by Aline Hunter
As if that wasn’t enough, the information garnered by his staff indicated Shepherds had finally made their way to the city. When they hit a place with a sizable shifter population the goal was simple—eradication.
Rocking back and forth in his chair, he weighed his options.
Right now the locket was a liability and, as it was in his keeping, placed him in danger. Since Ava made it clear she wouldn’t meet with him or his people again following the rendezvous that never happened—a direct consequence of the heirloom that now marked her—it seemed like the possibility of engaging her interest was out of his grasp. Perhaps he could up the ante, and in doing so protect her while enlisting her services and salvaging his own ass. Either way, the locket had to go. No matter the consequence. The sooner he got the thing away from him the better. Time was no longer on his side.
After returning the box and closing the drawer, he drummed his fingers atop the desk, all but certain of his decision. If he couldn’t return the relic to its rightful owner, he’d have to entrust someone else to do it for him, even if it meant taking an enormous risk. The time for reflection was over. Things were about to get messy, for shifter and Villati alike.
A bigger, badder breed of hunter had arrived in town.
Chapter Nine
Ava waited until Diskant stepped inside her apartment before she turned and closed the door behind them. The meeting with Thomas had gone exactly as she’d thought it would. Her brother had been cashing out his tab by the time they’d arrived, five minutes late, and from his expression—both shocked and angry—she knew he was eager to take the deed and sell it elsewhere.
Thank god Diskant knew back alleyways and shortcuts to get there faster. Otherwise her asshole sibling would have been long gone and her opportunity would have passed.
She walked to the kitchen and studied the manila envelope clutched in her hand for a moment before placing it atop the cheap Formica counter. As she emptied her pockets, placing the cell and her keys on top of the yellowed paper, she allowed a moment of happiness and relief to wash over her. All of her saving, planning and scrounging had worked.
Finally, after all these years, the cabin was hers.
She’d never understood why her parents left her silly things, such as jewelry and heirlooms, while they passed a vital part of her childhood to Thomas. They’d known how irresponsible he was and what he was likely to do with the property.
Diskant’s substantial weight on her shoddy and pockmarked floorboards caused the wood to creak, and she glanced over her shoulder to watch as he studied her home, his hawklike eyes homing in on the pictures crammed into the shelving molded into the wall. He walked past the couch and coffee table and stopped in front of rows of photos, studying each one intently.
He seemed so out of place standing inside the cream-colored room with the matching slipcovers protecting the couch and sofa, his jeans covered by leather chaps matching an oversized black leather trench coat and scuff-marked boots. His hair was slightly messy from the ride over on the bike, a few random strands attached to the whiskers along his jaw.
God he was a fine specimen of man, too deliciously tempting for his own good. Not only was he the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen, but when Thomas had tried to blow her off and escape their meeting, Diskant had proved he was equally protective, all but cornering her sniveling brother into an adjoining booth to get down to business.
Diskant had taken the seat beside her and made the basis of their relationship obvious by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and playing with the wisps of hair at the back of her neck. Although he’d seemed at ease, she knew he’d digested every single word spoken. Each time Thomas raised his voice or tried to overplay his hand Diskant would nail him with a warning stare—allowing the threat to soak in—before returning his undivided focus to her.
Despite her vow to talk rather than engage in more sexual play, she’d felt her body respond as she recalled his calloused fingers against her skin, the way his warm breath tickled the flesh at her nape. His touches were so teasing and gentle, so very different from the night before. As she shivered in remembrance, the area he’d bitten pulsed and throbbed, along with various other regions of her body.
Diskant went stock-still as she studied him, and she knew he smelled her growing desire. Hell, she’d been in a constant state of arousal since she’d woken. As she’d never been one to engage in unrestricted and uninhibited sex, her newfound libido was unexpected and confusing. As were the questions of exactly what was occurring between them. Unlike normal relationships that included a courtship and warm-up period, this one barreled full speed ahead without any concern for things like compatibility, mutual interests or future plans.
Desperate for normalcy, she denied her rising need by clamping her thighs together but couldn’t mask her gasp when Diskant turned to her and she glimpsed irises the color of vibrant emerald. Four long, catlike strides and he stood in front of her. He cradled her jaw in his hands as he lowered his head, his tongue sliding out to caress her lower lip.
One lick and her body erupted into a fit of heat. Never had she felt a pull so strong. As if she would die if he didn’t bury himself inside her, over and over again, until they were both spent. Strange, high-pitched cries echoed through the small space and she realized they were whimpers emitting from her throat. She grasped his wide shoulders to remain upright when her knees failed her, tremors preventing her from speaking coherently. The walls of her core went taut then released, aching for the relief she intuitively knew only Diskant could provide.
“Fuck, Ava.”
Rough hands snagged her slacks and made quick work of the buttons. Diskant slid the material down her thighs, skimming his fingers along her skin. Her shoes were gone in moments, stripped away with her socks and pants. He lifted her on the way back up and placed her ass on the chilled counter as he took up the space between her legs. A couple of deft motions and his cock burst free from his jeans, the plumlike tip slick and engorged.
