“If you guys had cubs, they could probably burp the entire constitution of the United States,” Chelsea pointed out. “How can you deprive the world of such talent?”
“True, true,” Erika mused. “All right, I’ll go talk to him on one condition. Come with me and talk to Roman. Look him in the eye. Ask him if he Mate-Marked that bitch. And if he did, for God’s sake, tell him he’s an assface or punch him or something. Get some closure.”
“Well.” Chelsea hesitated. Over the years, she’d gotten so used to moving on that she’d never even thought about fighting to stay somewhere she felt unwanted. But here she had people asking her to stay. And Erika was right—she shouldn’t let Roman get away with screwing her over. She wanted to look him in the eye and tell him how much his lies had hurt her. If he didn’t care, that was on him.
“I can’t come for at least a couple hours,” she said. “I have to go meet Chief Tomlinson behind the old dairy in Juniper in an hour, and tell him I’m quitting. Watch Pepper until I get back?”
Chapter Twenty
It was pitch black out. The night sky was dark and sullen, the moon hidden behind thick clouds. Chelsea had arrived fifteen minutes early, but the chief had arrived earlier still. His car was parked all the way at the back of the lot, by the woods.
As far as Chelsea could tell at a glance, his car was empty. She idled in her car, looking around the lot. Where was he?
Something felt wrong. A sensation of uneasiness rippled over her, sending icy chills shooting through her veins. She glided to a stop and parked by the road in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
A chilly breeze rushed through the air as she walked towards the police chief’s car. Then she paused.
She tipped her head back and sniffed. Her sense of smell was no better than a human’s, but she could still smell it, so the odor must be very strong—the breeze carried the coppery scent of blood.
“Chief?” she called out into the silence. “Are you all right?”
She stood still, listening hard.
Nothing but crickets chirping in the background.
She rushed around to the other side of the patrol car, and her blood froze at what she saw. Chief Tomlinson lay sprawled on the ground, his throat ripped out. His unseeing eyes were wide open.
Bloody shoe prints tracked away from the scene.
She knelt down next to him and placed her fingers on his neck in an attempt to find a pulse, but it was pointless and she knew it. His body was already cool to the touch. The blood around him was mostly congealed, and the blood on his throat was dry and crusted.
She stood, grabbed her phone from her pocket and tried to dial the Juniper Police Department. There was no cell phone signal.
Her stomach churned as she trotted back towards her car, debating what to do next. She was already on the outskirts of Juniper, so she should probably go there, but she wondered how the humans would react to her going into town to announce that their chief was dead. Would they blame her?
Off in the distance, she heard the sounds of approaching vehicles, then the sound of sirens. The dairy was on top of a hill, and she could see the road from town below. There were three police cars heading up towards the parking lot, lights flashing, sirens blaring. That was the entire Juniper police department headed her way.
Who had called the police? What had the police been told? Whoever had called them was most likely the killer, and this entire meeting had been a setup. Nobody else but the killer would have known so quickly that the police chief was dead, or sent them there at the perfect time, just when she was showing up.
She quickly shed her clothing, shifted and ran from the parking lot just as the police cars pulled up. She knew that leaving the scene would make her look as guilty as hell—and dear God, she had just walked through a pool of blood to get to him, making things look even worse. But she also remembered how the Juniper police had reacted when Mitch Rodgers had sicced them on her. Officer Porter in particular had looked as if he’d have been happier putting a bullet in her head than letting her go.
And now her car was parked in the same lot as the dead chief’s body—with all her stuff packed up as if she were fleeing town.
Panic and anger burned through her. Chief Tomlinson had been a good man, and his death had been brutal. Whoever had done this wouldn’t get away with it as long as she had breath in her body.
She raced through the woods, not knowing where she was heading. Just away. She needed to get away.
There were angry voices coming from the parking lot now, and flashlight beams stabbing into the forest. She heard barking. Oh, good, now police dogs had been thrown into the mix.
She ran faster, legs slashing through the underbrush, her sides heaving. There was a river nearby. If she could get to the river, she could wade in the water and lose the dogs, because they wouldn’t be able to scent her.
The voices were getting farther away, she was outrunning them…
She kept running. She couldn’t hear barking or yelling anymore. She’d given them the slip, at least for the moment.
But where would she go? Back to Silver Peak? That would bring the Council for Shifter Affairs down on the pack. But where else could she go?
Something knocked her flying, and she rolled over several times and scrambled to her feet, to come face to face…with an enormous gray wolf.
It was Roman.
And his muzzle was covered with blood.
* * * * *
Before she could run, he’d shifted back into human form and was crouched there, naked and panting. She shifted too.
Roman reached out his hand to her, to help her to her feet. She took it warily.
“I am not mated to that woman! She admitted that she faked the Mate Mark!” he said breathlessly.
She shook her head in astonishment. “Seriously? Chief Tomlinson’s throat has been ripped out, your face is covered with blood, there’s a posse with dogs running towards us, and that’s what you want to talk about?”
“It’s important,” he said. “Since we might get torn apart in the next few minutes. You need to know that the only woman I’d ever Mate-Mark is you.”
