Damage Report

by Mandy M. Roth

  She kept her hands on her hips, trying to appear as if she had a chance of winning in the stubborn-streak area. She wasn’t so sure she did. He seemed to be a world class champ in the field. “I’m not stuck with anyone or anything. I’m going home. Move.”

  He caught her around the waist and yanked her to him, making her body heat more. She was torn between slapping him and kissing him.

  “You’re not setting foot in that club without me,” he said, his warm breath skating over her cheek. “No man is to even look at you, let alone touch you. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing working in a place like this, but it ends this instant. You’re coming home with me. Where you belong.”

  “Excuse you, Boss, erm, Weston,” she said, liking the feel of being held by him, but disliking his blanket proclamation. She wasn’t one to be owned. No. She’d been on her own for far too long to let some testosterone-driven jackass start calling the shots all of the sudden. “I don’t know you. You don’t own me. You’re not my boss.”

  He snorted. “Sweetheart, I’m a hell of a lot more than your boss. I’m your mate.”

  Mate?

  Gale and her friends had talked about mates before. They were supernaturals destined for one another. They said the bond between them was instantaneous, as was the attraction. And they joked about how feral and overprotective the males were of their mates. How they bordered on pigheaded jerks and that nature left them acting that way. Something about the inborn need to see to it their mate was protected at all costs, sometimes to the sanity of the mate in question.

  This guy had the pigheaded jerk part down pat.

  Her mouth opened and then closed again as words failed her. She couldn’t be his mate. She didn’t even know him. And she hadn’t planned to be at the club. She’d just needed to recharge her batteries and couldn’t put it off anymore. Then, he’d just wandered into the place and started making out with her. As she thought harder about it, she found her ire rising once more. “Wait a minute, what are you doing in a whorehouse if you’re not the owner?”

  He stiffened and then released his hold on her, backing up and raising his hands. If his goal was to appear innocent, he failed, miserably. “Now, baby, listen. I told you I’m a bear-shifter, right?”

  “You did,” she said, eyeing him closely, realizing why he was really there, and it wasn’t to save her. He was there for a paid booty call, just like all the other guys who frequented the establishment. “You forgot to mention you were a sleazebag jerk who seeks out sex in clubs and who apparently likes to buy the virgin prize package.”

  His face reddened. “It’s not like that.”

  “Looks just like that to me, Boss.” She pointed at him. “And you dared to lecture me.”

  He kept his hands up. “Baby, listen. Please. I haven’t had sex in weeks and I’m overdue, and I was worried if I went searching for you without scratching that itch first, I might hurt you.”

  She gave him a pointed stare, wondering if he realized how ridiculous his point was. “Does saying it out loud make you realize how stupid it sounds?”

  He had the decency to offer a sheepish smile. “Little bit, yeah.”

  She shook her finger at him in a scolding manner. “Bad bear. Now move. I’m leaving.”

  He lowered his hands. “Paisley, please. Hear me out.”

  “Oh, I heard you,” she said, shaking her head. “This night keeps getting better and better. Gale is missing. Jinx is gone. Then I need to feed so I show up here hoping to fix that and get tossed and locked in here by some bitch vampire who apparently is going to hand me to her boss. Then my supposed mate shows up in hopes of scratching his itch before he what? Comes to rescue me? Pfft. Right.”

  “You know Jinx? Asher’s mate?” Weston eased closer to her. “Wait, those vampires locked you in here?”

  She nodded. “Yes, the vampires locked me in here. And who is Asher?”

  His jaw set. “And the vampires told you they were giving you to their boss?”

  “I thought you were him,” she said, tugging her skirt down to cover her panties before she tried and failed to fasten her bra. She’d put on enough of a show for Weston. She was done. And she was certainly done with all the nonsense talk of mates. Too many times in her life her hopes had been crushed and she’d learned at an early age that nothing came for free and fairy tales weren’t real.

