by Unknown
His duty hung like an anchor about his neck. He reached for her, running his hand from her shoulder to her elbow, and downward until he clasped her hand in his. “I have to go back to my truck and get my gear. I’ll walk you back to your house.” He swung his gaze back to Jarvis. “You all right here till I get back?”
“Huh? Yeah, yeah, sure…” The doctor’s head was all but stuck in his bag as he methodically extracted the tools of an ME’s trade, arranging them on the ground near the victim with meticulous precision. Plastic bags, sterile swabs, rubber gloves…
As Cam guided JJ through the woods, he couldn’t help but reflect on the last time he’d walked by her side along a similar path. Her fingers, sunk deep in his fur, had felt every bit as good to him then as her hand in his—palm to palm, fingers laced—did now. Would that this could have been just another casual stroll…
They broke through the trees and rounded the shed just as Red slammed the trunk on his cruiser, one hand fiddling with a button on his uniform shirt.
He didn’t appear aware of them as he ruffled a hand through his bright locks and then stuffed the tail of his shirt into his trousers. He retrieved a large black duffel bag from the ground near his feet and pivoted in their direction. He faltered midstride, but then he ambled on.
“Ms. Frost…Sheriff,” he greeted them, readjusting his grip in the bag. “Where do you want me to get started?”
Once again, Cam felt like an elastic band, pulled in too many directions. Sooner or later, he was just going to snap beneath the pressure.
“I’ll take the kit,” Cam growled, releasing JJ so he could pluck the heavy bag from Red’s hands. “I 244
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was first on the scene, I’ll head back now.”
“But I—”
He cast a murderous glance at Red, cutting him off mid sentence. “You will stay with JJ. You will not leave her side until I personally get back, am I understood?” Red nodded, frowning at Cam as if he’d lost his mind. Cam ignored the petulant look and snapped, “Keep her inside…and out of trouble.” Cam stepped close, until his nose was inches from Reds.
“And for your sake, I better never hear another word about you flippin’ freakin’ quarters for dibs on a crime scene.”
Red’s eyes were the size of aforementioned quarters by the time Cam finished. Bobbing his head, he stepped back, his face matching his hair.
Cam veered back to JJ, consciously softening his tone. “You’ll be fine now. Go on inside, stay with Red. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She was still too pale for his liking, but there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. He had to get back to the crime scene. He shouldn’t have left it to begin with, but he hadn’t been able to stand the thought of her walking through those woods alone…or with someone else. Thank heaven Jarvis knew what the hell he was doing. The last thing he needed right now was to worry about some damned novice screwing up any possible evidence.
Before he realized what he was doing, he feathered an anxious caress over her cheek. Biting off a vicious oath, he stomped passed her and then broke into a steady jog, the black duffel bag tossed over his shoulder.
245
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Chapter 17
Oddly bereft, JJ gawked as he disappeared around the side of the shed. A gentle wind brushed at her bare arms, and she shivered. When had it gotten so cold out here? She hadn’t noticed the chilly night air since…well, since Cam had come charging to her rescue…again…scooping her up into his arms.
Nearly every minute since then, he’d been touching her in one way or another. The loss of contact left a cold physical ache, bone deep.
Rubbing her arms, she staggered around to face Red. Her knees were fast turning to jelly, and she wasn’t altogether certain how much longer they would last before they gave way completely. Red scowled at the shed, or rather the edge around which Cam had disappeared, lost in thought.
“Deputy?”
Seeming to stir himself, Red offered her a somewhat bashful smile. “Sorry…I better get you inside or he’ll have my hide.” He reached for her elbow and led her toward the house with the same solicitous care a boy scout might offer a senior citizen to cross the street. His touch was confident, but a bit stilted. Then again, maybe she’d just grown used to Cam. He didn’t so much touch as he possessed. Shaking her head at her own fanciful thoughts, she assumed the lead up the steps and into the house.
