TherianPrey

by Cyndi Friberg

  She cringed at the reminder of her careless charge. She hadn’t meant it as an accusation. She just hadn’t been thinking when she chose her illustration. “How long did it take you to figure out how to control it?”

  “As with any Therian ability, mine grew stronger with age. Luckily, as the female reaction to me became stronger, I found the path within myself and figured out how to open and close it.” Quinn related the facts with casual indifference, as if he were no longer talking about himself. She recognized the defense mechanism, having used it herself from time to time.

  “You said there was another time when the woman had an unusually strong reaction to your pulse,” Carissa prompted, not wanting to hear a detailed list of his conquests.

  He’d crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee. He looked restless and edgy, apparently as uncomfortable with the topic as she was. “I dated a woman about four years ago who was into designer drugs. If she was high when we had sex, she was wild for days.”

  “You think Jillian was high when your pulse hit her?” She really didn’t want to hear about his sexual exploits.

  “My best guess is exstasy. It stimulates the pleasure center of the brain and releases a person’s inhibitions. It’s the perfect boost for my ability.” He fiddled with the buckle on his boot, voice tense and resigned.

  Carissa touched his knee, drawing his attention back to her. “What happened to Jillian, you know, after all that?”

  “There was no after,” he snapped, rolling away from her again. “Russell was locked up by the time she came down and he refused to see her. The story of her behavior spread like wildfire and her network treated her like a whore. By the time Russell calmed down enough to start asking questions, it was too late.”

  The gravity in his tone led to only one conclusion. The question hung on the tip of her tongue, a final barrier between her and the truth. “She…killed herself?” Quinn nodded and her heart constricted, momentarily stealing her breath. She felt horrible for the couple who had been destroyed by the situation. Jillian’s life had ended much too soon. But Quinn must be riddled with guilt. Regardless of his intentions, his actions had led to an innocent woman’s death. “So Ian swore to kill you if you ever switched on another female.”

  “As if I needed to be told!” Quinn grated out the words between clenched teeth as he slowly pushed to his feet. “Her face haunts me every fucking day. She was mated, for God’s sake. I thought she would run straight to her husband and he would take care of her needs. They would have one last night together before Russell answered for his crimes. I had no idea… There was no need for Ian’s crusade. No power on earth could make me do it again.”

  She took a step toward him, but he strode to the ladder and scrambled down to the main floor. “I’m sorry,” she said to the empty loft, hoping he’d hear her. She’d honestly thought it would be good for them to share a bit more of themselves. She needed to reconcile her impression of Quinn with the way he was treated by others.

  Suddenly a stray fact reached the surface of her memory. Erin had said Quinn had been banished by the network. They’d made him a social pariah, adding insult to injury. He’d been doing his job. He had no way of knowing that Jillian would react so powerfully to the pulse.

  She moved closer to the railing, so she could see the living room below. He sat on the sofa, booted feet propped on the scuffed coffee table. “Are there Therian prisons? How are shapeshifters incarcerated?”

  A smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he glanced up at her. “Are you sure you’re not a reporter?”

  “I can’t help it.” She folded her arms on the peeled-log railing and smiled. “I’m part cat.”

  He slowly shook his head and folded his arms over his chest, accenting the bulk of his muscular arms. “There’s a Therian prison in the Yukon wilderness, but Therians are more interested in justice for victims than the rehabilitation of criminals so we have far fewer prisoners than humans.”

  Now there was a concept that deserved further discussion, but she’d obviously annoyed him enough for one night.

  A knock drew his attention to the front door. “It’s probably Landon, but stay there.”

  Stay there. She was starting to hate the phrase. It rolled off the tongues of Therian males with frustrating regularity. Their instinctual need to protect her only shined a glaring light on her inability to protect herself. She needed to learn how to fight, or they needed to teach her how to access her latent abilities so she wouldn’t be so helpless.

