Touch of Temptation

by Rhyannon Byrd

  Kierland laughed, wrapping her in a tight hug, and she nestled her head under his chin, her tone turning serious as she said, “I know I was the one who talked you out of stopping him from going through with his plan to get captured, but I want Kellan out of that place.”

  “Me, too,” he told her, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I hope to God he’s ready.”

  “He’ll be ready. I just wish we could go after him now.”

  Cupping her sweet little ass with his hands, he said coaxingly, “You know, since we still have to wait for a while, I think I should do something to help you relax.”

  She shivered, her breath coming a little faster, the warm, sensual scent of her desire flooding his senses. “Do you always like to make love before heading into a fight?” she whispered, and he could hear the smile in her voice as she stroked her hands down his back, his muscles twitching beneath her touch.

  “You know me,” he breathed into the tender shell of her ear. “I’ll take every excuse there is to get my hands on you.”

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she went up on her tiptoes to bring her mouth close to his, her gray eyes heavy with lust and with love. “You don’t need an excuse, Kier.”

  “But I need you,” he groaned in a dark, husky slide of words, lifting her into his arms and laying her down on their pallet. “I need you more every goddamn day, Morgan.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me. Question is, what are ya going to do with me?”

  He reached for the front of her jeans, his wolf chuffing with excitement as he ripped them off her body. “We could talk about it,” he growled, pushing his hand inside her panties, his pulse thrashing when he found her hot and slick and wet, “but I think I’d rather just show you instead.”

  “Mmm. I do love the way you think,” she moaned, smiling up at him, and with a low, wicked rumble of laughter, Kierland lowered his body over hers….

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Casus/Kraven compound, the Wasteland

  Wednesday, 4:00 a.m.

  WHY DID SOME WORDS come so easily, while others were so difficult?

  As they readied themselves for their escape, there were so many things Chloe would have liked to say to the Lycan pacing her cell—but the words were all locked in her throat and she couldn’t get them out.

  Any minute now, they were going to make their break for it. Kellan had spent hours talking her and Raine through the plan, covering one contingency after another. He’d also briefed them both on how to kill the things they would likely come into contact with while making their escape. Since the Kraven could only be killed by a wooden stake through the heart, he’d torn her cot into pieces, breaking the wood into sturdy spikes that could do the job. It’d been a jaw-dropping sight, watching the muscles across Kellan’s arms and shoulders bulge and flex from the physical work, moving beneath the sweat-slick surface of his taut, golden skin, and for those few blissful moments Chloe had actually forgotten her fear. It’d come roaring back, though, when he’d started talking about the Casus. Even though a Dark Marker was the only way to destroy a Casus’s soul, the host bodies they occupied could be killed, sending the Casus’s shade back to Meridian. But they were still incredibly strong, and the odds were high that the monsters would release their deadly claws and fangs at the first sign of trouble, or even completely shift into their true Casus form.

  To make matters more complicated, Raine had warned them that Gregory would soon be making his move—the news setting Kellan even further on edge since Raine still couldn’t get a clear read on whoever was traveling with the Casus. Their only consolation was the fact that Raine had seen Kellan’s brother and friends closing in on the compound, as well, which meant they’d have some badass warriors fighting on their side when things got ugly.

  Knowing these were most likely the last moments of privacy she and Kellan would have, Chloe finally took a deep breath and forced out the words she wanted to say. “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, and there’s something I want to tell you.”

  “Go for it.” He wore his usual cocky smile, his stance casual as he stopped in the middle of the floor and shoved his hands in his pockets, but she could see the tension that tightened the muscles in his face, as if he were mentally bracing himself for a blow.

  Forcing herself to hold his sharp, glowing gaze, she said, “You’re wrong about not inspiring faith in people. You might have been self-centered in the past, but that’s not who you are anymore.” A grin twitched at the corner of her mouth as she watched a wave of shock play across his expression, his eyes burning brighter within the shadowy darkness. “Somewhere along the way, I think you grew up, Kell. And you did a nice job of it, too.”

