Slayer's Prey

by Crystal-Rain Love

  Thirty minutes later, he found himself back at his motel standing outside the door of his room, listening for sounds. There weren’t any, although he was sure Nyla was still inside. He’d left her handcuffed to his bed and put the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob so the maid wouldn’t find her and call the police. Nyla probably woke shortly after he left and had tired herself out trying to get free. He’d been sure she wouldn’t scream for help, knowing any chance of civility between them would be shot to hell if she did. She was probably just lying there, a seething ball of fury, waiting to unleash that anger on him the moment he walked through the door.

  Jake slid in his key card and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and knew he was in trouble the second his gaze fell on the empty bed, the handcuffs dangling from the headboard. Before he could prepare for the attack, he felt an arm snake around his neck and something sharp and pointy jutted into the middle of his back.

  “Don’t move.”

  He searched the room with his eyes as he heard Nyla close the door behind him. He didn’t see any evidence that she’d gone shopping for weapons, but she did have something pressed against his spine. He focused on the feel of the weapon, determining it was too small to be the barrel of a gun. He felt a tiny prick that felt like a knife tip, but judging by the amount of pressure against his back, he could turn and wouldn’t suffer anything more than a nick.

  “Don’t try anything stupid, Porter,” Nyla warned, increasing the pressure, as if she’d read his mind. “Make no illusions as to who is in control now.”

  “Whatever you want to believe, lady,” Jake growled, starting to get really pissed. He’d battled spirits and vamps, yet he was being held at knife point in his own motel room by a woman he outweighed by at least seventy pounds. That more than chafed his ego.

  “I thought we talked about those manners, Jakie. It’s kind of rude referring to someone as just ‘lady’ when you know their name, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jake managed to get out, despite Nyla’s forearm continuing to apply pressure against his windpipe. Damn, the woman was stronger than she looked. “What I meant to say was, whatever you want to believe, bitch.”

  “Ouch, Jakie, that hurts . . . almost as bad as this.” She accentuated her statement by tightening her hold.

  Jake struggled to breathe, to fight off the dizziness, but her hold was too tight, despite the fact she had to be standing on her toes to get him in that hold. If he had any hope of getting the upper hand, he had to break away now. She was tough, but she was smaller, and he was sure he could outmaneuver her.

  He quickly jammed his elbows back into her sides. She let out a gasp, loosening her hold on him while she tried to regain her breath, which was all he needed.

  He whirled around, hitting her in the side with the full length of his arm. Nyla skidded across the floor, a pen falling out of her hand as she came to a stop against the wall. Jake stared at the floor, frowning as his mind grappled with what he saw. A pen?

  “You held me at pen-point?” Jake bellowed, anger now mingling with indignity, as his gaze shot to her face.

  “Yeah, and don’t you feel like an ass,” Nyla said, her voice low and deep as she picked herself up off the floor. There was something dangerous glittering in her eyes, something warning him not to underestimate her. “I don’t appreciate being handcuffed.”

  “Speaking of which, how’d you get out of them?” he asked, eying her closely. He knew she was going to do something. He wasn’t sure what that something was, but he did know he wouldn’t like it.

  “It’s one of my skills,” she growled as she launched herself at him, succeeding in head-butting him in the stomach.

  Jake doubled over in pain, then snapped back up when Nyla belted his chin with an uppercut.

  “What the—” His words were cut off as he found himself belly down on the floor. Nyla was on his back trying to pin him. He tried to roll but the feel of his own gun, taken from his waistband and then pressed against the back of his head, stopped him cold. “If that’s another pen, I’m going to really be pissed.”

  NYLA CLICKED THE safety off Jake’s gun. “Does a pen make that sound?” She laced her tone with menace, trying to cover up the fact she was still reeling from the adrenaline surging through her due to their little tussle. She’d never thought she’d get him down so easily. There was a lot to be said for the element of surprise.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Funny how we remember our manners when we have guns pressed against our head, isn’t it?”

  He let out a pretty good snarl, almost as good as an angry cat’s. “Say what you have to say, Nyla.”

  “Why’d you handcuff me to your bed?”

  “I don’t know who you are. Why would I leave you alone in my room with weapons?”

  “You could have just taken the weapons, which, by the way, I want back immediately, and I already told you who I am. I came to you for help, not a showdown.”

  “Oh, I can see that.” Jake didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm. She could feel tension radiating off him, knew he was struggling to keep his temper in check. She felt the strength of that tension wash over her, and something about it made her warm and hungry inside. Absentmindedly, she ran her fingers down his back, wanting to feel the skin beneath his shirt.

  Jake must have noticed her loss of focus because he used that moment to roll over. She was still straddling him, and she still had the gun, but he didn’t look that scared of her.

  “We’ve been in two fights within twenty-four hours, Nyla. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Maybe you just can’t keep your hands off of me,” Nyla whispered, her voice low and husky, even a bit wistful. Small beads of sweat dotted Jake’s brow, and she had the strongest urge to taste them. The desire to run her tongue along his skin welled inside her, heating her from the inside. She bunched his T-shirt in her hand, ready to rip it off his body, planning to free herself of her own clothing afterward.

