little drunk and didn’t know whether it was from the beers she’d consumed or from everything that had happened with the man who called himself Malcolm Cole. She was confused and she was scared. But most of all, she was just exhausted.

  She made her way to the elevators and asked the voice-activated computer inside to take her to the 42nd floor. A camera confirmed that her voice actually belonged to her, and the elevator doors closed just before it began to rise. Charlie’s ears popped twice on the way up. The doors dinged open again and stepped out into the massive foyer that led to the few select apartments beyond.

  As she walked down the hall, her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of the front pocket of her denim jacket and flipped it open without checking the LCD to see who it was.

  “Hello?”

  “You never made it to your last class, Charlie.”

  Charlie stopped in her tracks, her breath caught in her throat. A cold, strange chill swept over her. The mark on her right arm began to warm up. She registered all of this in the split second after she recognized the voice on the other end of the connection.

  “Reese.”

  “I assume you have a good reason for allowing your training to falter.”

  Charlie’s pulse sped up. She had no idea why she should suddenly feel so afraid, but there it was. She was scared. David Reese had always frightened her to some extent. The man was big. He was tall and built and very, very strong. He was handsome, but in a cold way. He always kept his long blonde hair tied in a leather strap with knots so intricate, they automatically made her think of bondage. As if he knew what she was thinking, his brown eyes would taunt her, his cruel lips would smile in that knowing, secretive way that they always did.

  He used her nick name, even though he knew she didn’t want him to. He looked at her as if he could see right through her; as if he knew more about her than even she did. When they trained together, he always managed to find a way to get her in his arms so that he could torment her even while he taught her to save her own life.