  Quinn opened the door and muttered a greeting to the blond man standing on the porch. The newcomer wasn’t as tall as Quinn, but he managed to emanate the subtle menace Carissa had sensed in other Therian males. His hair was a unique blending of silver, gold and bronze. Humans would think he’d spent a fortune having highlights and lowlights threaded through his wavy hair, but she suspected the combination was entirely natural. His body was compact and lean, his features striking rather than classically handsome.

  “My men are in place. Is there something specific we should be looking for?”

  So this was Landon. Why was a wolf-shifter helping a powerful cat clan? Weren’t the wolves supposed to be in league with Osric?

  “The shooter took off in a dark-blue truck, but it’s unlikely they’ll send the same man.” Quinn dug the transceivers out of his pocket and handed them to Landon. “I’ll give you ten minutes to pass these out then activate the grid.”

  As they shifted position to make the exchange, Landon spotted Carissa and paused. With his pale-blue gaze focused on her and light shining in his unusual hair, Carissa felt even more vulnerable than she had when she met tiger-biker Jake.

  Landon inclined his head in silent greeting and Carissa did the same.

  “Jake’s crew will be back in the morning,” Landon told Quinn and left without another word.

  Quinn shut and locked the door, pausing with his back against the solid wood panel. “Now where were we?” He stared up at her, his gaze dark and brooding.

  “I’m sorry about the inquisition. I didn’t realize the event would still be so painful.”

  “You’re full of shit, sweetheart.” He pushed off the door and moved toward her. Each step was slow and measured, as if he stalked a lesser being, deciding how best to devour his prey. “Only something painful could create that sort of hostility. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

  He was right. She’d had a pretty good idea where the story led, just hadn’t imagined the end would be quite so harrowing. “Do you want to know something about me? I’m willing to give as good as I get.”

  With inhuman strength he leapt from the floor of the cabin to the loft. She scrambled back with a startled gasp, hand pressed over her heart.

  “Why don’t you get naked, so I can put that claim to the test?”

  Chapter Seven

  Carly straightened her jacket and smoothed her skirt as dread twisted through her abdomen. “Have I done something wrong?”

  “I have no idea.” The amusement in Osric’s dark eyes only added to her anxiety. “I was told to fetch you, and that’s what I’ve done. You will refer to the men as sir, and the woman as ma’am. You are not allowed to ask questions.”

  They stood in the corridor outside the conference room, the only office in the complex from which global communications were possible. Every other office had limited access and the available access was monitored. “They’re our employers, not psychotic dictators.”

  His eyebrow arched in silent challenge as he reached for the door handle. He swung the door open and motioned her inside. “Have a seat.” Osric waited until she obeyed, and then he closed the door, leaving her alone in the room.

  The oval table could seat eight comfortably. She wasn’t even sure how many “backers” there were. Unsure what was expected of her, she chose a chair near the middle of the table and sat. She’d made presentations in this room and had attended other people’s presentations, but she’d never been summoned by t
he backers before.

  Had they learned of her sexual escapades with Officer Samuels? The young man had been embarrassed by how quickly he came the first time, so he’d made sure she found release twice before he came the second time. Surely she wouldn’t be dismissed for one night’s indiscretion.

  The massive screen at the far end of the room illuminated then divided into six rectangular panels. So this was to be a video-interrogation. Carly sat up straight and folded her hands on the tabletop. The top three panels activated as the backers arrived. With glossy black hair and almond-shaped eyes, the woman in the middle appeared to be of Asian descent. The man on her right had very short gray hair and light-blue eyes. He might not be in uniform, but Carissa could spot the watchful bearing of a career military man anywhere. The man on the left was harder to define. His longish brown hair was a sharp contrast to his piercing dark stare. With swarthy skin and a diamond stud winking from his earlobe, he reminded her of a pirate. A pirate, a general and Madam Butterfly? An interesting mix.

  “You are Dr. Ides?” Madam Butterfly asked.

  “I am.”