There was no precursor, no preparation, but it wasn’t necessary. Her eager body quivered in delight when she felt the head part her, seek entrance and slide past the folds as Diskant shifted his hips and claimed her entirely.
Clutching at his jacket, she buried her face in his neck, breathing him in, and moaned in bliss when he rolled his hips and began an all-too-familiar dance. Her body rejoiced in the motions, her pussy squeezing tightly before letting go, over and over again. An orgasm rolled through her and she cried out against leather and prickly skin, reveling in the tremors that encompassed every square inch of her body, starting in her belly and expanding outward. This was sex to the millionth power, so potent it electrified her from head to toe.
Within seconds Diskant was following her over the precipice, his hoarse growl both throaty and deep. A sharp thrust arrived just before she felt him pumping his release inside of her, the last spasms of her orgasm milking him to completion. Their combined intakes of air filled in the room, the ticking of the nearby wall clock continuing on as their bodies descended from the high of climax.
Breathless and confused, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Shh.” Diskant silenced her with a quick kiss and slowly eased from her body, his cock still hard and glistening from their combined juices. “It’s normal.” He left her clothes and wrapped one arm around her waist as the other cradled her ass, lifting her from the counter. “Where’s the bedroom?”
She flushed in embarrassment. “You can’t be serious.”
He chuckled and began walking down the hall. “Tempting as the thought of keeping you naked and tied to the bed is, Ava, I’m just trying to make you comfortable. I have things I need to take care of, but not before you’re settled.”
She tried to mask her tension at the reminder of who he was—a shifter of extreme importance. Although she didn’t know of the complexities his life entailed, her gut told her it wasn’t as simple as making phone calls, scheduling da
tes on a desk calendar and making small talk at mandatory dinner meetings.
So where did that leave her, exactly?
More questions than answers assailed her, and she felt that familiar drowning feeling of worry and doubt. He said she was his mate but she’d never seen a shifter mated to a human—aside from the one who nearly ripped out his partner’s throat.
Was it possible to change your mind? Could he have figured out this wasn’t what he thought it was all along?
Why did her heart ache at the possibility?
When Diskant stepped past the threshold into her bedroom, she quickly slid free of his embrace and rushed to the closet to retrieve her robe while he zipped up his jeans. Snagging the plush garment, she placed it in front of her like a barrier, obscuring her thighs and what Diskant’s bulky sweatshirt didn’t cover. He frowned at her obvious attempt at detachment and folded his arms over his chest, becoming intimidating as hell as he blocked the doorway.
“You can see yourself out.” She quickly looked away and sidestepped, trying to squeeze past into the hall. “I’m going to take a bath.”
A hand grasped her wrist and he bent down. Using his free hand, he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and forced her to meet his intense gaze. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me. I said I had things to take care of, not that I was leaving.”
Up until that moment, she’d never known it was possible to experience both relief and sheer panic at the same time. Even as the logical part of her grasped for comprehension, her heart absolutely thrilled in the declaration he was sticking around. Her breath caught as his lips brushed against hers, so soft it was bittersweet, yet maddening.
This was nothing like the night she had planned only days before, nothing at all like the evening she’d envisioned when she’d dressed for work and made her way to the club.
Just inside her closet, a packed suitcase waited. Her vacation to start fresh was supposed to begin the moment she paid off her brother, removed his worthlessness from her life and took a trip to the one place she always felt safest to relax and unwind. Standing here, snared in Diskant’s hold, she didn’t know if this was a beginning, middle or end.
“Listen,” Diskant shifted around and cupped her elbows in his massive palms, “I know this must be confusing for you, and I’m aware that we have a lot to discuss. Take your bath, relax, and when you’re finished I’ll answer all your questions.”
Instead of revealing her plans or arguing, she simply nodded and waited until he let go and moved from her path to scurry down the hall. She felt his eyes on her as she rushed inside the bathroom, flipped on the lights and closed the door.
* * * * *
Diskant didn’t allow himself to breathe until Ava was safely tucked inside the bathroom. The moment the door closed he fished out his cell, anxious to see who the fuck would call him over and over again. The moment he’d slid his cock into the blistering heaven of his mate’s body, basking in her softness and warmth, the damn thing had started vibrating against his ass.
He knew the news was bad when the phone indicated all the calls were from Trey.
Damn.
Trey wouldn’t pull him away from his female unless some serious shit was going down. He pressed send just as the sound of running water erupted behind the door. Glancing at the light spilling from under the thin crack beneath, he strode into the living room. The line clicked over and Trey didn’t waste any time.
“Where the fuck you been? I’ve been trying to call you for the last ten minutes. Get your mate and go straight to Dougan’s. Don’t stop at home and don’t fuck around.”
Dread and alarm heightened his senses. Diskant lifted his head, scenting the air.
“What’s wrong?”
It sounded as if Trey was on the move, wind drifting through the speaker, distorting his voice as he said, “Emory picked up a scent and followed it to a warehouse over in the Red Hook. It’s not good news, man. Get your mate, get to base and stay there. I’m on my way there as we speak.”
“You’d better start talking.”
“Later. Meet me at Dougan’s. We can discuss things there.”
Growling now, Diskant demanded, “What are we dealing with?”
