Mated (Dark Ties Book 2)

by A. Vers

  And I know because I put it there.

  “Tanner Faust,” Callus all but croons, drawing me away from the past I walked away from. “It’s been what? Four years?”

  “Seven,” I say.

  He smiles and reclines back in his chair. His dark hair is a rich chestnut, longer than mine and fuller. Eyes of a feline hazel watch every move I make. Calculating everything. The alpha is thicker than I remember, too, not as lean as he once was. But the blanket of power pouring from him has not changed. “I profess when Diana said the Tan-Man was here … I couldn’t stop my flutter of excitement. The great Tanner Faust. The ghost of Silver Rock returned at last.”

  My lips want to peel back on a snarl at his condescending, but I rein my other side in. “It’s pack law for an outsider to seek audience with the local alpha. So here I am. Seeking your time.”

  “And what could you need me for?”

  “Tonight, a human woman was attacked on your land by a man-eater in jaguar form.”

  “A man-eater? At Silver Rock?” Nothing in his expression, scent, or heart rhythm changes. But I don’t trust a damn word he says.

  “The woman was bitten, and she already shows signs of changing.”

  He peers around me. “And this woman … Where is she now?”

  “At Fallen Ridge Memorial.” My teeth grind the words out.

  His head bobs. “Well, then, I’m afraid until she is able to substantiate these outlandish claims, we are done here.”

  I gape. “Callus …”

  His eyes flash as the first glimmer of gold sparks through their depths. “Alpha Reed, to you, Mr. Faust,” he says, rising to his feet. “Or have you forgotten who leads Silver Rock?”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” I retort, seething. “But you have a problem on your land. You can spare one fucking man to investigate.”

  “Unfortunately, no I can’t.”

  “No Beta? Nothing?” I ask, incredulous. “What about Ebony or the Twins. Surely they could—”

  “There is no one,” he snaps. Some of the anger fades on a smirk so dripping in disdain, I want to wipe it from my fucking skin.

  “Fine,” I say. “If I have to do this by shifter law or by coven sanction, I will handle it if you won’t.”

  The desk groans under his hands as he leans across it. “Are you threatening me, Tanner?” His voice holds a trace of a growl.

  My fists ache to slug him in the jaw. To break that square width into a million impossible to put back together pieces.

  Even after all these fucking years, the asshole can’t tame his arrogance.

  An idea dawns with startling fucking clarity.

  But it’s stupid.

  Insane.

  I watch Callus from the few feet left between us. But it might as well be miles. I don’t want the blood of a bunch of innocents on my hands. And with a potential man-eater roaming Silver Rock, it’s sickeningly possible that that is exactly what is fixing to happen.

  Callus is too stubborn to listen. To accept my word for things and help me catch the one responsible.

  But the pack might.

  “Alpha Reed, I seek admittance for myself and two others to join the full moon run with the Silver Rock pack.”

  His eyes bug out of his skull before he quickly wipes his expression clean. The sharp wit of his beast rests very near the surface of his gaze. He growls, low and long. But he can’t deny me.

  By morning, the receptionist will be raving about Caine’s Asmodean gifts and the fact Tan-Man was on pack land. If I don’t show up for the run, questions will be asked, shit will be stirred. All in all—chaos.

  And as the alpha during an attack on a human, the more solid footing he has with the pack … the better. “Fine,” he snarls. “You have guest status at Silver Rock.”

  I smile and walk to the door. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Alpha. As always.”

  That low rumbles continues until I shut the panel in his face.

  I stand poised in the hall, hands in tight fists as I force back the beast inside me. It’s going to have to get used to being as far down as I can get it. This is not the pack to fight with. Not now.

  Shoving a hand through my hair, I walk back to the reception area.

  Caine has the receptionist pinned to the wall when I step out of the corridor. Her dark waves are a mess, and her shorts are completely gone, leaving her naked lower half tight against his body. But he is fully dressed, not a hair out of place.

  He looks up, blood-red eyes rolling with hellfire as the woman climaxes against him. Her screams bring loud bangs from the back.

