“Hands behind your back!” I barked. He complied, but he didn’t look happy about it.
“Zip ties,” I told Andrew. I glanced at Vicks’ arms. “Make that three of them.”
Vicks shook his head and chuckled. “You paranoid, Claire-Bear?”
Once his wrists were secured, I reached up and grabbed his hat. I searched it and pulled out a pocket knife and a small lock picking kit. “You tell me. Do we need to perform a cavity search?”
That wiped the smirk off his face.
I addressed the mob of enthralled men. “Thank you, gentlemen. Please escort this asshole to the dungeon.”
Andrew and Giles grabbed an arm each and began to frog march our resident cowboy out of the gym. A few minutes later, we found ourselves single-file down a narrow staircase.
Vicks took the bottleneck as an opportunity to send a row of guys tumbling down the stairs with a vicious kick to Giles’ spine, then threw himself into Andrew and head-butted him.
“Really!?” I yelled. He had to know he was outnumbered thirty to one.
Andrew retaliated by punching Vicks in the mouth.
“Stop!” I screamed. Surprisingly they all listened, even Vicks who wasn’t enthralled.
Vicks spat out some blood and grinned viciously. “Had to get at least one shot in. Matter of pride.”
“Just keep moving,” I snapped, exasperated.
Vicks shrugged, then continued down the stairs without an escort. He somehow managed to make it look like this was all his idea. Even with his hands still bound behind his back.
I shook my head. Men.
Six of the guys were bruised and already waiting by the time the rest of us filed into the dungeon.
The tangle-haired vampire was still losing his shit, but Beckett calmly appraised the situation. His lips quirked when he saw my unexpected prisoner. It was a death sentence to accost a U.S. Hunter, after all. I’m sure he found all this highly amusing.
“Throw him in a box. And give him a pack of smokes while you’re at it.” I smiled viscously at Vicks. “You might be down here a while.”
The men acted immediately. I’d never get used to ordering minions around. I felt like a super villain. Well, a naked one. I’d almost forgotten about that.
“Shirt.” I held out my hand. The men fought over who could rip theirs off the fastest. I donned a long one that fell to my thighs — good enough.
I shed the blonde girl skin and reverted back to the ‘Fierce Claire’ look, dramatic makeup included.
“What about that mate of yours?” Vicks spat. “You follow through with this and that contract protecting him goes up in smoke.”
I stared Vicks down, walked over toward his glass cage, and slammed the cell door shut. “Lucas can burn for all I care.” Before I could lose my nerve, I turned to Beckett. “You still want to broker that deal?”
***
The flight was nineteen hours, and I felt each and every minute of it. I still couldn’t believe the massive gamble I’d taken by releasing Beckett. He could’ve slaughtered the lot of us. Instead, he winked at me, said ‘Thanks, love,’ then whooshed up the stairs in a blink of an eye. Apparently he had a daylight sigil, because he was long gone by the time I went upstairs.
Though he did steal a Ferarri.
“We will be landing soon.”
I jerked out of my thoughts and glanced up at the pilot who stared at me like rainbows and cloud-parting sunshine sprang out of my ass. Angelic singing included.
I nodded, “OK, thank you.”
The middle-aged pilot kept staring, awkwardly.
“Shouldn’t you be flying the plane?” I asked.
He blinked. “Yes, of course.”
I shook my head as he turned on his heel and headed back to the cockpit.
Was it fucked up to turn people into puppets? Yes.
Did my morals matter when Camilla’s life was on the line? Fuck no.
This whole manipulating people thing would never cease to feel surreal. But honestly, it was a hell of a lot better than dealing with someone I had no control over. With the way men tended to stare at me, feeling safe was a rare commodity, but when I pulled the puppet strings, I could ensure my safety. As long as I didn’t tug too hard.
Now that I didn’t fear attention, I no longer needed to play down my looks. And yet, I reverted back to my wallflower, Plain Jane appeal. I even picked up some hipster glasses that weren’t prescription so I could look like the old me. Partly because I wanted Lucas to underestimate me, but also because a small part of me was worried what he’d think. He seemed to like Nerdy Claire.