  Life was a bitch and she just had to figure out how to best survive it. She didn’t need a complication like Weston. Not now. She just needed out of the club and to find Gale. Her friend was missing and she didn’t have time for any of this. The more she thought about it all, the more her emotions began to build, threatening to overtake her. She made a move to dart away as the tears threatened to fall.

  Weston moved up and touched her hands, stopping her actions. “Paisley, look at me.”

  She did, even though she didn’t want to. The man was a weakness she couldn’t afford.

  “And you were going to give yourself freely to this boss guy?” he asked, hurt evident in his voice.

  She barely knew the man, but even she felt bad for him. She shook her head. “No. I was looking for something to attack him with when you entered. I thought you were him and, I don’t know. Something about you made me react differently. I normally only come here to soak up the sexual energy by lingering in the halls. I never participate in the events, obviously. And I never want to. But then you showed up and everything changed. I couldn’t think straight. I just wanted you to finish what you’d started.” The tears she’d done so well at keeping at bay returned. This time with a vengeance. She broke down and Weston dragged her into his arms.

  “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he said, holding her close, offering her comfort that she wasn’t used to receiving. “No one is going to hurt you now. If the boss guy dares to show his face I’ll rip it off and shit down his neck. No one touches my woman. No one. Got it?”

  She laughed through her tears and then stilled, thinking about everything he’d said to her. “Wait, you’re serious? You think I’m your mate?”

  “I know you are,” he said matter-of-factly. The resolve he showed moved her, despite how much she wanted to stay hard to it and to him. “I’ve been dreaming of you for weeks. Then Gus said you were out here and that you needed help and here I am.”

  “Gus?” she asked, having a hard time following along.

  “Long story,” he supplied, wiping her cheeks. “Listen, I get you don’t know or trust me.”

  “Oddly enough, I do trust you,” she said, shaking her head, shocked at her own behavior. She hadn’t survived this long on her own by blindly trusting anyone. “I don’t know why.”

  “Because we’re mates,” he returned with a wink. He then carefully took each side of her bra and moved them to cover her exposed breasts, fastening them in the center. He didn’t try to feel her up or take advantage. Rather, he took care to avoid anything other than being kind and gentle. From the size of him she had to guess that being gentle took a lot of effort on his part.

  He bent and grabbed her shirt, appearing stiff in his movements. For some reason, she didn’t like seeing him sore or thinking he might be in pain.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, touching his back as he was bent.

  He groaned, touching the front of his jeans. “Dying a death by way of a massive fucking erection, but I’ll be fine. You’re what matters here, not me. Let’s get you out of here and then we can figure everything out.”

  “Or,” she said, touching his face as he started to stand, her shirt in his hand. She felt bold around him and free. And there was no denying how horny he made her. He called to whatever she carried deep inside her. It wanted free and it wanted him. No use in denying the fact. “We could get the sex part out of the way….”

  He closed his eyes. “Paisley, I haven’t had sex lately. I’m dangerous to be with. I should be chained for our first encounter. And really, I should do romantic things for you and shit. Whatever it is men do to make women
feel special.”

  She nearly laughed at how out of place he sounded talking about romantic things. “Weston, I understand what you are. I understand what you’re telling me, that you’re dangerous, but honestly, you seem pretty in control to me right now.”

  “It’s all a show, baby. Trust me, I’m a stone’s throw away from fucking you senseless.”

  She licked her lips, wanting what he was suggesting. “Do it. Fuck me senseless. We have the room and it’s made for that type of thing. Let’s use it.”

  Chapter Six

  Weston couldn’t tear his gaze from Paisley. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. “Baby, I’m a mess of a man. You need to know that upfront. And while that may be true, I’m a big enough man to know how to do right by my woman.”

  “And you think I’m your woman?” she questioned, her lips in a slight pout. He wanted to kiss them. He resisted in spite of it being one of the hardest things he’d ever done. As much as he wanted to deny who she was to him, he couldn’t. He knew in his bones she was his. He didn’t need someone else to verify as much. He wasn’t as thick-headed as some alpha males, even if others thought he was.

