She brushed away the tears blurring her eyes. Slowly, she met his gaze, protecting herself by narrowing hers until he lifted a hand in surrender.
“I have no intentions of taking a mate of any kind,” she said. “I want to be free.”
His eyes darkened. He backed away suddenly, dumping his coffee into the sink. He turned to face her. “I am leaving.”
“You’re going home?” She straightened. “As in alone?”
“Taip. I will tell Council I need time. Vesper can use help with children.”
His sister’s Carrier had been killed a few years ago, leaving her behind to raise twin werewolves by herself. “I can help too. What about us?” Her face heated. “We’re hunting partners,” she clarified.
He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “What is this, us?” he said.
“That was low.”
“It is your choice.”
“My . . .” She tried to remember what she’d just said, was so upset that she couldn’t. “Lothar,” she whispered. “Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m not myself.”
“I know.” Finally, he looked at her, eyes still black. “All good things come to end.”
“Do they have to?”
“Are you going to meet him?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Do not make harder than already is. It is time to part ways. We both knew was coming.”
He made her so angry. She wanted to yell at the top of her lungs. She wanted to rip him to shreds. She wanted him to haul her into his arms, pull her under his taut body, and make love to her like no woman had ever been loved before.
So much for choosing freedom over men.
“We did? Really?” she said. “Because someone forgot to send me the memo, Boss.”
He growled and she followed, matching his intensity. “Think I like this?” he asked.
“I don’t know what to think anymore.” They circled each other, two predators face to face.
“I stayed like promised. But you stopped needing me long time ago. Now is time I move on with life.”
“Just like that? You just decide to move on?”
He was asking for it. Her patience had worn completely thin. Danielle bared her teeth. He showed his, the both of them snarling and subhuman, ready to shift into wolves at any moment. The sound echoed in the tiny cabin.
Danielle shoved him. Bigger than her, he didn’t budge. Lothar grabbed hold of both her wrists to stop her. She fought him, taking swipes with her fangs at his face and neck, but he held her away with hands like vice grips, pinning and turning her so her back was against his chest and she couldn’t bite him. She hadn’t felt this out of control in years. All she could think about was sinking her teeth into him. His arms wound tightly around her, her arms caught beneath. She was trapped.
“Breathe,” he said.
Relaxation exercises? She was too far gone to care. “Let me go and I will run it off.”
“What is this, let go?”
“Funny. Get a dictionary. Now let me go.”
He rested his forehead against the top of her head. Quiet, still. He was turning inward to control his temper, but she didn’t want to control hers.
She strained against him. “I hate you.”
He had the audacity to laugh.
Her throat constricted. The human female was emerging. She broke down, pulling uselessly against him, tears streaming. “Lothar, you prick,” she cried. “Let go of me.”
Slowly, he released her. Danielle turned to face him.
He didn’t look angry anymore. He looked, well, sort of like he did at his prey when he was overly hungry. Danielle’s breath hitched as Lothar reached out, smoothing her hair back. Her pulse leaped in her throat and she felt like she really did hate him for not having her. But she still wanted him. She wanted to leave him. She wanted to follow him anywhere.
What on earth was wrong with her?
He tipped her chin up, gazing at her, his eyes black laced with silver. His scent had changed . . . something . . . She felt confusion, anger.
Need.
He lowered his head and kissed her. Unprepared, she gasped, yanking back. He waited for her to make up her mind. Danielle launched herself into arms that took her firmly, surrounding her with his warmth and his scent. She arched her back to him, kissing him hard with strangled need.
He caught up her hands, stilling her. “Easy,” he mouthed.
“I-don’t-want-to,” she panted, writhing against him.
He laughed. It wasn’t arrogant. His eyes were still black from his own excitement, but his expression had softened. Slowly, he released her hands and drew her back into him. He kissed her again. She was shaking. Violently.
Too much, she thought. Too pent up for too long. She could try and fool herself, like she had for years, but she definitely had needs, and they’d gone long unmet. Danielle worked one hand free and tried to get at the buttons on his shirt. She’d told Nick once that she was no man’s territory, but oh, God, she wanted to belong to this one. The strength of it scared her.
“Lothar . . .” She came up on her toes, her chin lifted to him, her fingers working at his shirt. “Fix it. Like you fix everything. Fix me, please.”
He caught her face in both hands, kissed her forehead. “Easy,” he said. “I need you to be calm.”
She jerked back, out of his arms. She was shaking and gasping for air. “You’re such an idiot.”
“You need to hear me.”
“Oh, I hear you. I’ve heard you longer than anyone. Ever. And I’ve heard all I can take.” Danielle felt her mouth filling with venom.
He shook his head. “So much you still do not know.”
“Then teach me. What’s wrong with me that you don’t teach me.”
With a growl he grabbed her, pulling her close and knocking the wind out of her. Even though they were the same species, he was proportionally stronger.
Danielle wasn’t sure what happened after that, but her fangs were in him, sinking under the skin of his neck. She felt her venom release into his body so hard it hurt her.