  He kept staring at her, his expression constantly shifting, and she could tell he wanted to say something…but couldn’t quite get it out, as if the words were difficult for him, as well. Eventually, he gave a wolfish shake of his head, as if throwing off the moment, and reached down, grabbing the blanket he’d fashioned into a makeshift sack to carry the wooden spikes. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked in a low voice, slinging the sack over his head and shoulder, so that it hung diagonally across his back.

  Chloe nodded, and he walked to the door, asking, “Raine, you ready?”

  “Oh yeah,” the psychic murmured from her cell.

  Kellan shoved the door open and Chloe quickly made her way toward the roaring fire in the hearth, curling up on the cold floor a few feet in front of it. Using the keys, he opened Raine’s cell, and in the next second, the psychic started shouting for the guards standing outside the door, calling for help. As soon as the door opened, Kellan moved into the shadowed corner nearest the bottom of the stairs, waiting as the men came thundering down. Thanks to Raine, they’d known two Collective soldiers were on duty that night, and despite their training, the humans were no match for a full-blooded Lycan.

  “The Merrick is out of her cell! Call for backup!” the first soldier shouted, heading toward her, but Kellan was already reaching for the guy’s head. With a swift jerk, he twisted the guard’s head and broke his neck. The second guard started to raise his gun, but Raine ran up behind him and smashed her water bowl over his head. Although the blow didn’t knock him out, it stunned him for the few seconds Kellan needed to kick the gun out of his hand. With a snarled curse, the soldier reached for the knife strapped to his thigh, but before he could free his blade, Kellan quickly grabbed his head and twisted, breaking his neck as easily as he’d done with the first.

  Snatching up the guards’ guns, Kellan tucked one into the back of his jeans, keeping the other in his hand. “Come on,” he grunted, jerking his head toward the stairs. “Let’s go.”

  It was unbelievably quiet as they made their way up the stairs and into a dark corridor, the only lighting coming from dimly lit sconces that lined the passageway, their flames casting eerie shadows against the pale stone walls. Chloe was just starting to breathe a little easier, thinking they might actually make it out without any problems, when the sudden blast of gunfire and pounding footsteps stopped them in their tracks. Kellan shoved her and Raine against the wall, putting his body in front of them, his gun raised and ready to fire.

  “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  Kellan listened for another half minute, then shook his head. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

  “What?”

  “Sounds like Gregory’s here.”

  “He’s right,” Raine said, her frail body covered in nothing more than a thin slip, her big eyes dark with exhaustion. “It’s him.”

  “Can you get a read on where he’s at?” Kellan asked the psychic, keeping his attention focused on their surroundings.

  Raine closed her eyes, her forehead scrunched with concentration. “He’s attacking from the west.” The compound was actually shaped like a cross, the underground level where they’d been kept located in the south arm, which meant that Gregory wasn’t far from their current position.


  “Then we’ll go east,” Kellan said in a low voice. “Come on. We’ve got to hustle.”

  They changed direction, running through what seemed a never-ending maze of corridors. Gunfire continued to echo through the compound, coming from every direction now, and Raine told them that Kellan’s friends had entered the fight. They’d just made another turn into a wide, low-ceilinged hallway when they ran into a group of Westmore’s men, and Chloe knew from their ice-blue eyes that at least three of them were Casus. The other one had eyes that were burning like blood-red embers of fire, and Kellan reached for the stakes slung on his back.

  “Get behind me!” he barked, just as the Kraven came at him, its fangs dripping with saliva, and blood sprayed as he stabbed one of the wooden stakes through the center of its chest. As the Kraven’s body fell to the floor, the Casus released their claws and attacked. Kellan managed to shoot one of them straight through the center of its forehead, before another one knocked the gun from his hand. Chloe watched in shock as he released his own fangs and claws, digging them into the monster’s throat and ripping it out. Then he spun, ready to take on the last Casus, blood dripping from his claws and coating his upper body. She should have been terrified at the sight of such brutal violence, but the Merrick part of her was too proud for such a wimpy, human reaction. It gloried in the primal savagery of the Lycan’s protection, hungrier than ever for him.

