by Sable Grey
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
A small smile crept across her lips. “Promise?”
“If he comes near this house again, I’ll rip his throat out.”
Dean meant it. It was seldom anyone accepted him as a wolf as she had. Perhaps because of her own differences it made it easier for her to accept. John had accepted, but his acceptance had come with conditions and special assignments. Belinda’s came with no catches.
He pushed her hair from her face. “What else could you feel about him?”
“I think he’s a fire starter. He can make the explosions happen without being close enough to be harmed.”
“There was a bomb on John’s car. I heard it just a moment too late,” Dean argued.
“I don’t know. Maybe for the public?” She shook her head. “What little I felt about him was very frightening. He’s unstable.”
“Well, I could have told you that without any psychic abilities.”
She laughed. “No. I mean he doesn’t know how evil he is, and that makes him all the more dangerous.”
Dean heaved a heavy breath. “He wasn’t far enough away that I couldn’t pick up his scent. I’ll know when he returns.”
“That does make me feel better,” she admitted then winced. “I didn’t tell the agents about my visions and feelings.”
“It’s probably for the best.” Dean nodded. “The ignorant can judge harshly.” That was a fact he knew all too well himself, and one he also knew she was familiar with.
“It’ll be in the papers tomorrow. I’ll have to face the cameras.” She lifted a hand to her forehead. “The reporters always paint me as the victim. I hate it. John’s exploits were always forgiven because of the way he had about him, but I was always looked at as the poor little wife that must endure.”
“Isn’t that what you did?”
“Yes, but I am not completely a victim, either. I could have left him anytime.” She tilted her head back against the wall. “The truth is, he used to me to reflect a nice family unit for his political appearances, and I used him for his popularity to raise money for my foundation.”
“So you built an empire while he built a playboy reputation.” Dean watched her hesitate then nod. “I still think he was a fool to chase those other women when he had you here all the while.”
She smiled again. “You think you would have been different? Women threw themselves at him like they would a rock star.”
“I know I would have been different.” Dean rose to his feet and held out his hand. “You should come down. The agents are almost finished with their investigations, and it would make them feel better to see you moving around and able to function.”
She took his hand and stood with a quick nod. “You’ll stay by my side? I’ll feel stronger if you are there.”
“Right by your side,” he assured her, opening the door then following her into the corridor. “So close, you’ll think I’m your shadow.”
* * * *
Gabriel crept closer to the house. It was after midnight. Most of the agents were gone. Those who remained, scouting the premises, were easy enough to get around. He’d wanted to see her. But she’d not ventured outside of the house. They must have forced her to remain inside. Otherwise, she surely would have known and come to him.
You’ve got to dispose of the bodyguard. He has too much power over her.
Gabriel nodded. His mother was right. They couldn’t be together fully until the bodyguard was out of the way. He’d watched him earlier. There was something different about the man than others. It made Gabriel uneasy.
With him gone, you can get to her. She will accept you with open arms. Then we can be together again.
Tears stung his eyes. His mother would finally be able to join him again. Their torment ended. She and Belinda would become one, and they could start their life together. He wanted that more than he wanted air in his lungs. He’d felt empty when his mother’s body had died. His only comfort had been when he’d begun to hear her voice again. Now, she would have a body and be with him.
Careful….
A twig snapped, and Gabriel turned. No more than a few feet away an agent stepped through the trees. He’d not spotted Gabriel. But at any moment, the beam of the flashlight would reach him.
Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
His mother’s voice wrapped around scripture and echoed in his head. He knew what must be done.
Closing his eyes, he summoned the heat from within. Inside that heat, a ball of fury and hatred boiled. The fire would cleanse him and punish the wicked who stood in his way. It would make those who were not righteous fearful. His skin tingled as if kissed by burning sparks from a campfire. When he opened his eyes, his vision tinted red, and he directed his focus to the agent who neared.
Do it.
A moment later, the man’s scream pierced the night and echoed through the trees as he ran, his entire body ablaze. Shouts were heard from farther away. They would all come now. He smiled. They would come, and they would know. He turned and walked quickly away.
And I heard a man's voice between the banks of the Ulai, and it called, “Gabriel, make this man understand the vision.” Gabriel smiled, imagining his mother patting his head with pride at his work. He would make them all understand. And then she would be his.
* * * *
“What’s happened?”
Dean turned and found Belinda standing at the foot of the stairs, but before he could speak, another agent stepped through the front door. “He’s dead, Captain.”
“Dead? Who’s dead?” Belinda’s hand rose to cover her mouth.
“One of the agents.” Dean walked towards her. “They want to move you to a safer place.”
“No.” Belinda shook her head. “No, this is my home.”
“Ma’am, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.” Agent Murphy stepped forward. “It’s no longer safe for you here.”
Turning, she reached for the phone. She dialled a number, turned her back and spoke quietly. Then she held the phone out to the agent, a smug smile on her lips.
“The President of the United States would like to speak with you, Agent Murphy.”
