No harm. No foul. They didn’t get used for anything other than a few sips of blood they’d never miss, and he didn’t walk away from it feeling like a man betraying his wedding vows.
Not that he ever gotten around to asking Angel to marry him. He hadn’t had the chance… Closing his eyes, he reached up and touched the gold chain around his neck. But it didn’t matter in his heart. Heart and soul, he belonged to Angel Pierson and making love to another woman was wrong.
What he did with Phoebe wasn’t about love—hell, half the time he didn’t even think it was about sex. It was about meeting a need that could destroy him if it wasn’t satisfied. Since he’d met her, Kel hadn’t fallen back into one of his black moods that lasted for weeks on end, and he hadn’t made Rafe or any of the others so fucking mad they ended up going at each other like mortal enemies.
Regular feeds had put some seriously needed weight on his lean frame. Even if he still had an eternally young face, at least he didn’t have that awful, stretched-out gaunt look any more.
The regular feeds, the regular sex made his existence a little less miserable. And sometimes Phoebe even made him smile. Made him laugh.
He didn’t love Phoebe. She didn’t love him.
But he did care about her.
Cared about her enough to see the faint hurt in her eyes as she pushed up onto her elbow and saw him toying with the ring he’d bought for Angel. He let go of it, but didn’t apologize. She met his eyes and forced a smile.
“You really should get rid of that,” she said, her voice soft, gentle.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Instead of jerking away the way he wanted to, he put his arm under his head, pillowing it on his palm as he met her gaze dead on and replied, “You still keeping those pictures tucked away in that trunk?”
A grimace twisted her rosebud lips. “Guilty.” Sighing, she lowered her head and rested it on his chest. “But I don’t carry them around with me day after day. I don’t look at his face while I lay next to you after we’ve made love.”
Make love…
This time, Kel couldn’t stop himself from pulling away. He jackknifed out of the bed and walked away, not looking back at her until he’d put the length of the room between them. Slowly, he shook his head. “We don’t make love, Phoebe. We fuck each other’s brains out, we hurt each other.”
Phoebe slid out of the bed, a strange smile on her lips as she stalked him across the room. But there was no other way to describe that predatory prowl or that predatory look in her eyes. “Yeah. We do, and you love it.”
“No. I don’t love it—but I do need it.”
“Need it…need me. Can’t you even admit it?” she asked.
What in the hell… He didn’t know where this was coming from. Phoebe came to a halt before him, slicking her tongue across her lips, sliding her hands up over her hips, her sides, until she could cup her breasts in her palms. As she squeezed her nipples, she stared at him and her smile turned decidedly wicked as his cock stiffened, hardened.
“You can’t do without this,” she whispered. “No more than I can. You need it…you need it to forget about her, whoever she was. Let her go, Kel. Whoever she is. She’s not meant for you, not anymore.”
She leaned into him, but instead of kissing him, she pressed her mouth to his shoulder and bit down. Sharp teeth pierced his flesh and Kel groaned, battling back the surge of lust, fighting the need to grab Phoebe, shove her to her hands and knees and take the little wildcat until she was too busy screaming to talk.
But something inside him was sounding an alarm bell.
Phoebe had been acting…off ever since he’d showed up at her door two days ago. Off enough that he’d changed his mind about spending the weekend with her, but when he’d started getting his stuff together a little before dawn, she’d slid up behind him. In her hand, she’d held the reinforced cuffs Hunters carried on patrol and when she’d put them on his wrists and then went down on her knees in front of him, he’d stopped using his head to think and let his dick handle things.
Bad mistake.
Gritting his teeth, he reached up, laying his hands on Phoebe’s shoulders, trying to ease her back. She wasn’t in any hurry to take her teeth out of him though and he ended up fisting a hand in her short dark hair and jerking. She bit down harder as he pulled her away and pain slashed through him. “Damn it, Phoebe.”
