by J. C RIMELL
“Let go, soldier,” she panted. “Now… please. I need it now.”
On her very command, he came, his release shooting through his body and into hers like a bolt of lighting. He roared with the pleasure of it, the untamed, unchained beauty of it all. And yet tried to fight the undeniable urge that suddenly hit him like a freight train demanding him to mark her.
Mine.
“No,” he snapped at the wolf.
“Huh?”
Ryker felt a strange trembling come over his body, felt his muscles bunch tighter under his skin.
Shit.
He was as gentle as he could be lowering her off of him. Removing the condom with haste, he threw it in the litter bin beside the bed and despite still being hard, tucked himself into his jeans.
Mine. His wolf persisted. Mine... It paced hungry and wild within.
“Ryker? Hey, are you okay?” Gabrielle asked, trying to coax him to look at her.
He tried hard to avoid her. His teeth hadn't fully retracted and his eyes were like two fucking laser beams in his head.
“Fuck… I gotta go.”
“Hang on a minute!” Gabrielle threw her hands on her hips, he caught her mortified expression from the corner of his eye. He didn't turn to face her, not while his eyes still burned with the wild heat he felt for her. “Is this your thing? Have your fun and then skulk off? She moved toward him, grabbed his arm. “Damn it, Ryker, at least look at me!”
He yanked his arm away and felt her recoil.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Way to go asshole.
“Get out then… go on!” she yelled, then proceeded to try to push him toward the door, hitting him with her tiny fists. His big body didn't budge under her assault. She was mad, still naked and didn't give a shit. The attraction she'd felt for him had just flown south along with any love for the opposite sex.
“Gabrielle.” He turned to her, the fire in his eyes had dimmed a little, even if it was still roaring like a savage beast in his soul. “I...” He wanted to explain, to say something.
How the hell did this go from good to bad in the space of milli-second? Oh yeah… my stupid leg and my horny, fucking wolf.
“Don't,” she spat, “this was just a quick fuck, I get it. No strings and all that. I just thought… Forget it. You should just go.”
Since there was nothing he could say or do, he just nodded like an idiot, opened the door and walked out.
“Ryker!”
A shard of hope splintered his soul despite knowing an end to whatever it was between them was probably for the best. Spinning on his heel, he turned to see her standing naked in the doorway. His animal lunged forward in his mind, the sight of her had it straining against the leash Ryker was trying damn hard to hold on to.
“Take your damn hat too!” She threw it in his face, along with his shirt and slammed the door.
He scooped it up off the floor and put it on. Doing up his fly and belt buckle with a string of harsh curses, he made his way out of the building and into the night with what little remained of his pride.
Gabrielle slipped into her robe and watched from the window as Ryker crossed the street. To say she was confused was putting it mildly. But then again, what the hell did she know about men? She'd had one semi-serious relationship in her life, during college. And it soon fizzled out as most young romances do once you get out into the big, wide, world.
She'd never been one for sleeping around, she had rules she'd always stuck to. They had kept her out of trouble, even if, at times a little lonely. She had to admit, her uncontrollable desire for Ryker had surprised her.
All night her brain had been buzzing. She'd made good her excuses and gotten the hell out of the club. She had nothing against the group, even Madeleine's icy charm had finally warmed to her. But seeing him again at the compound, dressed in a pair of sweats and a muscle shirt, her mind had flown solo. Ignored all her efforts telling herself she wasn't interested. That she didn't have time for relationships. Especially with a soldier who was probably just as duty-bound and committed to work as she was. That it was foolish to fantasize about him. To want him.
“Stupid! Stupid!” she chastised herself for going against her own rules. For surrendering to her body's carnal needs. She rolled her eyes, horrified at her brazenness.
“Floozy!”