Murphy’s face blanched as he took the receiver.
Dean would have laughed had the situation not been so serious. She hadn’t lied. She wasn’t a victim at all. He glanced at Murphy to find him glaring at Belinda.
“I understand, Mr. President.” He held the phone back out to her. “You win, Mrs. Boutwell. You stay here. But so does every man I have available to me. You won’t be able to wipe your ass without one of us taking note of it.”
Dean instantly stepped towards the man. “Your men will remain outside of this house and use the guard’s house to operate out of. My men will occupy the house. She’s just lost her husband, Agent Murphy, and now, it’s most likely that the same fucker who left her a widow is trying to help her join her husband. How about a little sensitivity when it comes to her wanting to keep something familiar in her life?”
Murphy looked as if he might say something then turned on his heels and marched away.
“Thank you,” Belinda whispered when the other man was gone.
“And you.” Dean faced her. “One of his men just burned to death. There was no need for you to pull strings. I could have talked to him.”
Belinda’s hand rose to her throat. “Burned to death?”
“Yes.” Dean nodded. “Though, I’m not certain this guy is really trying to kill you. If he could slip around this easily, undetected, and likes fire so much, why hasn’t he set fire to your house?” His brows bunched. “Something doesn’t add up here.”
“He’s coming for me. I told you he was unstable.”
“More like the wheel’s spinning but the
hamster’s dead,” Dean mumbled. “If he doesn’t want to kill you then we have a better chance at catching him quickly. If he does want to kill you, he may be trying to terrify you first.”
“He’s succeeding,” she admitted.
Dean frowned then turned to the guards who waited in the room. “I want a man at every entrance to this house on the bottom floor. Don’t give him room to even get a leg in the window.” They nodded and scattered.
“The man who died… He died because…”
Dean faced her again. “Because there’s a sick fuck out there with little else to do. Don’t you dare blame yourself.”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
“Everyone here is dedicated to catching him and keeping you safe. If Murphy has half the men I think he’s gonna bring in, an armoured tank couldn’t get through them. One of his men is dead, and he’s pissed off.”
Outside, lights of an ambulance bounced through the windows and reflected against the walls. “I should go out there. You go upstairs and sit tight. I’ll be but a couple of minutes.”
She nodded and turned to retreat as he’d told her to.
Stepping outside, Dean’s gaze swept the tree line, and his nose flared as he breathed in deeply. The scent of charred flesh drowned out any other hint of the fucker responsible. His gaze dropped to the blackened body laid out on the stretcher. Moving to Murphy’s side, Dean frowned.
“What was his name?”
“Michael Kellers,” Murphy answered.
“I’m sorry about your agent.” Dean crossed his arms.
“I want to get this asshole.”
“Me, too. We both have a score to settle. Now, it’s just a race to see who gets to him first.” Dean slanted a glance at Murphy. “I’d like to be kept on here and my men in the house. We don’t know how dangerous this fucker is gonna get before we can get our hands around his throat.”
Murphy looked at him. “You’re asking me not to send you away? Ask her. She’s the one running this show now.”
Dean grunted. “She’s just scared, Murphy. At least, she’s not weeping in the corner. Otherwise, your men would be in the house, and I would be retiring to the guard house.”
“We’re getting your men hooked up with new radios. We need as many trained men out here as possible. I’m not taking any chances.”
“I appreciate that.” Dean started to turn. “And I am real sorry about Kellers.” He returned inside when Murphy didn’t answer.
Chapter Five
Belinda felt like she was smothering. Fear crowded all around her, choking off her attempts to sleep. Her skin crawled, and every shadow in her room seemed to be readying to leap out at her. He was coming. She could feel it. When the door opened, she almost screamed, but the large silhouette that filled the doorway could only be that of Dean Rynes. His presence chased away some of the paranoia and fear that coiled in the room.
“Are you asleep?”
“If only I could.” She rose up on her elbows.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No. I’d rather you stay. I’m so scared I can barely breathe.”
He stepped into the room and closed the door, reaching to turn on the small lamp on the table near the mirror. He looked tired. She didn’t know if he’d even slept in the past twenty-four hours. Removing his jacket, he draped it across the chair.
“I think he’s still close,” she whispered and saw his body stiffen. “I can’t be certain though, if he really is, or if it’s just me being afraid. It’s just a feeling, not a vision or dream.”
“The clearing around the house is crawling with agents, and I’ve got a guard at every door.” He walked to the bed and sat down next to her.
“Can you smell anything?” She bit her lip as he shook his head.
“The scent of that agent…burned…is all I can smell. It’s lessened now but still overpowers my senses.” He reached forward and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m a pretty good guard without the wolf.”
She smiled and nodded. “You will stay in here with me tonight?”
“Yes.” He reached to remove his weapons and set them on the nightstand. “I don’t think he’d be foolish enough to do anything more tonight.”
That made her feel better. “I feel like the whole world is gone mad.”