Assaulted by the taste of blood in her mouth and the sudden strain on her venom glands, she pulled free and stumbled back a step.
She’d bitten him. Worse than that, she’d marked him.
“I shouldn’t have.” Danielle turned to the sink and rinsed her mouth out. She stood there bracing herself against the counter, unwilling to face him. He had his own venom, so it wouldn’t make him sick. But it wouldn’t feel good either. Not to mention he would know why she’d bitten him.
To mark him as hers.
But he wasn’t a Carrier. He couldn’t give her children. How could she want him this badly? Casual relations only. It was the law, and the vast majority of her kind accepted it willingly. What was wrong with her?
“I will not leave you,” he said, his voice strained. “I never should have said I would. I am sorry for hurting you.”
She broke down, sliding to her knees on the bare wooden floor. Why did he have to apologize? How was she supposed to resist this . . . whatever he was doing to her, when he apologized?
She heard him peel off his shirt. He was probably bleeding on it. Danielle used the sink for support and lifted herself to her feet, followed him into his room. The muscles in his back shifted as he pulled out the med bag with a wince. Not only did he have to deal with the bite, but her venom was burning through his veins.
It pierced her heart, the way he looked so alone, prepared to care for the wound himself, so incomplete without her.
She touched his shoulder, urging him around so she could see it. Danielle cringed. It was brutal, much deeper than the bite she’d given Nick.
“I’m going to have to stitch this,” she said hoarsely. He would heal on his own, but medical attention sped the process and stopped the bleeding. “Sit down.”
He did as she asked, sitting on the bed. She took up the bag, finding gauze. “I’m not normal,” she said quietly, in her own kind of apo
logy.
“I am not normal,” he said.
She knew the things he’d been exposed to as a child had scarred him.
“Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t understand why you stay with me.”
He caught her hand. “Maybe that is why I stay. We are alike.”
They were both basket cases? Yes, probably. She watched his long, powerful fingers over hers. Noticed how his blood now stained her hands.
“I will be here as long as you want me,” Lothar said.
“I want you.”
Heat flared her cheeks and she pulled her hand away. She busied herself in the bag, taking out a hypodermic needle and a vial of Novocain.
“Let me know when,” she said.
“I am ready.”
She numbed the site around the bite then stitched him with a careful hand. Lothar winced occasionally, making her wince along with him. It seemed like he was past the pain from her venom though. Gone but not forgotten. She was in his blood. It had worked entirely through his body.
“This will scar.” She took up a gauze pad and laid it gently over the wound to bandage it.
“I do not care.”
“I care. Lothar, I feel like I’m ruining your life.”
“Ne.” His tone surprised her. He was completely decided. “You save life.”
She shook her head, taping the dressing into place, her heart hammering. “What is this, save life?” she mimicked his accent.
His brow furrowed. He probably had no idea how to explain himself. “I am not like uncle.”
“I know you’re not like your uncle.”
“You keep me.”
She stopped, lowering her hands to her sides. “Are you saying I keep you from turning into your uncle?”
“Taip.”
“Ne. You do that all on your own.”
He laughed. “So much you do not know.”
His black hair wasn’t in its perfectly groomed state anymore. She ran trembling fingers through it, not really helping, but she thought she should try. His hair was smooth and glossy, like his thick wolf’s hide.
“Then tell me,” she said.
She hadn’t realized he was watching her until she went to pull away. His eyes were dark again. “There are no words,” he said.
“In Lithuanian.”
“Not even then.” He took her hand and brought it to his face, smelling her wrist.
“Oh,” she sounded.
Standing, with her hand in his, he gazed down at her. She wanted desperately to tuck herself under his chin. She couldn’t move though, trapped as usual, by his mere presence.
She’d marked him as hers.
She’d marked two males.
He brushed her hair from her neck and tipped her face to one side, smelling her throat. She felt his body heat though only his hands touched her. His scent was something she knew well, but it had changed, was more potent, and now it was making her lightheaded.
“I cannot stay here with you,” he breathed. Lothar pulled away suddenly and turned his back to her.
She watched his shoulders heave, heard the tension in his breath, realized she too was gasping for air. Danielle tried to speak, but even her voice wouldn’t work.
He took out a fresh shirt, staring at it in his hand as if deciding whether or not to put it on. She looked at his bed, reeling inside.
“Lothar?” she managed. How did a girl go about asking her best friend if he wanted to deflower her?
He pulled his shirt over his head, ran his hands through his hair. “I need to go.”
“Lothar, prašau,” she said in Lithuanian. Please.
“I cannot.”
“Yes. Yes, you can. You can have me whenever you want.”
He turned swiftly, cupping her cheek in his hand. She thought he would bend his head to hers but he held back. He didn’t even try to use English. She translated in her head as he spoke. “We cannot do this now. We both need to get control of ourselves before we do something we will regret.”
She forced herself not to cry in front of him. She’d never felt more rejected, not even when her adoptive parents had disowned her.
Lothar’s hand slid away and he left the room. She heard him take up his keys.