  “How are you coping with compound life? Our expectations are not easy.”

  Concern was the last thing she’d expected. And somehow she didn’t believe a word of it. “I understand the need for discretion. The possible ramifications of what we’ve discovered are unbelievable. Without careful control…it will be pandemonium.”

  “We agree.” The pirate spoke English with a European accent, Spanish or Italian, Carly wasn’t sure. “You seem to grasp the gravity of this situation better than your coworkers. We are impressed by your accomplishments as well as your attitude.”

  She nodded. Osric had told her not to ask questions, but she was about to ignore his advice. “What would you like me to do?”

  The general came right to the point. “We don’t trust Osric. When push comes to shove, he’s one of them.”

  “He claims he is reestablishing his rightful place within the power structure of the Therian nation, but we have our doubts,” Madam Butterfly told her. “If he were truly reclaiming his rightful place, he wouldn’t need our assistance.”

  “You’re using him while he believes he’s using you?” Anticipation tingled through Carly. Dangerous situations had always turned her on, and her work environment was about to become a lot more exciting.

  “Look at her eyes.” The pirate chuckled. “We’ve chosen well, my friends.”

  “Dr. Ides, we need you to get close to Osric.” Madam Butterfly moved closer to the camera, her expression intense and assessing. “Find out everything he’s not telling us. Things he would only confess to a lover. We will make it worth your while in ways you can only imagine.”

  Carly tensed. Osric had made his interest in her obvious from the beginning. Getting close to him would be no problem. Suppressing her revulsion while he had his way with her would be the hardest struggle of her life.

  “Can you do it?” the general asked. “You don’t look pleased by the idea.”

  “What I want to do and what I’m willing to do are two very different things. Osric has been sniffing after me for weeks. All I have to do to gain his attention is stop pushing him away.”

  “Very good.” The general nodded, obviously pleased with the outcome. “I have another meeting, but Roberto will set you up with an access code so you can get in touch with us.”

  “Welcome aboard,” Madam Butterfly said, and then she and the general blinked off, leaving Carly with the pirate, whose name, apparently, was Roberto.

  * * * * *

  Quinn advanced on Carissa, not stopping until her back pressed against the wall of the loft. Their trip down memory lane had left him irritable and restless. She’d ruthlessly stripped him bare and now he intended to return the favor.

  “This isn’t what I meant.” Her tone was breathless and shaky, but her eyes dilated and color deepened across her cheeks, making her claim hard to believe.

  “Maybe not, but it’s what we need.”

  “What about the security grid?” She gestured toward the desk.

  “Let me worry about that.”

  She glanced into his eyes then looked away, adorably flustered. “We can’t do this. You know we can’t.”

  He slipped his hand into the back of her hair and formed a careful fist. His cat paced, anxious and eager. He accepted the urgency without absorbing the possessive demand. “When did you last use the Heat kit?”

  She started to reply when his phone vibrated, emitting a low, moaning sound. He released her hair with a muttered curse and pulled the phone from his pocket. Landon’s text said his men were in position, so Quinn crossed to the desk and activated the security grid. Then he pushed both chairs in, freeing up the floor, and turned around. “No more interruptions.” She stood where he’d left her, near the wall, flushed and fidgety. “Come here.” He held out his hand.

  She shook her head. “I won’t let you define me.”

  He crossed the room and caged her with his arms, not trusting himself to touch her. “If I’d wanted to define you by force, I wouldn’t have stopped last night.” Pressing his face against her hair, he drew in her scent, allowing the warmth to soothe him. The faintest trace of fear tainted her evocative musk and he tensed. “I will never hurt you. Do you believe that?” He eased back and looked into her eyes.

  “Not intentionally.” She stared up at him, gaze wide and earnest rather than challenging. “I know you want to protect me, but there’s so much in life we don’t control.”