  “I know so. I think you do too.” He touched the top swell of her left breast, her skin smooth under his fingertips. Didn’t she understand what seeing her undone like this was doing to him? Didn’t she get how dangerous he could be? “It’s why you were willing to give yourself to me when I walked into this room. And before you protest, didn’t you just tell me you had no urge to do so before I came along?”

  She stilled and then glanced downward, taking a deep breath before meeting his gaze once more, her hand going to his. “I’ve never wanted anyone to touch me like I want you to touch me. I’ll admit that. What does this mean?”

  “That your mate is a sleazebag jerk who sought out sex in clubs and who apparently likes to buy the virgin prize packages,” he said with a wink.

  A smile was his reward, and damn if she didn’t look even sexier wearing it. He wanted to touch her lips, run his fingers over them and then sample them once more. “Boss guy.”

  He grinned. “That’s right, baby. Don’t forget it.”

  She took his hand in hers and brought it to her cheek. No additional words were spoken as she planted a tender kiss on each of his knuckles and then took her shirt from his other hand. She eased it over her head and then bent, grabbing his shirt for him. “You should put his on before I lick you again.”

  “In that case, I’m ripping the damn shirt to bits,” he said, drawing her closer to him again. He liked touching her. Liked making contact. He knew deep down that he should hightail it out of the club with her. That something was off there and she wasn’t safe, but damn if he didn’t dip his head and capture her lips with his own.

  He moaned as she opened her mouth to him. It took all he had to drag his mouth from hers, the taste of her still on his lips. He sighed. “We need to go.”

  “I know,” she whispered, remaining near him.

  The door to the room burst open and Weston flung himself over Paisley, covering her with his body, protecting her from the shards of wood as they splintered. On high alert, he twisted, coming around fast, his claws emerging, ready to protect what was his.

  Paisley.

  Her screams echoed around the room as it filled with the motherlode of hybrids. The vampire chicks who had told him about Paisley being in the room were there, grinning from ear to ear. They laughed as several of the large male hybrids moved in on him. Some, like other hybrids Weston had encountered over the last few months, didn’t look anything like a human any longer. And all of them smelled rotten, as if they were decaying before his eyes. Whoever or whatever was creating these things hadn’t quite gotten the mix right because nothing should smell as they did.

  “Tear him to bits, boys,” said the shaved head one. “Boss wants the girl. He’s got a soft spot for succubus. Try not to mess her up too much. If you do kill her, I’ll lie and tell him the shifters did it.”

  Weston didn’t react to her, though he did have to agree with Paisley—the chick was a bitch. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure his woman was covered from the view of prying eyes. She was fully dressed. He eased her back more, keeping her behind him. He didn’t want any of these newly formed assholes to take a swing at her.

  “Am I late?” Bane appeared in the doorway, looking winded, blood dripping from his mouth. His shirt was missing and his pants were partially undone. Either the fight he’d been in prior to arriving was one hell of a battle or Bane had given in to the temptation of sating his alpha needs. He flashed a wide smile and stared around the room. “Goodie, I didn’t miss the party.”

  “Been up to no good?” asked Weston, noticing his friend’s hands were bloody.

  “They started it. I was just minding my own business, enjoying a bit of a show and bam, they tried to get in on the action.” Bane glanced at Paisley. “And what have you two been up to?”

  “Not as much as I’d have liked,” said Weston with a snort, his gaze lingering on the enemy. He waited for them to make the first move. For them to show their hand. It didn’t take long. A hybrid lunged at Weston and he attacked, going at them with precision and force. These assholes weren’t laying a hand on Paisley. Period.

  Bane leapt into the room, tackling two of the enemy at one time. He came up off the floor with a head in one hand and an arm of the enemy in the other, a shit-ass-grin on his face.