  I swear. “Shit.”

  He sets her on her feet and sucks in a big breath of air.

  Something bright red rolls out from under her skin and into his mouth as I watch. Like a cloud of lust, he inhales as much as he can and trembles. “Fuck yes,” he groans.

  I lunge and grab his arm as the first pounding footsteps sound down the hall. “Run now, bask later,” I say and sprint for the exit.

  He laughs and barrels out on my heels. We skid in the gravel as we near the truck, and he dives inside as I go for the driver’s side door. Slamming the massive beast of metal into drive, I wrench the wheel and gun it, spraying bits of stone behind us.

  I don’t slow until I hit the main road.

  His dark head watches out the back window, bouncing a little in his seat. “Oh please tell me we get to go back.”

  I can’t stop the chuckle that bursts free. Seems I found one guest to take on the run. And the Asmodean may serve as a needed distraction.

  “Hell yeah, we’re going back,” I say. He peers at me like a kid at Christmas, and I grin. “But if you thought that was good, just wait until the fucking Full Moon.”

  Chapter 8

  Nisha

  Pulling up outside my house, a familiar dark blond head leans back against an equally familiar truck.

  Chuck watches me park, his mouth pressed into a firm line. As soon as I open the door, his voice fills the air. “You fucking requested a shift change?” he calls across the quiet street as he heads my way.

  Grimacing, I walk right past him, head down as I fumble with my keys. “I gave you every opportunity, Chuck. You wouldn’t do it. And since I really can’t stand being around you right now, it was the only thing to do.”

  “It was a coward’s move,” he snaps. “Now I got to explain to the guys why you’re on a different shift.”

  “Tell them the truth. Tell them you were fucking around on me. They’ll understand. They know how you are.”

  His hand closes over my arm, pulling me to a stop in the middle of the drought-riddled grass.

  I wrench away, grab him by the throat, and slam him into the siding on my house. He stares at me, eyes wide. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I yell. The anger inside me ratchets higher, leaving my stomach aching as something raw builds inside me. “You don’t get to do that anymore. Not now. Not ever.”

  A light turns on next door, flooding the yard with a soft golden glow. We both glance over as movement registers behind the closed curtain. I blink and step back.

  Oh god. What the hell is wrong with me?

  Chuck glares at me as he straightens his clothes. “We aren’t done talking about this, Nisha.”

  I scoff and walk far around him. “Bye, Felicia.”

  “Who the hell is Felicia?” he demands.

  I wave over my head as the neighbor’s door opens. “And that is exactly the point, Chuck.”

  I stumble into the house. And then immediately wish I hadn’t.

  The scent of stale sex and Chuck hangs in the air. Saliva pools in my mouth and I run headlong for the bathroom.

  Leaning over the toilet, I spit and shake until everything in my stomach is long gone. Acid grits in my teeth, but the smell is worse. I flush, wash my hands twice, and even spray the air with a disinfectant spray. But all the chemicals burn in my now too sensitive nose.

  I whimper and dive out of the dark room,
and it’s only then I realize I did everything without turning on a single fucking light.

  There is nothing in me that wants to go to the bedroom, to verify all of Chuck’s stuff is gone. But my shift doesn’t start until eight a.m. Tomorrow. So no station.

  For a split second I consider a diner, and then grimace at the concept of all the grease, people, and noise.

  Slipping my hand into my pocket for my keys, my fingers brush the edge of a slip of paper. I pull it out.

  A single phone number glares back. The number Lilah gave me.

  For a moment, I hesitate.

  Would any of them even still be up this late?

  I walk to the handheld in the kitchen and dial the number before I can change my mind.

  The line clicks and a low rumble pours into my ear. “It’s fucking six a.m. This better be good.”

  My nipples peak as Tanner’s sexy rumble vibrates through me. “Tanner?” I ask. Just because I like punishing myself.

  He falls silent. “Nisha?”

  My eyes flutter as he croaks my name.

  Oh wow.