  Curving his fingers around the back of her neck, he traced the underside of her jaw with his thumb while he searched her eyes. He felt a whole hell of a lot more for her than protectiveness, but she didn’t understand the significance of their connection. Never before had his body locked in sync with a female. He’d given up hope of ever finding a potential mate, and then all of the sudden the impossible had happened. He’d found a female capable of trusting him, a female compatible with his unique physiology. Which didn’t mean she’d accept him! It just meant they were compatible when and if he managed to convince her he was a worthy mate.

  “Answer my question. When did you last use the Heat kit?” He angled his thumb up and brushed her lower lip.

  “This morning.”

  He moved closer, his legs touching hers. “Mist or cream?”

  “Mist.”

  After tilting her head back, he bent and pressed his mouth over hers. It wasn’t really a kiss, just a momentary contact to reacquaint his lips with the softness of hers. “Are your senses still muted or has the mist worn off?” His lips moved against hers as he spoke, his breath warming her skin.

  “I’m not sure.” She shifted restlessly, her legs intertwining with his. “I’m not as crazy as I was in the truck, but I…”

  “You what?” He ignored the urge to grab her hair, to crush her against his chest and kiss her into submission. Each time he gave in to his aggressive needs, he brought his cat closer to the surface.

  “I want you.”

  Her whispered admission sent desire spiraling through him, igniting his senses and stoking fires already ablaze. He took her face between his hands and claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss. Pressing her firmly against the wall with the entire length of his body, he forced his cat back through sheer strength of will.

  His tongue teased her lips, waiting for her to open before venturing beyond the silken portal. Her mouth was warm and her tongue greeted his with a playful curl. Their breaths mingled and their lips meshed as he took the kiss deeper. She tilted her head, bringing their mouths into better alignment as their tongues slid from one mouth to the other.

  She was so damn sweet, he wanted to devour her, to touch her and taste her until she was as wild for him as he was for her.

  Untucking his t-shirt, she slipped her hands inside the clingy material and groaned as she encountered his heated skin. In response, he tore her knit shirt off over her head and unfastened her bra. She hesitated for a m
oment then slipped the undergarment off and tossed it aside.

  He sank to his knees and pressed his face against her breasts, wrapping his arm around her thighs. “You’re perfect.” An abrupt chuckle vibrated her soft flesh and made him look up.

  “You’re lust crazed. Any willing female will seem perfect to you right now.” Despite her dismissive tone, she didn’t quite conceal the insecurity in her gaze.

  With more assertiveness than he’d intended to unleash, he pulled her away from the wall and lowered her to the carpeted floor. She gasped and extended her arms protectively, but he was beyond caution, beyond human compromise. No Therian male allowed his mate to be maligned, regardless of the source.

  He parted her legs and knelt between her thighs then arched over her and pinned her hands above her head. Her breasts quivered with each breath, the nipples rosy points. He bent to one and sucked, scraping the hard little peak against his teeth as he let go.

  Shifting both wrists into one hand, he freed the other so he could touch her. “Your skin is incredibly soft and I love the way your body responds to me.” He caressed the underside of her breast then worked the tip into an even tighter peak.

  Each gasp and groan fueled his determination to erode her emotional defenses. She needed to understand that this was about more than physical pleasure. No Therian approached sex with the casual indifference so prevalent among humans.

  She turned her face to the side and closed her eyes.

  Was she concentrating on the sensations or tuning him out? Possessiveness spread through him like a cancer, devouring the softer emotions, demanding attention as it spiked his lust. “Who’s touching you?”

  “You are.” Her lashes fluttered then she opened her eyes, their blue depths unfocused and murky.

  “Say my name.”

  “Quinn.” They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long, tense moment. Then she arched her back, pushing her breasts toward him. “Please, more.”

  Thrilled by her offer, he let go of her wrists and pulled her body up toward his waiting mouth. He teased and sucked, licked and nibbled, addicted to the feel of her beaded flesh sliding against his tongue. She buried her fingers in his hair and pushed herself deeper into his mouth, her cries of pleasure urging him on.