The kitchen light was still on, and JJ went straight to the sink to wash her hands. Sap stuck to her fingers, compounding the soiled feeling. She half wished she were alone. Then she wouldn’t have 246
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thought twice about going upstairs and sinking into a deep, boiling-hot tub of bubbles.
“Come in and have a seat. Make yourself comfortable, Deputy,” she offered over her shoulder.
The way he stood awkwardly by the door, thumbs hooked in his utility belt, shifting from foot to foot, made her strangely uneasy.
“Now, JJ,” he chided. “Just ‘cause you don’t have a few beers under your belt don’t mean you have to go all formal on me. Red worked just fine the other night when I give you girls all a ride home, it’ll work fine tonight, too.”
Drying her hands on a dishcloth, she pivoted and leaned a hip against the cabinets. “You’re right.
I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little…shaken up.”
“Given the circumstances, I’d say you’re allowed.” Red settled himself on a chair, crossing his ankles. “Is there anything I can do for you? Anyone I can call?”
“No, thank you,” she murmured, sliding onto the chair at the opposite end of the table. “Where are my manners? Can I get you something, Red? Coffee or water…I believe I have a couple sodas…”
“A soda would be just fine…though, if you don’t mind my saying so, you look like you could stand something a bit stronger.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Course, Cam probably don’t want you drinking right now, I’m guessing he’s probably gonna want to talk to you again, take an official statement and all.”
JJ plodded to Red, soda in hand. As she held the icy-cold can out to him, her gaze finally registered his appearance. “You’re a mess.” His alarmed stare shot to hers. His eyebrows lifted to his hairline, and then he glanced down at himself as he patted his chest with one hand, as if searching for something. “Excuse me?” Realizing her mouth had run away without her 247
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brain, she lifted a hand to cover the offensive body part, and let out an exhausted giggle. “Oh…I’m sorry. That was rude.”
Red wasn’t paying her apology much attention.
He was too busy examining his shirt and his arms and hands.
“Your shirt buttons are misaligned,” she offered helpfully.
“Oh…ah, thanks,” he muttered as he set to work righting his buttons.
She paused then, tilting her head. “You’ve a bit of dried blood on your neck…right there…” His fingers paused, the button halfway through the hole, and his gaze shot to hers once more.
Following her indication, button forgotten, he slapped a hand to his neck. “Do you have a mirror? I, I must have…cut myself shaving.”
“There’s a small powder room down the hall and to your right.”
She cast a bemused glance at Red as he sprang to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. A few moments later, he returned. The blood was gone.
“Just a nick,” he assured her. His appearance was impeccable now.
Spotless.
She had to stop this. She was overanalyzing everything. Shrugging it off, she took a long swig from her can, savoring the bite of the soda behind gritted teeth. “How long do you think it will be before Cam gets back?”
“Depends on the crime scene, how difficult it is to process…could be a while.”
“Do you think it would be all right…I just feel so…” She trailed away on a shiver of revulsion. “I’d like to go up and take a long, hot shower. Would
that be all right?”
“I’m sure that’d be just fine.”
“Thank you.” Maybe after she lost the disgusting 248
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layer of fear coating her skin, she’d feel normal again.
Checking the impulse to search for car keys, she left Red to his own devices and hurried up the stairs.
In a matter of minutes, lavender-scented steam filled the bathroom, blunting the jagged edges of her evening in the woods. ****
Cam rapped sharply on the back door, and stepped inside as Red opened the door for him. The house was silent, but for the groan and clank of the pipes in the kitchen walls. The kitchen was empty, the rest of the downstairs dark.
“I thought I told you not to let her out of your sight,” he snapped.
“I checked the windows and the front door, the house is secure. She wanted to take a shower…looked like she needed something to calm her nerves,” Red interjected, eyeing Cam warily.