  “Yeah,” I say, breathy. “Your number was in my jeans.” Fuck. “I mean—Lilah gave me this number at the hospital. Said if I needed something …”

  The silence stretches and for a minute I wonder if he hung up.

  “You okay?” The question is simple and almost soft, but it makes my eyes burn.

  I press my palm to my face.

  Damn it.

  Even worse than the heat in my body is these damn mood swings.

  “Well … not really.” I sniff. “Look, I didn’t mean to call so early—late … whatever. But is everything supposed to be so … much?”

  He sighs. “Where are you?”

  I look around and start to pace. “My apartment.”

  There is a soft squeak, like a box spring groaning. I force the image of that man in any bed far from my mind. “Do you want me to come to you, or would you rather come out here?”

  I hold the phone away from my ear, sure I must be hearing shit. The man doesn’t know me, so why help me?

  But it’s not like I have a hell of a lot of options.

  Chuck’s scent grows stronger in my nose. I glance over to find one of his shirts peeking out of the laundry basket in the wash room. My nose crinkles in distaste.

  Yeah—No.

  I press the phone back into place. “Where exactly is here?”

  ***

  The old campground off the interstate is overgrown, damn near abandoned. But Tanner leans back against one porch rail as I pull my old Jeep into the horseshoe drive. The man is all sleek muscle in what looks like the same clothes from the hospital. Albeit the more rumpled version. But he is no less fucking gorgeous in day old clothes than he was when I first opened my eyes. One long arm points to the end of the small buildings. I pull down and park.

  He pads across the dirt lot on long bare feet. I climb from my car, leaving my overnight bag in the backseat. He appraises me as he nears.

  “The cabin on the end is yours,” he says in lieu of greeting. He points behind him to the other log buildings. “You’re far enough from the newlyweds to not have to listen to them, and far enough from Caine you won’t have to kill him.”

  I shift. “Thanks.” I mean it as not having to listen to the new couple have sex, but it winds up meaning so much more.

  He nods like he really understands. “First few weeks are the hardest. The bitten are ruled by the hungers, even more than the bred shifters. So it’s going to be a learning curve.”

  “Hungers?” I ask.

  “Skin hunger, regular hunger, some mild bloodlust, and sex. Sex is a big one.” His eyes are a stormy grey in the early dawn light. “Fridge is packed already, so try to eat as much protein rich food as you can. It helps stave off most of the hungers.”

  I glance past him to the only illuminated front porch of the farthest cabin from the road. “How did you know I was coming?”

  He snorts. “Didn’t. Lilah made Ruin stop on the way back.”

  My face flames. “Oh.”

  Was I that easy to read?

  He dips his head and turns away. “Well, I’m going back to bed.” His hand gestures down his side as he walks. “This doesn’t happen on less than four hours of beauty sleep.”

  I watch his tight ass in those jeans as he climbs up onto the narrow porch of the cabin nearest mine. And then immediately turn away as he glances over his shoulder, like he can feel my gaze.

  My face burns as I reach into the Jeep and pull my bag free. I climb onto the low stoop and open the door to the cabin.

  A single lamp rests next to a low queen size bed with a thin quilt and a handful of pillows. I drop my bag beside the door and close it behind me.

  The window unit has already been turned on, and the room should be chilly after the heat, but the fire in my veins seems never ending. A small fridge sits in the half kitchen. Indeed the inside is filled to the brim with fruits, lunch meats, and bottled water. I open the cabinet above to find wheat bread, peanut butter, beef jerky, and trail mix. Healthy, high protein and high fat foods.

  Things to help keep away the hungers.

  There is only a faint trace of evergreens in the air. No sex, no blood. No stale odors or mildew.

  No old boyfriends.

  And that alone was worth the damn drive.

  The bathroom is narrow, with an antique model green tub and sliding shower door, but everything is clean and almost minty scented. Well taken care of.

  I strip out of my makeshift clothes and grab a cold shower.