A pause, then Trey snarled the only world that could make Diskant’s blood shift from molten hot to ice cold. “Shepherds.”
Diskant snapped the phone closed without saying goodbye and stomped to the bathroom.
Ava turned from the rising bubbles covering her legs and abdomen. Her mouth dangled open in surprise and her eyes went wide. Even though she only carried the first mark, he knew she would sense his shift in mood, experiencing a surge of adrenaline that arose from danger. While she was human, a touch of all his beasts existed inside her, and now they would always answer his call.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered hoarsely, voice quivering.
He shook off the lush temptation she presented. Grasping her robe resting on the sink, he walked to the tub and shut off the still-blasting faucets before he stepped back and held the garment open.
“We have to go. Get out and get dressed.”
When she didn’t argue, he found himself grateful for their bond for the first time. Human nature survived by questioning. Animalistic tendency, on the other hand, was to take action and ponder later.
Sliding into the robe, she moved past him and hurried into the bedroom. She chose a matching black bra and panties and slid them on as he monitored the hall. All of the beasts under his skin answered the call, ready and willing to come forth to protect what they claimed as theirs. It was ironic that the one shifter who held the most power amongst their kind placed Ava in the most danger. When Shepherds came to town, they remained out of sight before going for the throat. And there was no better way to cut the oxygen supply than to extinguish the Omega of the city.
Which begged the question—why in the hell were they here? New York was a town the zealots rarely ventured to, a location that bred and endorsed violence, sex and misery. Religion had no purpose in a city where gay pride, hedonism and vulgarity were a given.
Ava stepped into her closet, tugged on a cord and quickly chose a thin, bright blue V-neck sweater. She tugged it over her head and yanked a pair of jeans from an adjoining hanger with the first hand she slid through a sleeve. Her motions were frantic, her limbs trembling as her fingers jittered on the zipper of her pants.
Cursing, Diskant attempted to relax and calm the fuck down. His mate was teetering on the brink of something she didn’t fully understand and had no control over. Already she felt the instinct to mate, to bring him into her body over and over again until he cemented their union. She would crave him incessantly, needing his touch, his presence. Adding to that by increasing her fight-or-flight instincts via their connection wasn’t helping.
“Grab the things you might need,” he instructed softly, attempting to remain focused and alert. “I’m not sure how many days we’ll be gone.”
“Days?” She went still and studied him.
“I don’t have time to explain.” When she started to argue he allowed the importance of what was taking place to slip past the emotional barrier he’d created to protect her, ensuring that at the very least she was able to perceive the threat. “Please, Ava.”
Her face paled and she gave a jerky nod. She settled the hem of the sweater over her jeans and walked to the back of the closet. The compact duffel she collected was large in comparison to her—not as tall but nearly as wide.
At his questioning look, she explained, “I planned to make a trip to the cabin to unwind.”
“Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes.” She crouched beside a neatly stacked shoe rack and grabbed a pair.
“Good, we need to go.”
No more arguments or hesitation. The instincts were growing, her bond with him guiding her reactions and responses. He didn’t have the luxury to reflect on the wrongness of their mating occurring like this, before there was a trus
t established that wasn’t the result of unavoidable changes taking place inside her mind, body and soul.
He followed her from the closet and waited as she sat at the end of the bed to put on her socks and shoes. His senses were sharp now, the shifter in him prepared to change in a hurry if necessary. Directly behind the urge to shift and protect was an undeniable amount of lust and, try as he might, it refused to abate. As natural was it was, the timing was all wrong. He hoped like hell that she’d be receptive to his advances once inside the safe house full of shifters. Sex to them wasn’t anything new, just another of life’s miraculous—and enjoyable—blessings. For her, there was certain to be a period of adjustment.
“I’m ready.”
She stood, retrieved the duffel and moved closer to him. When he looked down at her he saw desire etched in her features. Her eyes were cloudy, her lips were slightly parted and her cheeks were flushed. Their gazes caught and her breathing increased, her succulent nipples going hard beneath her bra and shirt, informing him she was more than game for another round of anything he wanted to offer.
Fuck if the Shepherds didn’t piss him off. He had finally found his mate, the only female who would ever sate him entirely, and he was being forced to leave her bereft and needy.
“Soon,” he vowed and took the duffel from her.
Her eyes widened and she looked away. It was embarrassment, he realized. While natural to his kind, the yearning and need to couple often was foreign to her.
“It’s going to be all right.” Placing a hand at the small of her back, he gave her a gentle nudge. “Trust me.”
After collecting her keys and phone, they locked up and started the trek down the stairs. He kept her directly in front of him, eyes alert, nose sharp. The blare of televisions in various apartments merged, along with multiple conversations and, in the distance, the sounds of an ecstatic couple nearing sexual bliss. He tamped down his own need as the image of Pinkie on the counter assailed him, mentally cursing his cock as it slowly rose to life. His mate wasn’t the only one who wanted to cement their union. Ever since he’d gotten a taste of the minx between the sheets he’d been behaving like a teenager who had only recently discovered the joystick between his legs could be manipulated by a flick of the wrist and a firm grip.