She smiled up at him, his blood staining her mouth. “You know you need it…”
The alarm bells turned into a siren’s screech. Shouldering past her, he grabbed his jeans from the back of the chair but before he could jerk them on, Phoebe lunged for him, tearing them away.
“What the…”
Dropping the jeans, she swiped out, her eyes narrowed. Kel saw where she was looking and he deflected her arm with one hand as he closed his free hand around the chain. “Phoebe, what in the hell is your problem?”
“My problem?” she asked, stopping in her tracks and staring at him like he was speaking another language. “My problem is that I’m tired of seeing you touch that damn ring when you’re laying in bed with me, still wet with me, my blood inside you and my body still aching from what we did to each other.”
Her words sent a hot stab of guilt shooting through him. Keeping an eye on her, he grabbed the jeans she’d dropped and dragged them on, pulling them up over naked hips. He could smell her on him…but the scent of her didn’t appeal to him. It didn’t bother him exactly, but it didn’t feel right.
It…
It felt wrong.
This is wrong. It was an abrupt realization and not one he cared for. He’d thought… Hell, screw what he’d thought. Yeah, he had feelings for Phoebe but they wouldn’t ever be anything more. He liked her. Yeah, from time to time, she made him laugh, made him forget his misery for a short time. His life had been a little easier since he’d met her.
But he didn’t love her—he couldn’t love her. He’d thought she was in the same messed-up boat, but something about the way she was looking at him had him damn uneasy.
“You knew pretty much from the get-go that I was a mess, Phoebe,” he said, trying to keep his voice soft and gentle.
He really didn’t want to hurt her. But, as he stood there and stared into her eyes, he realized he wouldn’t be able to avoid it.
The bitter, acrid scent of her pain stung his nostrils and he watched as she rapidly blinked away tears forming in her eyes. She sniffed, moving her shoulders in a small shrug.
“I’m not asking you to tell me you love me, Kel.”
But something about the way she looked at him made him doubt the truth of those words.
That, accompanied by the way her heartbeat spiked, the way the scent in the air around her changed ever so slightly. She gave him a wobbly smile, holding out a hand.
“I…I just want you to be actually be here with me…not thinking about her.”
Instead of reaching for her hand, Kel reached out, cupped her cheek. “Phoebe, I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, stared into her dark, turbulent eyes. “I know what you want me to say—or what you’re hoping I might say sooner or later. But it won’t ever happen.”
Phoebe flinched, jerking away from him. “You can’t know that.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he watched as she started to prowl the room, pacing it with slow, measured paces that wouldn’t have been so disturbing if it wasn’t for the way her eyes kept going back and forth between human and—not.
Shifters always threw off a lot of energy, but Kel realized he hadn’t been with Phoebe with the full moon so close. Two days away. A lot of pent-up energy compressed into that small package—a lot of emotion and precious little control.
Hell, if given a choice, he’d rather deal with a pissed-off werewolf two days away from the full moon than a woman who’d convinced herself there was something deep between them.
He didn’t know where all that emotion was coming from and he didn’t know how to handle it. He co
uldn’t give her the pretty lie she seemed to want, though.
Almost like she was aware of every last thought trolling through his mind, Phoebe turned and met his gaze. That sexy, challenging smile curled her lips and she shifted her focus. From her anger and whatever else was driving her…to him. Her large, dark brown eyes suddenly glowed a pale gold and when she smiled at him, her teeth glinted white and sharp—sharper. Longer, decidedly so.
“I didn’t think I could say it either, Kel. Not until you. Not until the past few months,” she whispered, pacing towards him, placing one foot in front of the other, her hips moving with an exaggerated sway, like every last move she made was intent on seduction.
But Kel knew it wasn’t an intentional thought. Phoebe, for whatever reason, had it in her head that she’d gone and fallen in love with him. She was acting on instinct and trying to respond to those urges.
“Everything about you is different.” Her gaze dropped and she stared at the necklace around his neck, anger flickering in those dark brown depths—and for the briefest moment, there was a flash of red.
Mother fuck.