“Given the circumstances, I didn’t figure you meant for me to stick to her side…literally.” At the mere suggestion, a low threatening growl rumbled in Cam’s chest, filling his throat, but he caught it before it snarled through his lips. Cam was on edge, raw…and knew it. Besides, there was no excuse to take it out on his deputy. He honestly couldn’t even be upset over the whole quarter thing.
After all, it wasn’t as if Cam had never done anything similar when he was a deputy himself…and with Austin, no less.
Threading his fingers through his hair, he sagged onto a kitchen chair. It had been a hell of a night. He’d been across town investigating his first solid lead on the vandalism cases. Of course, now the vandals had stepped up their game. The warehouse fire had definitely been arson, the place saturated with accelerant—gasoline, by the smell of it.
What was that old phrase…when it rains, it 249
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pours?
That was his life right about now. It was pouring…and not timid little kittens and puppies.
No, in his world, it rained full-grown bobcats and Great Danes. He wouldn’t dream of prodding fate by asking what next.
“You can take off now.” He leaned back in the chair, propped his ankle on his knee, and crossed his arms over his chest, pinching at the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. His heightened senses had yet to dull, and the sensory overload was beginning to take its toll. “I’ll bring your kit to the office in the morning.” Nodding, silent, Red ducked out, leaving Cam alone with his desolate thoughts, thoughts too troublesome to bear for long in the face of inactivity, and so he puttered about JJ’s kitchen, checking the faucet to make sure it still worked all right, brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Responsibility weighed heavy upon him. He should shift, go back and search the crime scene. But, knowing the futility of that, he opted to stay here.
Opted to guard his female.
A short while later…as Cam sat at the table with a cooling, untouched cup of coffee before him, his elbows propped on his knees…he caught the faint creak on the stairs. He detected her scent moments before she entered the kitchen. Alluring.
Home.
Bright-eyed and pale, JJ shuffled into the kitchen smelling of lavender soap and innocence.
Fresh. Vibrant. Her damp hair hung down the length of her back, nearly to her waist, in fragrant strands. The soft curls beckoned him, tempting him to lose himself in her, forget everything else. Her skin glowed pink from scrubbing. His mouth watered for a taste. Cloud-soft, baby blue cotton pajama pants caught low on her hips by a thin 250
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drawstring. Her tiny feet were bare. Her white T-shirt was worn soft with time, a V-neck like he preferred for himself. It wasn’t hard to imagine her wearing his shirt.
Or nothing at all, for that matter.
She blinked, as if surprised to see him there.
Then her eyes softened, warmed. Something twisted, deep in his chest.
“I sent Red home,” he offered by way of explaining his presence, “Or back to Brandi’s…whatever the case being…”
“Do you need to take an official statement now?” She floated to the counter, taking down another coffee mug and filling it.
“No, I think I have everything I need. I wrote it up before I came back.”
Turning to him, she held the steaming mug in both hands. Her brow wrinkled. “If you don’t need a statement…why are you here?”
“I was worried about you. I didn’t want you to be alone tonight.”
He didn’t want to be alone.
“I’ll be fine.”
What about me? Will I be fine?
“You scared the hell out of me,” he barked.
Where’d that come from?
“I’m sorry, Cam…I just…I didn’t know what else to do, so I called you.” Without taking her eyes from him, she set the coffee cup down with an unsteady hand, and rubbed at her arms as if she were cold. “I kept seeing…” Her gaze drifted beyond him. Her voice dropped, broken and strained. “I keep seeing Sarah…I couldn’t leave…couldn’t leave him like that…alone…”
Sarah… of course.
Sarah DeWitt. JJ’s sister. The article he’d read on the internet, the faxed police reports he’d received from Minneapolis came flooding back. Those vicious 251
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scars. What he wouldn’t give to make it all better for her, to take away the horror and the fear. His skin crawled at the thought of what she must have gone through out there in the woods tonight. Alone.
But she’d called him.