“Just one fucker. The rest of us are pretty sane.” He leant back on the pillow next to her and tucked an arm beneath his head. She stared at his profile until he looked at her and arched a brow.
“Can you see better in the dark?”
The corner of his lips lifted. “As well as in the light. But I’d smell him long before I ever saw him.” He held out his free arm, and she hesitated then scooted closer so he could curl her against him. “I told you, I won’t let him get to you.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. She did feel safer now.
* * * *
Startling blue eyes was the only detail she could see of the silhouette surrounded by flames. They looked at her. While she couldn’t see the rest of his face, she knew he was smiling. Someone was beside him. A smaller figure. And a bit transparent. That figure danced in and out of the flames. The man turned and said something. No one answered, but he nodded. She squinted trying to make out the atmosphere outside of the flames. Only one thing showed itself. A picture…of her husband.
Belinda woke with a start. She sat up, and beside her, Dean’s hand touched her arm. “It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not okay.” Her whole body shook. “Nothing about him is okay.”
Dean pulled her back down beside him and rolled towards her, draping a thick arm over her. “He can’t get to you.”
Belinda began to calm down a little. He was right. It was a dream. While her dreams often revealed things to her, unless she saw something actually happen, it was most likely just her sensing Dean and being fearful.
Dean’s mouth pressed against her temple. She closed her eyes and smiled. He was an easy distraction from fear. His presence was immense, and the faint brush of his lips set her heart to thumping. He’d chased away her guilt the first night. Now, just his kiss soothed her frazzled nerves.
When his hand slid back to touch her stomach, she sighed. His lips lowered to her cheekbone and feathered a kiss there. Turning her face towards him, she waited. When he kissed her mouth, he slipped his tongue along her lips. She felt it in her toes.
“You make everything disappear and feel normal again.” She murmured against his mouth. She felt him still next to her.
“Normal?”
“Yes.” She opened her eyes to gaze into his. He smiled softly before kissing her again. This time his mouth was hungry, and his hot tongue delved between her lips. She shivered when his fingers closed on her gown and knotted. She loved his intensity.
His hand released and slid down and beneath the gown to caress her through her panties. A spear of heat forked out from the contact. She lifted her hips, encouraging him, and when he released her lips, she watched him move so he could lean down and lick at her through the satin material that separated them.
“I want to taste you.” His deep voice vibrated against her, and a moment later, his warm finger pushed aside her panties and his tongue connected. Pleasure twisted through her, and she hummed in response to his attention. When his finger probed and sank into her, she sucked in her breath.
She enjoyed the growl that sounded in his throat and vibrated against her sex. His finger thrust deeper, and he licked and sucked until she cried out with pleasure. But he gave her no time to ride it out, pulling her to her feet so he could jerk the gown over her head.
She stepped out of her panties as he quickly shed his clothes then surprised her by grabbing her and spinning her around. A hand on her back, he bent her forward so her hands rested on the bed. His cock nudged her sex from behind then pushed. He filled her completely, slipping one hand beneath her to pull her back against him.
He drew back then thrust into her. She cried out as p
leasure, edged with sweet pain, caused her breath to catch. He felt good.
“I’ve wanted this from the first time I laid eyes on you,” he murmured just behind her ear as he bent over her and rocked into her. “I hated John because he couldn’t appreciate what he had, hated him because I wanted you for myself.”
His words struck her hard. She’d been attracted to him, too—always. Over the years, she’d secretly looked forward to the few instances when he would accompany John to the house. When Dean would look at her, he’d seemed to look into her rather down at her like others. Like John.
“I want to see you.”
He pulled out and flipped her over, leaning forward so his face was but an inch above hers. “I don’t know what this is, but I don’t want to let go of it. I feel something for you that I don’t feel with other women. I always have.”
She realised what he meant when he pushed inside of her again. “I’m your mate.”
He stilled, staring down at her. “What?”
“Many wolves have only one mate. I’m your mate.”
She saw the change. It was only slight, like something inside of him locked into place. His eyes changed to those of the wolf, bright and yellow. He leant forward, hands slipping beneath her to cup her shoulders.
“Mine.” He rocked forward.
“Yes,” she whispered, realising they’d both been lost until that moment. She was his. It felt right. A deep guttural growl crawled up from his chest as he began pumping into her. Her body reacted with equal hunger, and when he parted his lips, she saw that his canines had grown and extended down over his bottom teeth. He was claiming her. That realisation struck her hard and filled her with belonging. She lifted her hips to meet each thrust, accepting him and his secret as he had accepted hers, without question or judgement.
Her climax came quickly, tossing her into a shaking world of emotional and physical pleasure. When she came down from that peak of ecstasy, Dean quickened the rhythm of his thrusts. His hands pulled from beneath her to grasp her wrists and pin them above her, riding her frantically, those yellow eyes never leaving her face. When he came, he threw back his head and bared his teeth, the cords of his neck tightening. She was his mate. She was his.