  Suddenly Jake was on top of her, and he had the gun. She was pinned and hadn’t done a thing to stop it from happening, hadn’t even seen it coming.

  “You’re not exactly an Amazon. A normal woman of your size could never have gotten me in that hold. Who are you, Nyla Katt, and what are you?”

  Nyla knew she should have been scared because he’d reversed positions, worried because he’d asked what she was, like he knew she wasn’t just a mere woman. She should be scared as hell because he was pointing a gun directly at her chest.

  But as her eyes roamed over his arms, delighting in the way the corded muscles bulged under his skin, she realized something much worse was happening to her.

  She was going—hell, had already gone—into heat.

  Chapter Six

  “GET OFF ME,” Nyla growled from behind clenched teeth.

  “How do I know you’re not going to try to off me with a pen or something?” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

  “Get. Off. Me.” Nyla closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of him on top of her, but in her mind’s eye she saw them both in several more interesting positions, none of which were incentive to stop the sudden heat pooling between her thighs. “Please, let me up,” she said, opening her eyes to risk a glance at the man above her.

  Maybe it was her pleading tone or the fear she was sure shone in her eyes, but with a frown, Jake slid backward, setting her free. For a second, she thought she saw guilt in his eyes, but she didn’t have time to decipher what he was feeling. She had to get away from him.

  She scrambled to her feet, abandoning her usual catlike grace, and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind her. She twisted the lock and turned to the sink, twisting the knob until water gushed full blast.

  “Nyla?”

  She ignored Jake’s call and the jiggling of the doorknob as she splashed the co
ol water on her face. It felt as if her skin was aflame and crawling with energy.

  “Nyla, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine!” She winced at the harshness in her voice and gripped the edge of the sink, fighting the tremors. They weren’t bad yet, but they would be unless she did something to stop them. She usually didn’t get them so quickly. Her nearness to Jake while in human form must have revved up her hormones. It made sense. The Heat was usually a purely physical desire, but her feelings for Jake intensified it. Fan-freaking-tastic.

  “Do you need anything?” Jake asked from just beyond the bathroom door, his tone indicating genuine concern.

  Yeah, the use of your penis, she wanted to say, but instead opted for, “You could get my weapons like I asked.”

  “I think we should discuss that.”

  “I think you should do as I say before we have another altercation.”

  “Nyla—”

  “I am in here with your razor, Jake. You can get me my damn gun like a good boy or I can come out there and go Lorena Bobbitt on your ass! Which scenario do you prefer?”

  She heard his footsteps and then the door closing as he left the room. Men. Threaten them with a little penis amputation, and they’d do anything.

  With Jake out of the motel room, some of the tension fueling her desire seeped away, allowing her to breathe a little easier. “Damn feline DNA,” she grumbled, splashing more water on her face.

  There were ways, she had come to learn, that she could hold off the Heat. Blood was one of them. Thanks to her vampire side, she enjoyed the taste of warm, flowing blood. The feel of it rolling over her tongue could be a nearly orgasmic experience, but when she fed she let Demarcus in. She couldn’t feed without the monster creeping inside her head. She could feel him in there, looking through her eyes, trying to sense where she was. Why? There were only two reasons she could think of.

  Revenge or domination.

  Neither were appealing so taking blood was out. She’d already fed recently, and she had a firm rule about taking blood. Never twice in the same city. Thank goodness she could go weeks between feedings.

  The cold water helped a little bit, soothed her heated flesh, but her insides were still a raging inferno. Sooner or later she would have to give in.

  So why not just jump Jake the moment he walked through the door? He was a man. He lived for sex. Hell, thanks to her and her jealousy, he hadn’t gotten any for a while. He probably wouldn’t mind at all.

  She stared at her wet face in the mirror and shook her head. She would not attack him like Slut-zilla, queen of the hoochie tribe. If there came a time when she could be with him in the way she’d dreamed of for years she wanted it to be his call. She wanted him to come to her, to know that he wanted her, Nyla, not the sex-starved animal she became when the Heat had her in its grip.

  She’d have to wait it out. Supposedly, that could be done. It took about two weeks. Two weeks of agonizing, burning, itching, skin-crawling, tremor-inducing desire. She usually made it about four days and grabbed the closest thing with testicles.

  Making it past four days in human form with Jake was impossible, how could she make it two weeks? Dammit!

  She heard the room’s door shut, then, “Nyla?”

  Double-dammit! The sound of Jake’s deep voice caressed her skin like silk, making the desire churn more fiercely inside her.

  “Nyla?” He was by the bathroom door now, his scent wafting underneath it to reach out to her. She started to choke on desire. “I have your weapons, but I’m not going to just give them to you.”

  Damn him. A wave of anger crashed through her, and she could feel the Heat draw back a bit. Not much, but enough that she could breathe evenly, and that gave her an idea. If she could stay mad, use the anger to dissipate her sexual needs . . .

  “Nyla?” Worry came through in his voice.