“I… Thank you? How did you know I’d be here?” she asked between deep gulps of breath.
“I went to your house, and when you weren’t there, I went to Erika’s house to find out where you were. She told me you were coming here to meet the police chief. I thought I’d get here early and surprise you.”
Chelsea glanced behind her, into the dark, dense woods, in the direction of the parking lot. She looked back at Roman. “I am definitely very surprised right now,” she said. “Why is your face covered with blood?”
“I was scenting around the chief’s body. I wanted to find out who killed him.”
Was he lying? Chelsea’s gut said no. She just couldn’t believe that Roman was a cold-blooded killer.
“Did you pick anything up?” she asked. “My sense of smell’s not that good.”
“Right,” Roman said. “The empath thing.”
“You know?” she said in surprise.
“Yeah, I read it somewhere a while ago. The genetic anomaly that causes an empath is tied in with the sense of smell.”
“I should have told you,” she said, feeling shame wash over her. “People usually freak out when they find out about it. They think that it means I’m a mind reader. I’m not. I’m someone who broadcasts my emotions to others. I’ve spent a lot of time learning how to deal with it, doing meditation and taking medicine to help control the effects.”
He nodded. “That’s okay. There’s something that I should have told you.”
She stiffened. “The Mate Mark?”
“Will you move past that?” he said indignantly. “I did not Mate-Mark her!”
“Kind of a hard thing to move past,” she said, brushing leaves and dirt off her legs. She still didn’t hear any dogs. They were in the clear for the moment.
“It’s about the warrant. It’s fro
m my mother’s home pack, and they did it because they want me to come back and visit. My cousin is getting Mate-Marked in a few months. They figured that if they filed a complaint, I’d have to go back to the county and deal with it.” He grimaced. “I’ve avoided my mother’s pack ever since she died. Brings up bad memories. My aunt looks exactly like her.”
She stared at him in shock. “It’s a trumped up warrant?”
“No, no, I really did steal my uncle’s pickup truck ten years ago and went on the run. I mailed him the money for it a few years back. They kept trying to get in touch with me, and I kept avoiding them.”
All those people trying to arrest him, and he could have solved the whole mess with a simple phone call to his mother’s pack. “You are really an ass. We’ll deal with that later. Who did you scent on Chief Tomlinson?”
“One of his police officers, a guy named Porter. His scent was all over Tomlinson. I recognized his scent because I’ve encountered him a few times, at the Hootenanny. He’s no fan of shifters, and he’s very close to Mitch Rodgers.”
Off in the distance, she heard the faint sound of barking again. The dogs were back on their trail.
“We need to go,” Roman said quickly. “I’m going to lead us back to shifter territory. If anything happens, I’ll distract them and lead them away from you.”
Before Chelsea could argue, he shifted back into wolf form again, enormous and gray. She quickly shifted too, dropping to all fours. They ran at full speed through the woods until they reached the river. Then they waded through the icy-cold water until they’d finally lost the baying hounds and the pursuing humans. Chelsea’s paws were numb and she was shivering when they climbed out of the water and began running again.
They ran through the woods for what felt like an eternity, and Chelsea’s lungs were burning when they finally stopped. They were next to what looked like a vine-covered hillside. Roman forced his way through the thick vines, and she realized it was the entrance to a cave. She followed Roman inside and they both shifted back into human form.
Chelsea crouched down in the dark, sucking in great gulps of air.
“Oh my God, my muscles are on fire. I really need to do more cardio. Where are we?”
“You’ll see. One sec.”
She heard rustling, and then a light clicked on. Roman was holding a flashlight lantern.
There were several plastic bins stored at the back of the cave. Roman opened one and began pulling out clothing, blankets, boxes of granola bars and cans of soup.
“We’ve got to lay low for now,” he said. “Tomorrow morning we’ll figure out our next move.”
“What is this place?” Chelsea asked as she pulled on a man’s oversized blue T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
“This is a pack hideout, in case anyone needs to suddenly lie low,” he told her.
She gave him a suspicious look. “Why would your pack suddenly need to… You know what, never mind.”
They ate cans of cold soup and granola bars, and washed their dinner down with a couple of bottles of beer from the case that he had tucked away in a cover of the cave.
“I’m glad to see you remembered the essentials,” she said, holding up her beer.
“Always.” He raised his beer and clinked it against hers. “What fun’s being on the run from the law without beer?”
“Right,” she said drily. “Because now that we have beer, it’s all a barrel of laughs.”
“I’m in a cave with the woman I love,” he said. “The woman I’m going to mate-mark.” Her breath caught in her throat.
“You lo…you lo…”
“You heard me. And if you want to get to know me a little better before you say it back, that’s fine, but I know how I feel, and there will never be another woman for me now that I’ve met you. You’re beautiful, and sexy, and kind, and funny…and did I mention sexy?”
“You did. You…” She blinked back hot tears, then forced a smile.
“Do you have anything you want to say back to me?” he asked, his voice gone low and husky.
“You already know you’re as sexy as all get-out.”