In the minutes she’d needed someone, she’d called him.
That had to count for something.
Her focus came back to the here and now, to him. “Who was that man?”
“Chuck Hughes…the mayor.”
Another pang of guilt clawed him. Three murders and not one scrap of evidence pointing to a suspect. He’d gone over every square inch of each crime scene. He’d reviewed every file front to back and back to front. He’d stared at crime scene photos until the images had burned themselves into his nightmares. And he was no closer to catching the killer than he had been the night Lori had been murdered.
Damn it.
“I was so scared, Cam.” Her words were soft, carrying with them the bite of shame.
Everything else faded to nothing. He was on his feet and across the room before he realized he’d moved. Gathering her into his arms, he pressed her close, murmuring soothing sounds against her hair.
“I was scared, too.”
“You?” She snuffled against his shirt, and gave a tiny snort of disbelief. “I doubt anything could scare you.”
“Not much scares me,” he admitted. He took hold of her shoulders, edging her back just a little, just enough so that he could look down into her face.
The next words that poured forth shocked him to his core, even as he realized the gleaming ring of truth in them. “But you do…you terrify the living bejesus out of me.”
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Her beautiful blue eyes widened, and she went utterly still beneath his hands. The lush curve of her lips parted on a soundless breath. He couldn’t resist.
Cam brushed his lips, ever so softly, across hers.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Those tiny nibbles only fueled his hunger.
He’d intended his kisses to be those of comfort and reassurance, but they swiftly turned to voracious, blatant, carnal need. Blazing out of control. Consuming his restraint.
With a low growl, he slipped an arm around her waist and hauled her flush against him. Cam seized her lips, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth as he claimed the sweet curve of her bottom with his free hand. Squeezing possessively, he held her immobile as he thrust his hips against her, leaving no room for doubt as to how much he wanted. Her tongue parried with his, tangled, danced. Her lips were so soft. The taste of her pulled him under, straight into a riptide of emotion. He knew she was vulnerable, knew in his
heart that if he were a better man, he’d walk away now.
Evidently, he wasn’t a better man. He was a Werewolf. There would be no turning back now, no time for second-guessing, and no room for self-doubts.
At last.
He would claim his mate.
He’d waited a lifetime for this it seemed…without knowing he’d been waiting. Her hands slipped up his chest, over his shoulders, and her fingers laced through his hair as she yielded to his demanding kiss. She was paradise, pliant in his arms. He had to remind himself how tiny she was, remind himself of his strength. He had to be careful with her.
She wasn’t making it easy. She was so responsive, so damned willing. It was hard to slow 253
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down, and getting harder by the moment, difficult to rein in the instinctual need to mate. He should know better than to try. The others had often warned him—with smirks and sly winks—that when a Werewolf found his mate, sex was anything but civilized.
Understanding now dawned…with a vengeance.
In his current state of arousal, civility was nothing more than a thin veneer masking the slavering, lusting beast within. Something deep inside, something primordial and fundamental was changing inside him. It snapped at his control, shredding his will. Nothing short of divine intervention could stop him from claiming her as his own now.
In one seamless motion, he swept an arm beneath her knees, lifting her high against his chest.
His mouth still locked on hers, Cam strode from the room and down the hallway. The stairs disappeared beneath his boots, two at a time, and he carried her inside the first open bedroom doorway. The scent of her was stronger here.
The moment her feet touched the bare floor beside her bed, she tore her lips from his. Her arms remained locked around his neck. Luminous blue eyes stared up at him through a haze of passion as she swayed against him. “Cam,” she whispered breathlessly, “what are you doing?” His wry laugh was harsh, ragged in his throat.
His entire body vibrated with the depth of his need.
His hands shook from the fierceness of his desire as he fumbled his phone from his pocket, thumbed it off before tossing it on her bedside table. His dead pager followed a second later. The muscle in his jaw snapped and pulsed as he strained for some semblance of control.
