Hunger's Mate

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Hunger's Mate Page 5

by A. C. Arthur


  “You don’t know me,” she stated, her voice louder than before.

  Ezra stepped to her then. She tried to back away but her legs hit the steps that were right behind her. Reaching out he caught her again, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other going up to her head to pull the wig away. “Do you know yourself?” he asked.

  Ezra backed away from her, holding the wig in his hand, watching her lift her hand up to touch the short strands that were naturally hers. His mind screamed for him to back off, to drop the weird-looking patch of hair and get the hell away from the female and whatever her troubles were, but he didn’t listen.

  “It’s just an accessory,” she told him, making a point to meet his stare. “Like the belt you have holding up your pants. If you take it off you’re still the same person.”

  He liked how fast she could think, how quickly she rebounded after what was an assault to the persona he figured she’d worked so hard to build. Ezra was positive that this was more than just an accessory, it had become a part of her life, a necessary part. The question was, why?

  “Are you the same person, Jewel?” he asked. “Without this wig, without those contacts, are you the Jewel Jenner everybody here thinks you are?”

  There’d only been one other occasion that Ezra had seen the look Jewel now wore on her face. It had been just before the cat had taken form and subsequently taken a life. The other time, place, and circumstances may have been drastically different but he had done something he now regretted. That was then and it was a place he didn’t want to go, hadn’t gone to in years. Now, thankfully, Ezra was certain that his eyes hadn’t changed to that of his cat, and his human form was still very much intact. So why was she looking like she’d just seen a ghost?

  “It’s none of your damned business who I am!” she yelled at him. “None of your business at all!”

  This time when she turned he knew she’d run up the stairs. She probably knew every corner of this resort, Ezra thought as he stood there fingering the wig and not going after her. She’d parked in the shipping parking lot, where he just happened to be after enjoying a run in Bas’s secluded wooded area. He’d watched her pull up as he dressed in the shadows of the building. Then she’d climbed out of the car and run as if she actually thought someone was out there with her. Ezra hadn’t seen anyone, only her.

  Even now as he walked back outside, retracing her steps to her car, he still didn’t see any signs of another person and the only scent he picked up was hers. The fear was so thick it could possibly choke him, if it wasn’t already making him angry as hell. His fingers gripped the wig as he made his way back to the building. He tossed it into the Dumpster just before going through that same back door once more. This time trying like hell not to remember how hot and wet Jewel was beneath his fingers. The fingers that still carried her female scent, which if he lifted them to his nose right now would have his dick growing even harder than it had been when she’d been there with him.

  More energized now after his run, senses overloading his mind, dick hard and ready to sink inside her hot, sweet … By the time Ezra came to the resort lobby his mind was definitely where it should not be. Still, he made his way to the elevators, to the floor where Jewel’s room was located, because despite the warning in his head—the spiritual one that he’d vowed like hell to fight—he needed to know what the hell was going on with Jewel Jenner.

  * * *

  Don’t cry. Don’t break. Don’t panic.

  Jewel recited these words over and over again as she paced back and forth in her room. She was overreacting, she was sure. There had been nobody following her. If there had, why wouldn’t they have approached her in the parking lot? Why not come for her at the nursing home? She’d been alone at each instance and nobody else had been around. It would have been the perfect opportunity. For what? For Larry to make good on the threat he’d repeated to her time and time again.

  She dropped down onto the couch, her legs screaming for mercy after she’d run up four flights of stairs and straight down the hall to her room. She hadn’t stopped even when she’d almost knocked down one of the room-service attendants and the tray he was holding in the hallway. She’d kept right on running until she’d slammed the door to her room, slapped the two latches against it, and lodged a chair beneath the handle for good measure.

  Now she sat trying to get control over what was going on in her mind and with her damned traitorous body. Her fear had been palpable, lodged in her throat like a knot and yet the moment Ezra had touched her she’d melted into a simpering puddle of desire. She’d wanted his mouth on her, all over her. The way his tongue dueled with hers had lit a flame long since blown out. Her breasts had instantly swelled, her juncture quivering with need. And as if he’d sensed that need he’d zeroed in, touched her there and with an immediate rush of arousal anxiety surfaced.

  Sex was not good. Not for her. It had been a necessity, yes, but it had never been good. And she’d sworn if that was the way it had to be, she would simply forego it altogether. The exposure of her most intimate self, the vulnerability it produced simply wasn’t worth it. Not to her, not again. So with hands still shaking, body still alive with the basic physical reaction she’d decided to ignore, she figured it was time to strategize once again.

  Her shower had been quick because, allowing the fear to take precedence over the arousal, the last thing she wanted was for someone to come for her while she was naked and dripping wet. The last thing Jewel wanted anyway was for someone to come for her. She’d been safe so long, they’d both been safe, but now, now she felt like that might be over.

  Running her hands through the damp curls she tried to think of what she would do, where they would go. It had to be someplace far. She knew she hadn’t gone far enough when she’d settled here in Sedona. She should have left the country. Dropping her head, she whimpered, then cut off the pathetic sound. No crying. No whimpering. No turning back.