Stupid! I mentally berated myself.
I wasn’t going to Denver to get him back. This was about saving Camilla. To hell with Lucas Masters and what he might think of me! To spite him, I transformed into Fierce Claire and stuffed the glasses in my bag. Though, without a leather ensemble, it fell a little short. Screw it.
I wasn’t a bunny anymore. He’d messed with the wrong person’s best friend.
I was still furious when the plane landed thirty minutes later.
“We may have a problem.”
I zipped up my backpack and looked at the pilot. “What’s up?”
He pointed out the window. “We’ve got company.”
Half a dozen black SUVs with blinking lights were headed toward us.
“Shit!” I had no doubt in my mind that they were on orders to shoot to kill.
Supes didn’t get court dates, they got silver bullets.
I threw my backpack on, rushed to the plane exit, and kicked the thing open using blue sauce enhanced legs. The hatch flew about fifty yards to crash land into the front wheel of the lead car. The SUV’s brakes screeched and the car behind it rear-ended it.
It was a total accident, but I’d take it. Two down, four to go.
I jumped out of the hole and landed softly on my empowered legs. While energy coursed through them I started sprinting, leaping twenty feet at a time. The wheels of the pursuing vehicles chewed the tarmac behind me, yet even though I could hear the loud revved engines, they weren’t gaining on me, nor could they keep up with my rapid turns and changes of direction.
Holy shit! I was seriously outrunning cars? I dodged and weaved between planes.
I’d spotted a possible exit, but I’d already flown by it with a massive jump. Suddenly, I made a split-second decision and doubled back. I jumped over the cars. The world slowed as I drifted overhead. I could see a government agent staring up at me through the sunroof, my aerial form reflected in his irises.
I saw the blaze of his gun before I heard it.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Air whizzed by me. I almost got shot in the head!
I landed hard and barely recovered before I jammed more ardor into my legs and leapt up over a plane that was about to board. My eyes widened when I realized I was going to crash into one of those luggage cart vehicles. I forced energy all around me like a force field and strengthened my skin diamond-hard. I smashed into the cart sending the tail end of the luggage train rolling.
Shockingly, I barely felt it.
I sprang to my feet and jumped up into one of those retractable hallways one uses to board the plane. I managed to squeeze inside before the folding wall attached to the plane.
I caught my breath as I jogged across the gangplank and kicked the door down in one smooth motion. Travelers screamed at my explosive entry, but I ignored them as I headed out of the terminal and began to blend with humanity. Every step I took, I transformed a feature. Sleek black hair turned into bushy brown hair. My butt got smaller and my nose got bigger. Without thinking, I turned back into Old Claire.
I was too amped up to try to disguise myself further. With my adrenaline pumping and no mirror on hand, I’d probably end up looking like Quasimodo if I tried an unfamiliar disguise.
Luckily, nobody from the government would dare shoot into a crowd of innocent people. Not to mention I could enthrall any given bystander to stall my pursue
rs. Even though my pulse hammered, I was fairly confident that hiding in plain sight was my best option. They’d just shoot me down if I tried to leg it to the freeway. Even if I could harden my skin like an exoskeleton, now was not the time to discover if I was impervious to bullets.
Ten minutes later, I had methodically traversed the airport to the baggage claim area — not too fast lest I draw unwanted attention to myself. Though my fear ratcheted up every time a frantic security guard ran by, I was half convinced I was actually going to get out unscathed.
That is, until I saw a U.S. Hunter wearing full tactical gear standing between me and freedom.
His eyes were on a swivel and he had a seriously nasty looking tagger gun in his hands. It was unmistakable with its wide barrel. Vicks told me about them; their sole purpose was to shoot out projectiles that would incapacitate and immobilize a Supe, often fastening its victim to a wall for easy pickings. Shit.