  “I heard you, dammit!” She turned off the tap and swung around to jerk open the door, meeting Jake’s steely gaze. She closed her eyes against the too-hot-to-handle sight of him standing before her and carefully dodged past him, making sure no part of their bodies touched. Skin to skin contact was so not what she needed at the moment. She needed anger.

  “Are you all right?” he asked cautiously.

  “What the hell do you care?” she asked, spinning around to face him, using her anger as a shield against his attractiveness. “You chained me to a frigging bed and then knocked me across the room!”

  “You had a knife, or what I thought was a knife, against my back!” he shouted back, his expression incredulous.

  “I did that because you chained me to a bed!”

  “I handcuffed you. I did not chain you!”

  “I’m sorry,” she drawled scornfully. “Is there a difference?”

  Jake opened his mouth as if to speak, but then must have thought better of it. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to say. Nyla couldn’t read him as well when she was in human form. In cat form, he was an open book.

  “In answer to your earlier question of what I am, I am not a monster, Jake.” It was easy letting anger roil along with those words. “I can kick your ass because it’s what I’ve practiced for years. It’s what I’ve trained for. I’m a hunter. I catch dangerous men and sometimes demons. You know as well as I do that I can’t just slap them around. I have to hurt them. If you can’t take a beating like a man, deal with it, but don’t you dare start questioning what I am as if I’m something you hunt just because I bested you.”

  “Wait a damn second!” Jake bellowed. “You didn’t kick my ass. You snuck up on me with what appeared to be a knife. We tussled, maybe, but there was no ass-kicking. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Nyla snapped, placing her fists on her hips. “Did I hurt your sensitive male pride?”

  He started to respond, and she could tell that whatever he said would be loud and smart-mouthed, but then he paused, and she watched some of the spark burn out of his eyes before he lowered his gaze to the floor. “The only thing hurting my pride is knowing I knocked you across a room, which I only did because I thought you had a knife to my back. I don’t get off on smacking women around, Nyla.”

  Damn. So much for directing her anger towards him, Nyla thought, realizing it had been guilt she’d seen in his eyes when he backed away from her earlier. It was hard to be pissed at a guy who already felt like crap, particularly when he’d just been defending himself.

  “You didn’t hit me, Porter. It was more of a shove, and like you said, you thought I had a knife. Chivalry is nice, but when it gets you killed, it’s just plain stupidity.” As she spoke, she felt the desire starting to rise again. Desperately, she searched for words which would bring back some of her anger. “Besides, I’m some sort of a monster, remember?”

  “I don’t know what you are.” Jake raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. “You’re the toughest chick I’ve ever met, but still, you’re a chick. Maybe I just don’t expect a lot of fire out of you, so I’m surprised when I get it.”

  Nyla unfisted her hands and folded her arms. “Except for the chick reference, which is annoying since I don’t recall hatching from an egg, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

  “Lap it up then. I don’t hand out compliments often, and I still don’t trust you.”

  “Shocker there,” she commented, laying on the sarcasm, and realized she’d spent enough time with Jake that she’d adopted his smart aleck attitude.

  The thought almost made her smile, which consequently made her desire ratchet up another notch. She quickly tore her gaze away from Jake’s chest, fighting the urge to rip away his dark T-shirt and explore the hard planes beneath, but she found that staring up into his eyes wasn’t much improvement.

  Their green depths seemed brighter, the honey-brown edge surrounding
his irises darker. Together, mixed with the intensity of his gaze, they stole her breath away.

  “Nyla?”

  The deep timbre of his voice reached out to her like a phantom hand, stroking her intimately. She tried to breathe, but the desire filled her from the inside, pushing all the air out of her lungs. She was drowning, and she wouldn’t survive unless she released the pressure building inside her body.

  “Nyla?” Jake reached out to her, and she felt her walls of protection start to crumble, blasted apart by the hormonal furor raging inside her.

  His hand touched her arm and her insides turned liquid, causing her body to sway toward his. There was a second where, as she gazed into his eyes, she saw a matching hunger reflected in his gaze. It could have been her imagination, or maybe she was drunk on lust and everyone looked as hot and bothered as she felt, but she couldn’t be sure because she only had that one second before she knew she wasn’t alone in her own mind.

  She snapped her eyes shut before Demarcus’s power could reach them and backed away from Jake. “Don’t touch me,” she said, and tasted her own fear on her tongue.

  She started rebuilding the metaphysical walls in her mind, struggling to push Demarcus’s dark presence out and force down the Heat at the same time. It wasn’t easy. Demarcus fought against her, pressing his power against hers, straining to burst through the new wall she was putting up in haste. She could feel him searching the wall, trying to find one loose brick so he could force himself in, but metaphysical walls, built with strength, power and determination, didn’t give way so easily.

  “Nyla.”

  “Shut up, J—”

  The moment she started to say his name, some other voice, which didn’t belong to Demarcus said, Hide him. Don’t say his name. Don’t reveal him.

  She didn’t question the voice. It was the same one that had sent her to that dark alley sixteen years earlier, the same voice which sent her to protect Jake. She felt Demarcus’s power battering against her walls and knew he’d heard the voice too.