Her gaze slowly lifted back to his and that anger he’d glimpsed was gone, replaced by yearning. Her voice was husky soft as she murmured, “Every day I see you, I want more from you, of you, from us.”
Falling back a few steps, Kel curled a protective hand around the ring at his neck. “I can’t give you any more, Phoebe.” He shook his head as she moved to him and laid a hand on his cheek.
“Sure you can. Just…”
Kel reached up and closed his fingers around her wrist, easing her back. “There is no just. Just taking some more time won’t do it. Just not thinking about it won’t do it.”
With a care he rarely showed her, he lifted her wrist and pressed a kiss to the soft skin on the inside. “Goodbye, Phoebe.”
She flinched as though he’d slapped her and then jerked back. Her hands balled into fists as she stood there and glared at him, her body vibrating with fury.
“Goodbye?” she repeated, her eyes wide.
Kel didn’t bother saying it again. Instead, he grabbed his shirt and shoes and headed for the door. But Phoebe got there before he did, staring at him, enraged.
“Goodbye?” She snarled at him and when she spoke again, her voice was disturbingly deeper. “You can’t just walk away like this, Kel. Damn it, you need me. Don’t you remember how fucked up you were before you found me? I made you live again.”
In a soft, quiet voice, he said, “Phoebe, don’t do this.”
He saw the intent in her eyes and didn’t bother to move away. Unintentionally or not, he’d hurt her. Somehow, he’d given her reason to think there could ever be anything more between them. So when she struck out and slashed her hand down his chest, he stood there and let her.
Rage was taking control of her, evidenced by the fact that her nails were no longer nails—more like short, wickedly sharp claws, sharp enough that she tore flesh and drew blood. It trickled unchecked down his chest and abdomen and he watched as her gaze dropped low, eying his bloodied chest with greed.
“You need this. We need it.” Phoebe licked her lips and reached for him. “You need me, Kel…admit it.”
He caught her wrists and held her back when she would have pressed her mouth to his chest. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear from me, Phoebe. I can’t give it to you.”
Her body shuddered. Her head dropped. Kel didn’t let her go though. The air around her rippled and a powerful sense of foreboding washed over him.
She threw her head back and when she stared at him, her eyes had gone black. Black and pupilless in her pretty, elfin face and as he stared at her, she started to shift. Changing under his hands. Smooth, soft skin rippled, almost like it was melting—then it stiffened, expanded and short thick hair spread across her flesh. He could hear her bones cracking as they realigned.
She grew, her slim form becoming large, bulky until she stood tall enough to stare him square in the eye. It was a quick shift, although the seconds seemed to tick by in slow, unending agony for Kel.
He let her go but didn’t back away as the shift completed. Kel hadn’t seen her shift before and for most, the big, hulking brute of a wolf-creature standing so close would probably be as intimidating as hell.
But all Kel felt was guilt and a faint sense of self-censure. Partly for not recognizing just how fragile Phoebe’s state of mind was. And partly for not realizing he’d been running this risk and not even thinking twice about it.
She cocked her head and stared at him. Her face looked like a badly rendered version of a Hollywood movie monster. But then, werewolves in this form weren’t the prettiest creatures in his experience. She breathed out and her breath whispered over him in a scalding hot caress.
She lifted a hand, reached out, touched his chest, but it wasn’t with the intent to hurt. Kel would have been happier if she had. He reached up and caught her wrist yet again. “I’m not into the furry sex scene, Phoebe.”
“You need me.”
Even in that deeper, growling voice, he would have to be deaf not to hear the plea. Even in her altered form, he’d have to be blind not to see the loneliness and pain in her gaze. It was so damn clear to him—now.
Why hadn’t he been able to see it before now?
“We’re not doing this,” he said, shaking his head when she eased forward. Although her body was larger, obviously more powerful, it was still clearly female, her torso covered by a pelt of short, fine fur before thickening out on her limbs.