I froze like an idiotic deer in the headlights as I focused on the wide barrel of the gun. If your average feral couldn’t beat a tagger, I sure as hell couldn’t. The Hunter was going to take one look at my fear-stricken face and see right through me, I just knew it. Hell, he’d probably been briefed on what the Old Claire looked like.
Just as he was about to spot me, someone put their arm over my shoulder and steered me toward a side exit — effectively blocking me from view.
Suddenly the bond that had been closed flared.
I gasped.
“Lucas.”
Our bond slammed shut. Lucas spared me one searing glance before turning his attention toward more pressing issues.
Like getting us out alive and undetected.
He nodded to a young man with reddish brown hair. The guy shocked the hell out of me when he “accidentally” bumped the armed and dangerous Hunter. However, it was enough of a distraction for Lucas and I to slip outside.
I was so stunned at how effortlessly Lucas had solved the problem that I’d forgotten to be mad. That is until another black SUV pulled up in front of us. I tensed and tried to bolt before Lucas squeezed my upper arm hard enough to get his message across: you’re not going anywhere.
“What are you doing?” I hissed and tried to break away without causing a scene. His fingers felt like iron — the grip wouldn’t bruise, but it was implacable.
“Relax,” he muttered under his breath. He pulled me close into a lover’s embrace — it may have looked romantic to the average observer, but I knew better. It was his way of controlling me. Forcing me to stay still. Even so, my inner succubus purred at his proximity. His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “They’re with me.”
Before I had time to question him, he opened the back door and guided me in before sliding next to me. I summoned my energy, preparing to fight against an ambush, but there were no U.S. Hunters lying in wait. In fact, the vehicle was empty except for the driver.
What the hell?
When this make and model of car pulled up, I had sworn Lucas betrayed me.
Apparently, the good and bad guys drove the same cars. The sad part was I didn’t know who was who anymore. Lucas sure wasn’t the person I thought he was.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Lucas snapped as the car pulled away from the curb. He reached across and roughly fastened my seatbelt. I was tempted to rip it in half, but I wanted to keep the element of surprise. Obviously, he still thought of me as a weakling.
“What was I thinking?” I snapped back, viciously releasing the seatbelt the old-fashioned way. “What were you thinking kidnapping my best friend!”
Lucas’ frown deepened at my accusation. Golden eyes glared back at me. His wolf was close to the surface.
I resisted the urge to shiver. I remembered in exquisite detail just how large and frightening the tar-colored beast could be. Normally I’d be cowed, but he’d threatened Camilla. That, I couldn’t allow.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“Safe.” His full lips hardened. “For now. I suggest you don’t attempt to leave me again, or her luck might run out.”
Luck!? I’d seen what his so-called luck looked like.
I wanted to slap the fucker across his beautiful face. What really pissed me off most was that his stupid, perfect visage made him look like an innocent angel. But I knew differently. He was the goddamned devil. His good looks hid the monstrous side of him — and I wasn’t talking about the one that sprouts fur.
“You caused quite the scene back there,” he said before he clenched his jaw, stared out the window, and refused to look at me. I noticed his fists balled into his lap as we cruised past cars.
“We’ll talk later.” His voice was strained, and I wanted to yell at him some more, but his fingernails had turned to talons. He held himself completely rigid, riddled with unspent tension. I had a feeling that Lucas Masters was close to sprouting fur — to the point where he couldn’t risk looking at me without wolfing out in the middle of our trek down the freeway. Shifting inside a car? Horrible idea.
Instead, I seethed in silence with the picture of Camilla in the hospital haunting my thoughts. My best friend was bruised and broken because of him.
And you know what? Fuck it.
I threw a punch at his pretty face.
***
One moment, I was certain my sucker punch would connect with his perfectly sculpted cheekbone, the next, the fucker caught my fist without even looking. Next thing I knew, I found myself in a compromising straddle position — hoisted onto his lap with my hands trapped behind my back.
I twisted to no effect. Lucas growled and buried his nose in my neck, and inhaled my scent.