“True. But I really like hearing you say it.” He grinned at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s not just the fact that you’re sex on legs, although it certainly doesn’t hurt,” she said, looking into his caramel-colored eyes. “You’re actually a really good man.”
He snorted. “Let’s keep that a secret, shall we? Don’t want to ruin my reputation.”
Chelsea flashed him a wicked smile. “So now I have something to hold over your head. Anyway, where was I? You make me laugh. You make me feel beautiful and desired and safe. I’ve never felt that way before. You feel like…” She blinked again. “You feel like home. You are my home.”
He cleared his throat and looked away, and she realized that he actually had tears in his eyes.
“Damn cave dust,” he muttered, and pretended to sneeze. He took a long pull of beer.
Then he looked at her again. “The Mate-Marking. I want it to be tonight.”
“Tonight,” she echoed dumbly.
“Now.” His voice had gone low and husky. His eyes gleamed with hunger.
This was it. The man who ran from commitment was now running towards it, full speed.
“That other woman…she’s definitely dropping her claim? And you swear to me that you didn’t Mate-Mark her?”
“I most definitely, positively did not,” he said. He explained to her what Marcus had done, and how Holly had fled when confronted.
“Marcus did that for me?” she said, touched. “That’s amazing. Out of character, isn’t it?”
“Most of the time, Marcus is a flaming dickhead, but every once in a while he’ll do something that surprises me,” Roman said.
“After you Mate-Mark me…then what?” she asked. “Where would we live?”
“We’ll stay here,” Roman said. “We’ll apply to share pack land and we’ll start building houses. The other pack members want to settle down. They’ve been hinting at it for a while, I realize that now, I just wasn’t ready to hear it. We’ll still be a pack that’s a refuge for misfits and outcasts. I hope you can live with that.”
She laughed. “Live with it? I’m a misfit and an outcast myself.”
“Not an outcast anymore.” He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face up towards him, and plunged his mouth hungrily onto hers.
His kisses were slow, sweet and drugging as he stripped away her sweatpants and T-shirt, leaving her naked to his gaze. This time she felt no self-consciousness. He loved her. Even if he hadn’t said the words, the look in his eyes would have been enough. His gaze lingered adoringly on her full breasts, the soft curve of her belly, the patch of reddish curls between her plump thighs. His erection stood up stiff and proud, a single, pearly drop of precum at the tip a testament to how badly he wanted her. She felt so weak with desire she was surprised her legs were capable of holding her up. Her heart tripped erratically in her chest.
He’d said their pack—their pack—would be a haven for misfits and outcasts. It was all she’d ever wanted. A place to belong. And Roman wanted her not in spite of her oddities, but because they were part of who she was. Her heart swelled as he lifted her gently in his arms and laid her down on the smooth stone.
His lips were firm and commanding as he explored the contours of her body, suckling her nipple, then lapping at it with the flat of his tongue. He ran his fingers over her skin with whisper-soft tenderness, chuckling when she squirmed wantonly beneath his touch and parted her legs. He inhaled deeply, a growl rumbling in his broad, muscular chest when he scented her arousal.
Chelsea stroked his hair, half-swooning with pleasure as he worked his way down her body, settling between her thighs so he could lap at her core. Chelsea moaned and thrashed her head from side to side as he circled her clit with the point of his tongue then sucked hard as her she pulsated against his lips.
He drove h
is tongue between her slick folds, strumming her clit with his fingers until she arched against him, gasping and crying out as judders of sensation rocked through her body and she clenched and throbbed against his mouth.
He continued to lick her until her tremors subsided and she was left limp and satisfied, her eyes fluttering closed as she gave a final, heartfelt groan.
As she allowed her eyes to drift open again, Roman settled himself on top of her, a warm, welcome weight. He gazed down at her with a lovestruck intensity that made her heart skip a beat. His mouth and chin were shiny with her juices, and when he kissed her, she could taste herself on his lips. Their tongues tangled and dueled, and then Roman was positioning himself against her entrance, and she felt her pussy clenching greedily, eager for his intrusion.
She parted her legs further, welcoming him inside, and he pushed into her with a gentle strength that made her cry out softly, wrapping her arms and legs around him to hold him close.
He moved smoothly inside her, each thrust driving her higher, the sensations delicious and bewildering and like nothing she’d ever felt before. Though gentle, his possession was thorough and absolute. He filled her, completed her, driving her to breathless heights of excitement that had her digging her fingers into his taut, flexing buttocks and urging him inside again and again.
His breathing was labored, and he buried his face against her throat, groaning softly with each fresh intrusion into her tight, wet core.
Chelsea hooked her knee high on his hip, opening herself to him even further, urging him on with sweet, incomprehensible words of encouragement and desire.
And then, just as she was trembling on the edge of an orgasm that threatened to whip away her senses, she felt the sharp edge of his teeth against her throat.
It was unbearably intimate. The sense of vulnerability. The sheer trust of allowing this huge, dominant male to hold her pulse point between his teeth. She tilted her head to one side in an unmistakable message of surrender. I’m yours. Do whatever you want to me. Kiss me. Kill me. Mate me. Mark me. Take me.
Mate Marked: Shifters of Silver Peak Page 12