  She stood again, went into the bedroom area, and fell to her knees on the floor. Pulling the largest of her luggage from beneath the bed, she opened the flap and looked inside. Fleece blankets, some with lovely canyon designs, others with brilliant colors. She’d been collecting them since she’d arrived here. One, her favorite, in the rich golden hues of her father’s favorite sunsets, was wrapped around a safe. She held the cool metal of the small box in her hand and let her nervous fingers work the lock until it clicked free.

  The velvet bag inside was warm when she lifted it out, holding it in the palm of her hand. She clasped her hands together, bringing them to her forehead as she closed her eyes and prayed for more time, for another location, for the peace she’d had for three years but was probably no more. Opening her eyes she unworked the rope holding the bag closed and poured the contents into her open palm.

  They sparkled and glistened, staring up at her with such potential, such excitement. Jewel took a deep breath as she stared down at the diamonds. They’d been cut and shipped from a mine in the Sierra Leone rain forest. She knew this from the note that had originally been included in the pouch. The note she’d scanned then burned. The diamonds were worth millions. If she sold them, she could leave the country. Her father could leave the country and they’d both be safe, they’d be happy. She doubted the latter, but she was at least holding out for safety, especially for her father.

  The loud and persistent knock at her door had her jumping and almost dropping the precious stones onto the floor. With hurried movements she put them back in the bag, closed and locked the safe, and buried it beneath the blankets once more. Kicking the suitcase under the bed she brushed down the wrinkled T-shirt and old sweatpants she’d thrown on after her shower and hurried out to answer the door.

  It took her a couple seconds to dislodge the locks, move the chair, and then she was yanking the door open. Jewel was beyond surprised to see Jacques standing on the other side. It was late and there was nothing pressing on their agenda that he would need to visit her, in her room, at this ho
ur. Jewel knew that some of the staff at Perryville thought she was sleeping with Jacques, but that could not have been further from the truth. When she’d first began working here she’d thought that maybe she would have to lay down the law early about relationships with any of the men that seemed to sprout from the ground out here, but surprisingly, she hadn’t. It was as if she’d been wrapped in bright yellow DO NOT TOUCH tape so they’d all kept their distance.

  Jacques was the only one that routinely checked on her, in his candid and serene manner. He seemed to be just there, all the time. Including tonight of all nights.

  “Hi,” she said, trying to sound as normal as she possibly could.

  “Good evening,” was his reply. “Can I come in?”

  The last time Jacques had been to her room he’d used his key and he’d locked her inside for a time afterward. Told her it was for her safety as there’d been a break-in at the resort. She knew that to be mostly true since she’d seen the intruders while she’d been below in the bunkers with Priya Drake, the reporter that was now sleeping with the owner of the resort. Talk about moving up in the world.

  “Sure,” she answered, stepping back to let him in. Once she closed the door and faced him it was her turn to ask a question. “What’s going on? Is there an issue with the wedding party?”

  “No,” Jacques replied immediately.

  He looked serious, as usual, his dreadlocks tied neatly at his nape, hanging to the midway point of his back. His black slacks were the perfect length to rest atop the black boots he wore, his beige shirt tucked neatly inside. He moved throughout the living area of her room as if he occupied the space with her, touching a finger along the back of the couch as he passed by, stopping and turning as he stood beside the end table.

  “You went out tonight. Did you have a good time?”

  Jewel tilted her head, trying to see if she could figure out where this conversation was going. She already knew she didn’t want to have it, didn’t want him to be here right now. From the way he was looking at her she got the sense that Jacques knew this too.

  “I was not on duty tonight, so yes, I went out. I had a good enough time and now I am back. Is there a problem with that?”

  His even look changed with a lift of a thick dark brow. He folded his arms over his chest, his shoulder muscles bunching with the motion. Jacques wasn’t a broadly built man like … she didn’t want to think of him at all. Still, Jacques possessed this quiet type of strength, a lethalness she could never quite explain but felt each time she was near him. It was like that with all of them, Sebastian Perry, Jacques, Syfon and Paolo, and the others that she saw hanging around near the bunkers even more frequently since the break-in. Danger hovered around them like a dark cloud and she’d long wondered why.

  “No problem,” he said with a shrug. “Just wanted to check on you.”

  “There’s no need,” she replied as nonchalantly as she could. How did he know she’d gone out? Was he the one watching her? “I went out. I’m back now and all is well.”

  She said the last as happily as she could manage, even offering a smile to seal the deal.

  “We should meet sometime tomorrow to go over logistics for the wedding festivities again. I checked my e-mails when I came in and the bride wants changes, as expected.” Jewel kept right on talking as if this was the most natural visit in the world, even though her gut told her something totally different.

  “You know you can always take one of the resort vehicles and a driver when you need to go out,” he told her.

  “What? Why? Are any of the other employees using the resort vehicle and a driver?” She knew they weren’t and up until this moment had never been offered the same.

  “You’re not other employees. You’re my assistant and if you need to go somewhere, you can have a driver take you in one of our vehicles. It’s no big deal,” he stated frankly.

  And yet, Jewel knew that it was. It was a big, controlling deal that reminded her so much of Larry she almost took a protective step back.