Grabbing her drink she knocked it back in one go and tried to tell herself it was his loss. But deep down she felt a strange hollow in her chest. A regret, for sleeping with him? No—that was unashamedly the best sex she'd ever had and could ever want. No, it was the disappointment at how things had just ended between them. She hadn't fooled herself that he was a keeper. Ryker was a soldier and she was a cop with great career prospects ahead of her, but she had thought they could have some casual thing now and then. Sometimes she wanted, needed more than her damn vibrator. The feeling of being in his powerful arms had made her feel… alive, desired… even safe.
Feeling blue, she crawled into bed with a heavy sigh, flicked off the light and lay quietly in the darkness. The taste of him still lingered on the tip of her tongue, the smell of him still filled the room. The way he'd moved deep inside of her had Gabrielle's body still humming with the aftershock of their love making and she hungered for more. She wanted him, and she'd made that crystal clear. Why then, did he flee from her? What had made him act so strange? Her mind became a haze of questions and she needed answers.
The cop in her suddenly took control of her emotions, determination digging in its heels. Gabrielle would make it her priority to get to answers from the soldier who had gotten under her skin and made her want him with a desire so strong, it felt all-consuming.
Fifteen
Having followed Madoc's scent, Snow rounded the corner of the club with his pulse racing. His wolf was gearing up for a fight he wasn't even sure he'd win against the male he knew would be with her. He skidded to a halt once he saw the silhouette of the big male and Madoc in the alleyway together. She appeared unharmed and seemed to be reciprocating his advances.
Blowing out a breath laced with a curse, he looked away. Snow didn't exactly enjoy seeing the guy's filthy paws all over one of his own. Madoc was like a sister and having some stranger take advantage of her didn't sit right with him. But she was a big girl, and even they needed touch, affection, and sex from time to time.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he decided to give them a few minutes before intervening. Moving into the shadows, he waited in silence but was soon distracted when he smelled something familiar cutting through the breeze. His brows knit together in confusion as the smell of Semtex hit him.
He emerged from out of the darkness and walked at a fast clip toward Madoc, calling out her name to gain her attention.
It was too late.
An explosion sent him flying through the air, landing with a thud on the concrete while rubble and debris fell atop of him. His ears rang with a sharp, piercing noise that assaulted his senses. He shook his head, trying to shake free from the disorientation. Sitting up slowly, he cleared the dust from his face and stared up at Madoc who was shouting something at him.
She was checking him for any wounds. “I can't hear you,” he said, unable to hear his own voice. “Madoc, we need to get back to the others.”
She pulled him to a stand and he took a brief second to compose himself. He looked around, but Madoc was alone. “Where is he?” Snow asked. Unable to find the stranger through the dust still settling around them sparked a shit load of suspicion in his gut.
With a confused expression, she searched for the male who had set her pulse soaring only moments ago. She shook her head as though dismissing the matter. “Come on,” he saw her say, and together they climbed over the rubble and went to find their pack mates.
Nevada came rushing toward them both as they rounded the corner to the front of the building. “Thank God,” she said in clear relief. “Come on, there're so many casualties. We need to help.”
Madoc nodded and raced into the bu
rning building with Snow and her colleagues by her side, dodging injured people as they came running and screaming from every direction.
“Holy… Fuck,” Nevada breathed, once she'd made it to the other side of the thick cloud of smoke.
Bloodied bodies and dismembered limbs littered the dance floor. Lights flickered and flashed intermittently making the scene look like some kind of horror movie. Splinters of glass and debris carpeted the floor, crunching beneath their feet as they set to work and checked for survivors.
Snow's hearing regained dull vibrations and picked up the faint sounds of sirens approaching. He could see a person trapped beneath a concrete pillar that had been part of the bar. Removing the stanchion would probably cause internal bleeding, but leaving it to crush her would inevitably result in her dying anyway. Either way, the outcome was bleak. He lifted it with ease, like it weighed nothing more than one of his barbells in the gym. Lying it flat on the floor, he returned his attention to the woman. “Aw, shit,” he cursed as he knelt down beside her. The woman was the pretty bartender who had served him earlier.