  He was still embroiled in the battle when another Kraven came from the opposite direction, its red eyes glowing with bloodlust as it attacked Raine, tackling her so hard that she slammed to the floor. Gritting her teeth, Chloe grabbed one of the wooden stakes that were now scattered on the floor and ran for the bastard as he crouched over Raine, her Merrick in full force as she let out a bloodthirsty cry and drove the wood deep into his back, aiming for his heart. He slumped over the psychic, pinning her to the floor, and Chloe was still trying to shove him to the side when Raine shouted out a warning that there was another Kraven behind her. Before she could turn, the Kraven grabbed Chloe’s arm, nearly wrenching it out of the socket as he jerked her around, his sadistic grin revealing the tips of his fangs as he pulled her against his chest.

  “I’ve been watching you.” His rank breath nearly made her gag.

  “Westmore will kill you if you touch me!” she snarled, keeping one eye on Kellan, who was still trading vicious blows with the last Casus.

  “If I kill you when I’m through,” the Kraven said with a low laugh, “then Westmore will never—”

  His gloating was cut short when Chloe jerked her knee up as hard as she could, aiming right for the bastard’s groin.

  “You little bitch!” he roared, backhanding her across the face and sending her skidding across the floor. Tasting blood in her mouth, she pushed her hair out of her eyes just in time to see Raine sink a stake into the creep’s back, exactly like Chloe had done moments earlier when she’d killed the other Kraven. Footsteps thundered overhead, the sound of gunfire growing louder as Chloe pushed herself to her feet and looked for Kellan. As their gazes met, Chloe tried to call out to him, to let him know she was okay, but before she had a chance the entire compound shook with a violent tremor, the terrifying roar of an explosion coming from right over their heads, and the ceiling gave way between them. She started to scream his name, but a blinding flash of light filled the corridor, and the next thing Chloe knew she was flying through the air, a deafening blast of sound filling her head.

  In a daze, she rolled over, squinting against the clouds of dust as she struggled to see. “Oh, God. Please be okay,” she whispered, terrified that Kellan and Raine might have been harmed by the blast. They hadn’t been as close as she had, since they were at the other end of the corridor, but she knew how unpredictable these things could be. Staggering to her feet, she’d only just managed to make it upright when rough hands gripped onto her arms. “No!” she screamed, fighting to break free, but her captor was too strong.

  “Shut up, you little bitch,” the man grunted, knocking the wind out of her as he tossed her over his shoulder. She pounded her fists against his back, trying to inflict as much damage as she could, while shouting at the top of her lungs, but her screams were choked off in a painful fit of coughing when he ran into a thick wall of smoke.

  “Grab the Markers,” she heard a few minutes later from a voice that sounded like Westmore’s. “Then meet me in my private office.”

  The man holding her asked, “What do I do with the Merrick?”

  “Lock her in the library with the archives. I don’t want her getting killed before we’re ready to leave.”

  Chloe continued to pound against her captor’s back as he set off at a loping run through the smoke-filled hallways, more earsplitting blasts shaking the compound as he threw open a heavy wooden door and tossed her inside. Moonlight filtered in through a series of high windows, illuminating a book-filled room with a vaulted ceiling and dark furniture, the familiar scents of paper and leather lingering in the air.

  Ignoring the pain in her hip, Chloe scrambled to her feet as soon as the lock clicked, and immediately started looking around for anything that might be useful. She was confident that Kellan would be coming for her—but in the meantime, she needed to find something she could use as a weapon. If Westmore came back for her before Kellan could reach her, she intended to be prepared. The Merrick’s power was weakening, the morning’s events already taking their toll on her strength, but no way in hell was she letting them drag her out of there without a fight.

  LUB-DUB. LUB-DUB. LUB-DUB.