  “I don’t need special treatment, Jacques. I have a perfectly functional vehicle that can take me wherever I want to go. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late,” she said, moving toward the door. She thought that might sound a little rude, but really didn’t care at the moment. She wanted him out of this room right now, before her panic attack escalated and he saw a side of her she didn’t want anyone to see, ever.

  Thankfully, he only nodded and walked toward the door. With great relief, she opened it and held her breath as he stopped, giving her a questioning look and said, “If you need anything, you know all you have to do is ask. You’re a valued employee here, Jewel. If I can help make your life here easier, I will.”

  She swallowed, hating the words that sounded so nice on the surface, but scared the hell out of her.

  “I’m fine,” she managed once more. “Really, I’m just fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Again, he nodded, his face still a solemn mask of good looks. “See you in the morning,” he told her before turning and walking away.

  Jewel closed the door, engaging all the locks as she had before, including the chair, before going back into her bedroom, where she fell face-first onto the bed, tears stinging her throat.

  * * *

  “You were right,” Jacques told Ezra when he rounded the corner after leaving Jewel’s room. “She’s afraid.”

  “Of what?” Ezra asked tightly, his fists already clenching at his sides. “How long has she been here? What do you know about her?”

  “Bas did the background check. I read it briefly and she was cleared,” Jacques told him.

  “Just like that?”

  Jacques frowned. “Just like that.”

  “I want to know everything about her. Where she’s from, how she came to be here and what the hell is going on with her now,” Ezra insisted, his hands clenching at his sides, an unfamiliar emotion soaring through his body simultaneously with the simmering anger.

  He’d sensed fear before, pain and death and a host of other emotions, in humans as well as shifters. None of those instances compared to what he was feeling here and now, what he’d felt the moment the scent of her fear had permeated his senses. Now, all he could focus on was the fact that he needed to find the source and put a painful end to it. To save her in some way.

  Then he would address the other—the arousal that to a lesser shifter may have been debilitating, but to him was simply a growing nuisance. Or maybe he wanted to think that was all it was.

  “Hold on a second, here,” Jacques told him, raising a brow and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked like he was contemplating, figuring something out, and about to draw all the wrong conclusions.

  Ezra was actually finished talking to him. “Forget it, I’ll find out on my own,” he snapped, moving around the other shifter.

  Jacques grabbed his arm and Ezra reacted. Moving with the agility of his cat, he reached out, twisting Jacques’s arm and pushing the Enforcer into the wall.

  “You planning on stopping me?” he asked, lips drawing back in a snarl, teeth sharpening and pressing into his bottom lip.

  “Stand down,” Jacques said in a voice all too calm, considering Ezra could break his arm at any second.

  The other man was in a higher position than Ezra, but he didn’t give a damn. Or at least Ezra hadn’t thought of that before he’d reacted, which was a bit strange for him. Still, he only loosened his grip minutely as he continued to glare at the shifter.

  “I won’t have anything happening to her, not while I’m here. So I’m putting you on notice that I plan to find out everything there is to know about Jewel Jenner, and if there’s something, or God help me someone, in her past that needs to be addressed, that’s what the hell I plan to do.” The words had rolled out of his mouth without any pre-thought. He’d staked a claim he wasn’t even sure he had a reason to. And he wasn’t about to take it back, not one damned word.

  “I said, stand down,” Jacqu
es repeated. “This is not necessary and you know it.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation where Ezra thought about what Jacques had said. Those thoughts mixed with a replay of what had happened in the parking lot. Logic permeated the haze of desire and possessiveness that had come on faster than he could comprehend.

  He released Jacques, moving away from him and back down the hall toward the stairway without saying another word. There was nothing left to say. He knew what he had to do and he planned to do it, without explaining his reasons to anyone else. If he allowed himself to really think about that, he’d admit he didn’t have an explanation anyway.

  Ezra went to the room he’d been given at Perryville. It was located on the ground floor, on the opposite side of the spa, so that he wasn’t visible among the other guests of the resort. It was imperative that he keep a low profile while at the resort. He’d rented an apartment closer to the lab that would coincide with the persona of the lonely, geeky, almost broke Chicago transplant they’d created for him.

  The accommodations were still on the nice, if small side, and he’d decided as soon as this job was complete he’d be happy to return to Havenway, the shifter headquarters in Alexandria. At least, that’s the way he’d originally felt. Now, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the bed, Ezra moved to the small desk pressed against the wall on the opposite side of the room and sat down. Opening his laptop, his thick fingers pressed the button to boot up the machine so hard he probably could have broken it. While the computer did its wake-up-and-play mode, Ezra sat back in the chair, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose for a quick massage.

  What the hell was he doing? What had he been thinking?

  He shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have put his tongue in her mouth, his finger in her warm, dripping wet center. He shouldn’t have ingested her fear and worry, taking it on as another part of his genetic makeup. He should have kept his distance. Isn’t that what he was good at? Being with a woman and not being with her at the same time? Yes, that was his specialty. It had been since Acacia, the beautiful Lormenian shifter, had taught him and Eli an invaluable lesson in sex, love, and life.

 

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