  Weston twisted, slashing a hybrid in half, the blood splatter just missing him fully, hitting the vampires in the face instead. One of them screamed and he shook his head. “Playing with the big boys now, ladies. And really, you’re vampires, a little blood and guts should be sexy to you.”

  The shaved head one glared at him. “Kill him!”

  Weston snorted. “Think that is what they’re trying to do, precious?”

  Bane threw one of the hybrids so hard he went through the wall, cutting a new exit there for them all to take. Weston turned as he heard Paisley gasp. Fear lodged in his throat at what he might find. He was expecting to find her either at the mercy of the bad guys or dead.

  He paused mid-swing at another of the men when he watched his mate there, standing on the bed, kicking and landing a good hit on one of the hybrids trying to grab for her. Pride welled in him at the sight of her there, looking like some kind of pint-sized warrior princess.

  “Look out!” she shouted, as Weston took a blow to the back of the head and neck, sending him to his knees.

  Growling, he pushed up quickly and twisted, dealing with the threat instantly, rendering the hybrid useless. He turned and went at two more, his gaze searching the room for Bane. There was a large pile-up in the corner to the other side of the bed. There had to be at least six hybrids there, piled high on one another.

  Weston went at the hybrid near Paisley first, ripping him back and throwing him in the direction of the vampire women. “Catch.”

  Paisley scrambled off the bed and nearly slipped in a pool of blood and bits on the floor. Weston caught her, dragging her against him, shaking slightly, realizing just how much adrenaline had been running through him and just how worried about her he’d been.

  She wasn’t shaking in the least, which surprised him. She pushed on his chest. “Your friend needs help.”

  “Nah, he’s fine.” Weston said, knowing Bane could take a measly six hybrids. No sooner did the words leave Weston’s mouth than Bane came roaring up from the pile, his top half partially shifted into a gorilla, making his mass even more so.

  Pulling Paisley against his chest, Weston shielded her from seeing what Bane was about to do—tear the remaining hybrids to bits. And he did. Bane then walked calmly over to the bed, pulled the sheet from it and used it to wipe the excess blood from his face, chest and arms as he returned to human form, seeming as calm as ever.

  Guess the monk thing had really worked out for him.

  “We should go now,” said Bane. “I suspect this w
as just the tip of it all.”

  “Agreed,” Weston returned, keeping his woman close as he glanced at the vampires, who were scrambling to get out from under the pile of dismembered hybrids. “Tell your boss he isn’t laying a finger on her. And make it clear if he comes at me or mine again, I’ll come at him. He doesn’t want that.”

  They glared at him as if they wanted to ram hot pokers through his eyes. They probably did. It was a pretty common response to his presence. The one with the shaved head grinned and it was anything but kind. “We know all about you, Outcast. He’ll come for you too and the other.”

  She raked her gaze over Bane.

  Bane shrugged. “Ah, he needs to take a number, sweetheart. I’ve had people coming after me since the day I was born.”

  She shoved a dead hybrid off her and stood, seemingly unconcerned with facing two shifters on her own. As she glanced upwards, Weston followed her gaze, noticing cameras in the corners of the hallways. They were being watched.

  She licked her lips. “The boss and his friends have captured more than one of your kind. In fact, one is so far up a master vampire’s ass that he’s nothing more than a puppet.”

  Weston wanted to go at the woman, to rip her head off and show whoever was watching that he wasn’t playing around. His gut told him not to. That she was stalling, probably for more backup. Backup he wasn’t sure he and Bane could totally take.

  Bane puffed out his chest and made a move to go at the woman. Weston shook his head, grabbing his friend. “Smells like a stall tactic.”

  Bane exhaled loudly and then stepped back. “Agreed. We should go.”

  The shaved head chick looked worried. “What about your friends? We have some of them held captive.”

  He took Paisley’s hand and led her through the opening in the wall rather than the door, since the door was now blocked by carnage. Bane followed close behind. Neither said a word more to the woman or about what she claimed to be fact. They headed toward the front of the club, the back now piled high with dead bodies.