“It's bad, isn't it?” she asked weakly before a coughing fit racked her broken body until she spat blood. He took a hold of her hand, stroking the palm with the soft pad of his thumb he nodded. “Please,” she said, “don't leave me in here to die, take me… out… side.”
He scooped her up in his powerful arms, trying not to cause her any further suffering.
“Wait,” Madoc said coming up beside him. She took the woman's vitals, then squeezed Snow's arm and whispered, “I'm sorry, the injuries are too severe.”
Exiting the building quickly, he shielded the woman from the fire the best he could as the flames burned the back of his shirt through to his skin. The smell of burnt flesh rose up into his nostrils. The emergency services were like a swarm of bees as they rushed passed him. A paramedic stopped to speak, concerned for the woman in Snow's embrace. He didn't have to be medically trained to know the woman wasn't going to last. Madoc had just confirmed that, and he wasn't about to put her through a shit load of life saving techniques that weren't going to help her in any way.
Snow shook his head. “Thanks, but I got this, she's already been seen by a medic.”
The paramedic ran a cursory glance over her, then gave a grim nod and gripped Snow's shoulder before dashing into the building.
Crossing the street, he spotted a bench and sat down, keeping the woman tucked into the warmth of his body. He looked down at her, brushed her hair from off her face. “What's your name sweetheart?” he whispered close to her ear.
She coughed hard and blood left her lips, the dark, crimson liquid marking his shirt. “Hayley… Parker,” she said, then inhaled a little, the sound of air rattling in her lungs. “My father, Tobias… you'll explain?”
“Of course, anything. You got it,” Snow replied, feeling helpless. Informing her parents would be the least he could do. “How do I find him?”
Her eyes were glossy and darkened by death creeping up behind them like a phantom. It took her a while before she could answer. “Camp Kalmia… Marine… Corps, he's the Major… General.”
Snow's brows creased, he knew that name. “Major General Parker?”
She gave a slight movement of her head. “And Vivienne… tell her...” she sucked in a sharp breath, “I love her.”
“Vivienne?”
“Sister...” The word left her on a haunting, final breath. Her eyes rolled back, her body went limp and the lovely young woman died in his arms.
“Goddamn it.”
Aden Black had always kept a low profile. A rogue, born of Russian descent, he had kept to himself and his nose clean, mixing only with other rogues from time to time. He had lived like any other human, no one ever suspecting he was a supernatural being. Working at the McCoy residence had given him a steady income. Albeit not much, but it came with a decent place to live, or it had until that damn shifter had turned up.
He stood swathed in shadow on the corner of the street and surveyed the scene of carnage. Lighting a cigarette, he inhaled deep, the tip glowed a bright amber and lit a fire in his eyes. Blowing out the smoke, it ghosted in the cool air while he watched firemen running around trying to gain control of the situation. It was the first of many attacks he and his followers had planned. His new army was young and keen, but best of all, they were vulnerable, impressionable and easy to manipulate. He was turning them into soldiers. Like him, they wanted their freedom. Their right to go wherever they pleased. The right to live alongside humans and he gave them every possibility of having it—if they were willing to follow him into battle.
Aden felt a presence at his back. “Well done, Nix,” he said without turning around to see the young rogue. “Go back and tell the others tonight was a success.”
“Yes, sir.”
He heard the faint sound of Nix's feet on the asphalt as he left.
Pulling out the Nokia cell phone Alex had given him, he punched in the saved number and waited for him to pick up.
“It's done,” Aden informed the listener. “Turn on the news.”
“I can see you have an aptitude for this kind of work.”
Aden dropped the butt of his cigarette to the ground, squashing it beneath the sole of his boot. “I want my money.”
“And you'll get it,” Alex replied with a dark twist to his tone. “I'll be in touch soon.”
The line went dead.
Having received a telepathic command from Fleet, Ryker pulled into the curb outside of the club and dismounted his Harley. His eyes scanned the damaged building, the smoke still billowing thick and gray from the roof which had caved in. He spotted Snow talking with Jack Henderson and walked over to join them, climbing over the rubble and debris.