  The deep, resonant beat of his heart filled Kellan’s head, strangely disorienting as it drowned out all other sounds. Cracking open his eyes, he saw that the blast had knocked him clear off his feet, slamming him through the crumbling side of the hallway, until he’d hit the floor and slid across what appeared to be an empty room.

  He couldn’t believe the compound had been rigged to blow. His left shoulder felt like fire and he knew, without looking, that he’d been badly burned. Not that he gave a shit. All he cared about was making sure that Chloe and Raine were okay. Moving to his feet, he felt a sharp pinch in his side and looked down to find a five-inch piece of shrapnel piercing his skin. Gnashing his teeth, he grabbed the jagged steel and yanked, a thick, guttural sound ripping from his throat as it tore free. Blood seeped from the wound, but he ignored it, picking his way over the debris, until he’d made it back into the corridor, where a mound of rubble now stood between him and the place where he’d last seen Chloe.

  Screaming her name, Kellan threw himself at the wall of debris, fear clawing at his insides as he tore at the crumpled stone with his claws, his chest heaving with sharp, ragged breaths.

  “It’s okay, Kell. She’s alive.” Raine’s hoarse voice came from somewhere off to his right, and he turned, trying to find her through the thick, choking cloud of smoke. “The blast didn’t kill her. But…Westmore’s men…they’ve taken her.”

  Furious that Chloe had been captured, Kellan followed the sound of Raine’s voice and fought the wolf for dominance as it tried to take over, knowing that if he gave in to it now he would lose all sense of reason, consumed by his rage. A sharp curse left his lips when he found Raine’s small body crumpled on the cold floor. Her right arm was badly burned, a deep gash across her temple seeping blood. Just as Kellan retracted his claws and dropped to one knee beside her, someone moved into the corridor, and he snarled, showing his fangs, ready to rip the bastard to shreds, when a familiar voice shouted, “Whoa, damn it. It’s me!”

  “Oh, shit,” Kellan cursed, realizing it was Seth McConnell. “I’ve never been so happy to see you, you son of a bitch.”

  “Your brother and most of the others are with me,” Seth told him, coming closer, “but we got separated when things started exploding. Looks like Westmore had this place set to blow, and he doesn’t give a shit if his own men get taken out in the process.”

  “Is everyone okay?” Kellan asked, thinking that the soldier
was looking harder these days. Meaner. His once-shaggy blond mane was now shorn close to his scalp, his dark green eyes shadowed and tired.

  “The others are fine, but—” the soldier crouched on the other side of Raine’s body “—damn, Kell. What happened to your witch?”

  “This isn’t Chloe,” he explained, looking down to see that Raine had lost consciousness. Checking her pulse at her wrist, he quickly said, “Her name’s Raine. She’s the psychic Westmore has been holding prisoner.”

  Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Seth asked, “She get caught in a blast?”

  “Yeah, and I got separated from Chloe. Do you have someone who can get Raine out of here for me?”

  “I’ll take her,” the soldier told him, his expression dark as he looked over Raine’s battered body. “We’re meeting up in the woods northeast of the compound. I can get her there.”

  Uneasiness settled along Kellan’s nerve endings. He knew the reason Seth had joined the Collective Army at the early age of fifteen was because his entire family had been brutally slaughtered by a nest of rogue vampires—and it was Seth’s hatred for the Deschanel that had fueled his commitment to the Army until his recent defection.

  Blowing out a rough breath, Kellan muttered, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  The soldier’s gaze locked with his. “Why the hell not?”

  “Seth, man, it’s not that I don’t trust you. But she’s part Deschanel.”

  “She’s a vamp?” the soldier muttered, his brow knitting as he held Kellan’s stare.

  “Yeah. One who’s been through hell, so…she doesn’t—”

  “How old is she?” Seth grunted, cutting him off. “She doesn’t look any more than nineteen.”

  Wondering what the hell her age could matter, he said, “She’s twenty-six.”