“Are you coming?” he said.
He was shutting her out.
Unbelievable.
She followed. “Once you’re gone, I’ll go join Amanda and Fredrick’s pack.”
He seemed confused. “I will not let go.”
“I don’t care what you do.” She brushed past him.
He caught her arm. “No matter what you decide, I will be there. I protect you, brangioji.”
He knew now that she wanted him like no one ever, and he still wouldn’t have her.
“I thought you were my friend,” she said.
“I am your friend.”
“I thought you cared enough.”
He shook his head, didn’t seem to understand. What, did she have to draw stick figures for him?
“You are . . .” She realized just how hard it really was to express feelings with words. “You are everything.”
His chin lifted. She heard his breath quicken.
“And you won’t . . . I need you to . . . never mind.” She walked out to the van.
Lothar didn’t say anything to her the entire ride over. He was turned so far inward that no one could reach him. It was excruciating, like her heart was being torn in two and one half was inside his skull with whatever he was thinking.
When they pulled up in front of the diner she unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’ll see you later then,” she said, aware of the edge in her voice.
“Wait.” His fingers closed over her wrist. His hand was shaking. He was barely in control. “I not . . . leave you on ice.”
Lithuanian idioms did not translate well into English. He was still trying to apologize for threatening to walk out on her. He was missing the bigger picture though.
“Go run it off,” she said, pulling free. She slid out of the van, shutting the door behind her.
He squealed away from the curb.
Danielle stood there a moment, watching him drive the van through a red light, a horn honking after. Danielle rubbed her hands over her arms, recalling the heat of him, and feeling chilly and alone.
She turned into the diner and found Kendra at the counter. Kendra looked up, read the expression on her face, and came out from behind it.
“What’s wrong? I haven’t seen Nick yet. I’m sure he’ll be down soon.”
Nick? Nick who? Her brains were scrambled.
“Yeah. About Nick,” Danielle said finally. “Can you tell him I’m not feeling well?”
Danielle nodded. Yes, not feeling well, that was the ticket. She imagined herself biting Lothar in hopes of making her stomach nauseous. It didn’t work the way she’d planned. She was pretty sure her face was flushed however.
Kendra lifted her brows, then her eyes flicked over Danielle. “In that sweater and jeans, maybe it is better I give him the news myself. You’ll kill him.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Leave it to her to embarrass herself by not following mortal customs.
“I was only joking,” Kendra said. “I didn’t really think you were trying to make him miserable.”
“Why would I want him to be miserable? Who likes being miserable? I don’t.” She frowned to herself.
Kendra grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her into the kitchen. The cook was calling out orders and Steph was whisking plates through a window in the wall.
“I had this same talk with him,” Kendra said. “I don’t want to see either of you hurt. He’s been chewed up and spit out before. He’s more sensitive than he lets onto, you know. Nick has what I call an old soul. He’s always been like that, even before the military.”
Danielle could sympathize, understanding Nick’s need for answers. He knew he was different, but he had no idea why.
“I’m sorry to lay all this on you,” Kendra s
aid. “I’m not usually like this. Must be stress, or something.”
Danielle wasn’t sure how to comfort another woman. She patted Kendra’s shoulder. “I have thick skin.”
“Sometimes I think my skin is too thick. I always work through everything. When we found out we couldn’t have children, I just kept working.”
Jason had not been compatible with mortal women.
Danielle heard keys jingling upstairs. Nick was on his way down.
“Is he getting too serious for you?” Kendra said. “I should have thought of that.”
Danielle wasn’t sure what to say. The trouble with females of any species was that they were instinctive. The door opened and then closed upstairs.
“Never let a man move faster than you’re ready for,” Kendra said.
How about years? Kendra was right about Nick though. He was moving too fast. And Lothar was a snail.
“Speaking of.” Kendra glanced over Danielle’s shoulder.
She could smell Nick behind her, and darn it but he smelled really good.
“You came,” he said as she turned. “I was just going to get you.”
“Here ya go,” Kendra said. Danielle looked up as she passed a picnic basket to Nick.
“Thanks.”
Kendra met Danielle’s gaze. “Hey, Nick, do something for me and loan out Danielle for a sec.”
“I don’t know. She’s a busy girl. She hardly has enough time for me.”
Wow, Nick and Lothar were a startling contrast. Lothar made her feel like a barren desert. Nick like she was being waterboarded.
“I’ll be right out,” she told him.
“Promise?”
She shooed him off, getting annoyed with all the attention. “Yes, now go.”
Kendra looked at Danielle squarely. “It’s okay to ask him to slow down. Tell him you like him too much to mess this up. He’ll understand.”
Or he might not. She didn’t know exactly what he was experiencing. Her pheromones were probably screaming to him at ear-shattering decibels.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Danielle said.
“It usually is. You’ll be okay though. Just stand your ground.”
Stand her ground. What exactly was her ground, anyway?
Kendra backed away. “Have fun. Don’t stay out too late.” She held her hand to the side of her face. “I’ll call you later.”
Tangled Moon Page 11