His heart was a jackhammer in his chest, his eyes searching for Madeleine. “Where are the others?” he asked when he came level with them.
“They're inside,” Snow replied. “Nevada's looking for possible traces of the device with Eve. Madoc and Lakota are helping the paramedics with the injured.”
He breathed a sigh of relief as he caught a glimpse of Madeleine in the back of one of the ambulances.
“Hey, Ryker,” Jack quickly grabbed his attention. “I could really use you inside, help find any trace of that device.”
“Yeah, sure thing, Chief. Can I just have a second?” On Jack's nod, Ryker advanced over to the ambulance, Madeleine's back was turned as he approached. “Hey.”
She span round, her face and hands were splattered with blood. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?” He couldn't tell if any of it was her own.
Madeleine wiped a hand down her face, saw the blood on her hand. “Uh, yeah. Yes, I'm fine… It's not my blood,” she assured him. “I'm done here,” she said to the paramedic stood beside her.
Ryker reached out a hand to help her down and she accepted after a moment's hesitation. He shrugged out of his jacket. “Here, put this on,” he offered, placing it over her shoulders.
“Thanks.”
Ryker's senses prickled with unease. The scent of a male radiating off of her was most definitely not his own, nor one that he recognized. His top lip pulled back in a snarl. “Who was he?” he asked, unable to mask the chafe from his voice.
Her eyes narrowed. “Who?”
Ryker's grip tightened on her shoulders, his head dropping closer to her ear. “Whoever the hell had his hands all over you tonight.”
She wrenched herself free from him, her face a fierce scowl. “You've got some nerve!” she spat, “I can smell Agent Robinson all over you like a bad stench… care to share the details?” She waited for a response she knew wasn't coming, her gentle eyes suddenly going wolf. “No? Huh, I didn't think so.”
Jack joined them. “Is everything okay here?” he asked with a quizzical expression.
“Just fine,” Madeleine replied as she thrust Ryker's jacket into his chest and stormed off.
Jack watched her leave in bewilderment. “Should I ask?”
Ryker bit off a curse. “Hell, no!” Spinning on his heel he marched into the damaged building.
This was so not his night.
Back at the lair hours later when the dawn was approaching on the horizon, Ryker walked into the kitchen to find his alpha sitting at the breakfast bar staring into a mug of coffee.
“Good work out there tonight,” Fleet said, his eyes lifting to catch Ryker's. “Jack told me you found traces of the device that caused the explosion.”
He shrugged it off as no big deal and went to pour himself a coffee. “So many people were injured and died, the medics and firefighters did all the work.” He took a sip of his coffee and joined Fleet. “The device was a remote detonated IED, placed in the guys lavatory. Unfortunately, all the CCTV footage has been destroyed in the fire. No way of seeing anyone coming in, or out of the club.”
“Intel suggests we may have a splinter cell of rogues looking to cause trouble. If that's the case, they'll be someone influential leading the group.”
Ryker nodded. “Yeah, I'll get on to it with Snow. Check the databases for anyone who may fit the profile. He seems to think Madeleine...” he paused, grinding his molars for a second as he tried to swallow the bad taste in his mouth at the thought of some stranger with her, “… had met someone who was keen on getting out of the club and didn't stick around after it blew.”
“Okay, it's a start,” Fleet replied, sensing tension in the shifter. “Listen, Ryker, I need to speak to you about Madeleine.”
Ryker held his alpha's gaze, the air changed a little and by the look on his face, he knew it was serious. “What is it, chief?”
“She's becoming inquisitive about the night of her attack.” He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “She has memories that I obviously missed when I did the mind sweep. She deserves the truth, Ryker. The question remains whether it should come from me or you.”
Ah, shit. He cursed telepathically. “What good will come of it?” he asked, rocking back in his chair. “I mean, she's going to be pissed as hell. She may never talk to either of us again.”