“We aren’t normal people any more, Kel. We can’t have normal lives. We can’t have normal things.” Stroking one clawed digit down his chest, Phoebe rasped in her changed voice, “But we can have each other. We can have this.”
Kel’s fingers tightened around her wrist. In this form, it was easily three times as wide, probably as thick around as his own. The fine, silky fur was incongruously soft and on the deadly black curve of her claws, he could see the remnants of the blood-red polish she loved to slick on her nails.
Keeping his voice as gentle as he could, Kel said, “But I don’t want this.” He eased her wrist away and she jerked back, recoiling a few steps. Her shoulders slumped, her head bowed.
She stood there, utterly dejected.
For a moment, he thought it was done.
Turning, he headed out the door, his shirt and shoes still in hand. Out in the hall, the music from the club floor was louder, more vibrant, a hard, driving beat. He’d just made it back into the club when a whisper of warning danced along his spine. Her rage flooded the air and as though the rest of the bar’s occupants sensed the rage, on the other side of the door, the music ended abruptly.
Talking ceased.
In the doorway, he stilled and turned, one hand resting on the doorjamb as he looked back. Still in the wolf-creature form, she rushed him. He evaded her first attack, dropping his shirt and shoes to the ground and turned to meet her. “I don’t want to do this, Phoebe.”
“Too fucking bad—you don’t want to do what I want. So we do this,” she snarled. Her words were thicker, even deeper than they had been moments ago. Fury wrapped around her, tainting everything.
Tainting her.
“I don’t like hurting women, Phoebe,” he said, keeping his voice soft and low. It was nothing more than the truth. It wasn’t unavoidable but it never failed to leave him with a bad taste in his mouth.
And this was worse.
“You think you can hurt me?” she jeered. “Fucking stiff. Only been one of us for ten years… I’ve been this way longer than you’ve been alive. And you think you can hurt me?”
Kel didn’t bother wasting his breath explaining something that was obvious to him. He was a Hunter. He didn’t think he could hurt her. He knew he could.
Some enterprising soul apparently felt sorry for her. The guy who pushed between Phoebe and Kel was on the short side, balding, with a friendly smile. “You don’t want to pick a fight with a Hunter,
kid,” he said. He shot Kel a nervous glance over his shoulder and then looked back at Phoebe. “Nothing but trouble doing that.”
Phoebe snarled at him and struck out, attempting to knock him back. “Mind your own business.” She went around him and the good Samaritan gave her a faintly pitying look before melting back into the background.
Stalking up to him, she moved to strike again. As before, he slid away, sidestepping and moving around until he was behind her. She snarled, spun to face him, struck again. One obsidian claw caught his bare shoulder and once more, the scent of his own blood filled his nostrils.
It was enough to piss him off, but he still couldn’t move past the bitter regret and guilt choking him. “Phoebe, this isn’t you. The full moon’s too close,” he said, although he didn’t entirely believe it. “You’re letting it cloud things for you.”
Her lips peeled back from her teeth, revealing a long, jagged line of teeth that bore no resemblance to anything human. “How would you know? You only want to be with me long enough to fuck me.”
If he’d still been human, he would have blushed. As it was, several eyes slanted his way and he could feel it, it was enough to have his skin crawling with embarrassment. “I never made you think there could be anything more than that,” he said, shaking his head.
Phoebe growled. Slowly, she sank to the floor and crouched there but it was no way a good sign. He could see it, the slow, smooth coiling of her muscles. He braced himself.
When she lunged this time, he didn’t move out of the way. He reached out, caught her by the throat and lifted her until her feet left the ground. Her furred body arched, contorted. She spat and snarled, clawed at his hands.
Something inside him unfurled. That dreaded, hated part of him. It wasn’t strong yet and Kel hated to think what it would be like when it was strong. It was fear—but not his own. A nasty little magic trick, as far as he was concerned, something that let him use fear to cow those around him and he despised it. It rolled out of him and his peripheral vision revealed the effect as many of those gathered around them automatically fell back a few feet.
Hunter's Edge Page 10