  I can’t use my soap. Even opening the bottle makes me sneeze. I look around. A few bars with natural looking labels rest along the tub edge. Opening the plastic wrapping, I give a few exploratory sniffs.

  Soft herbs and something lemony floats out. But it’s mild. Gentle on my nose. I nod in approval and cover myself in it. Once the water runs clean and my skin only smells like me and a bottle of lemon juice, do I climb from the spray.

  Wrapped in a towel, I snare a bag of regular beef jerky, an apple, and a bottle of water before climbing onto the bed in a clean bralette and panties.

  It’s too hot for pajamas. Even with the air conditioner.

  For a moment, I consider turning on the ancient TV. But it has been years since I even liked a show, let alone watched one.

  So I sit on the bed and finish my pre-bed meal. Even after I clean up my small mess and wash my face and hands, I’m not tired.

  It’s the exact opposite.

  My body hums, damn near vibrating like a tuning fork. It’s like having a hundred joules of electricity coursing through your veins with no outlet.

  The urge to run, to let the wind soar past me, builds until my legs quake on the inside. I climb to my feet and pace. My skin crawls.

  “Shit. Is this what an addict feels like?” My arms wind around my midsection, and I glance at the door as the night air seems to beckon.

  I stop. “No. This shit does not control me,” I snarl into the quiet. Some of the tension eases, but the fever in my skin worsens.

  Walking to the bed, I snare a pillow and toss it a foot away from the air conditioner and angle the vents down. I drop next to the pillow and lay on the carpet.

  The fabric beneath my head has more of the evergreen fragrance inside it, and it helps lull my body into a stupor as some of the heat finally dispels.

  I settle back with a sigh, hands over my stomach. “Oh thank god.”

  Which is of course when the ache begins.

  My eyes widen as my sex seems to swell, tightening and rippling without reason. I shift. The cool air goes from pleasant to torture as my nipples peak. I groan and try to turn over.

  Every rub of my thighs together makes the need worse. Flopping back, I shove my hand under the waistband of my panties. Anything to get some relief.

  My skin is slick, ready, and the bud at my apex is rock-hard, engorged. I press a finger into my core and my spine arches. “O
h god.”

  Never, even when Chuck would go down on me, did it feel like this. Everything is heightened and too sensitive. It borders on a pleasure so sharp it’s pain.

  I slide a second finger into my heat and pump slowly. My core tightens. I work myself as gentle as I can manage, trying to learn the new curve of sex as a bitten shifter.

  But my traitorous mind throws up a pair of near silver eyes and tattooed biceps. It takes seconds of Tanner filling my head, and the orgasm rips into me with waves so strong, I scream. My thighs clench and my chest heaves, and still I pump into my body, making the pleasure last. My eyes roll back.

  I shake uncontrollably when I slump back down. Everything spins as my blood flows back to my extremities. My breathing is loud. Erratic.

  “God.”

  But the orgasm did what all the pacing and cool air couldn’t. My body grows heavy, languid. I coast along on the aftershocks, luxuriating in being sexually satisfied for the time being.

  What would sex be like for real?

  Turning on to my side, I shove that thought away, scrunch up the pillow, and snuggle down to sleep while I can.

  Chapter 9

  Tanner

  I knock on Caine’s door at a little after ten a.m. and try not to let my eyes wander to Nisha’s dark cabin. A part of me really hopes she was making good use of the prepaid cable and what I heard earlier wasn’t what I thought it was.

  The sexiest damn scream ever.

  Shit had my dick in my hand before I could think. Which is why we need to hightail it to Silver Rock before she wakes up.

  Caine’s door opens and I do a double take. “Holy fuck.”

  The demon forwent his normal GQ chic for a page out of Ruin’s book. Nearly black jeans and a black T-shirt pair with a set of shitkickers from hell. The metal studs and buckles climbing his legs scream ‘fuck me in all the twisted ways possible’.

  He lowers a pair of thick aviator glasses down the bridge of his nose and peers at his boots. “Too much?”

  My lips tremor. “Nah. Should be fine … If we make it to the biker bar on the edge of town.”