“Let me go!” I yelled. His grip tightened, and pressed my breasts tighter against his chest. Our groins pressed dangerously close to each other. The succubus side of me was very pleased with this development, but the pissed off avenger of best friends side of me? Not so much.
“That’s it!” I growled and sent a spiral of blue sauce to my limbs to strengthen them.
Thrumming with energy and power I fought against his embrace. Let’s see how he likes it when I’m strong enough to fight back!
My vicious smile slipped off my face.
He didn’t even budge. Seriously? I’d thrown all my enhanced strength at him, and he didn’t even look strained!
My God, even after all this training I was still weak as shit compared to him. So much for being a badass succubus.
I grunted and redoubled my struggle, determined to free myself. Lucas growled against my neck, and it sent shivers down my spine. To rebel against the sensation, I threw even more of my weight around. In retribution, Lucas’ teeth pressed against his mark on my neck.
I froze, and shuddered in pleasure.
He rumbled in appreciation at my body’s traitorous reaction. If anything, his satisfaction broke me out of my trance.
This smug fucker wasn’t going to use the mate bond against me. I struggled again with my arms bound and tried to knock him in the face with my forehead. But he was already latched onto me, buried in the crook of my neck where I couldn’t effectively get to him.
Then I saw his neck. Wide open. I could bite him and give him a taste of his own medicine, but if anything, that’d probably turn him on more. From what I’d gathered in our previous engagements, wolves had a thing for it. I remembered our rule: No Biting. But this asshole clearly didn’t have a problem with nibbling on me.
“Quit moving,” he groaned. “I’m having enough trouble controlling my wolf without you writhing on my dick, baby.”
I froze, feeling his hard arousal for the first time.
“Don’t even think about it,” I gritted.
He chuckled, “Believe me, I’m pissed at you too, but you’re not making it easy for me.” He licked my scar, sending jolts of pleasure shooting directly to my groin.
I caught myself mid-gasp and snapped my teeth shut. Instinctively, I tried to close my legs, but it only gripped him tighter to me.
“You’re hu
ngry,” he whispered into my neck. His words made my succubus purr, but I sure as hell wouldn’t let him know that.
“No, I’m not,” I lied. I’d gone a long time without feeding, and I could do it again. I wasn’t about to succumb to the enemy that quickly.
He inhaled my scent again and groaned.
God, I missed you. Your scent. Your feel. How could you leave me?
I stiffened, and so did he. I don’t think either one of us was prepared for that taste of telepathy. This mate-bond thing was no joke.
“Yeah, well, get used to missing me.” After a brief pause, I tested the bond waters, You’re an asshole.
He growled and gripped me tighter. “And you’re not going anywhere.” He ground himself into my clit for emphasis. I lifted my head and panted, trying to formulate a plan to extract myself before I got caught up. Preferably a plan that didn’t rely on using my powers and repeating the night we met.
“And don’t call me names, Claire.” Faster than a snake strike, he sank his teeth into my mark. Pleasure exploded through me, and sent fireworks along my nervous system. I could barely compute that he just made me orgasm.
With his teeth. On my neck.
Oh God, I was fucked.
His next words confirmed it: “This isn’t a negotiation, Claire. I am your Alpha, your mate, and the only man capable of feeding you. You will learn to respect me.”
You will learn to respect me. His words bounced around in my skull. Was it a threat? Arrogance? He hadn’t sounded sinister, rather he had been firm and unflinching. It boggled my mind that a sixteen-year-old could master that slightly condescending tone.
“Seventeen.”
I jerked my head up. “What?”
“Seventeen,” he repeated. “People have birthdays. I’m seventeen now and a confident tone comes with being the King of Wolves.”
My eyebrows raised as my cheeks heated. I’d mentally called him that over a half an hour ago. “You’ve been eavesdropping on my thoughts!” It was an accusation, not a question.
The Hunter: A Sinful Supes Novel (Red Crescent Book 3) Page 9
