by Aline Hunter
“You’re like a drug,” he murmured into her ear before nipping the lobe. “So damned addictive that no matter what I do I can’t get enough.”
“It’s your fault, not mine.” Frowning at the stark mark on his tanned skin, she asked, “What have you done to me?”
The question got an immediate, jolting reaction. Diskant froze, his chest going still as he held his breath. Suddenly the muscles against her weren’t yielding but as hard as stone, the weight keeping her trapped against the wall becoming ten times heavier.
After a tense moment, he said, “We need to talk,” withdrew from her body, and placed her on unsteady feet. The loss of his presence was more than physical. It was as if he’d blocked off another part of himself as well.
Confused and embarrassed, she’d bent down to retrieve her things when he asked, “How do you know about shifters?”
After everything that had transpired she wasn’t sure what she’d expected but it certainly wasn’t this. Anger came then, glorious and ball-breaking in its intensity.
“After everything that’s happened, don’t you think I should be the one asking the questions?”
He lifted his head, fingers motionless over the fastenings of his leathers. It dawned on her then that they were both half clothed inside a bar that catered to shifters, having had explosive sex where everyone could not only hear them, but could probably smell them as well. Not to mention she still had no idea what in the hell was going on, and Diskant seemed to constantly be directing her thoughts to pleasurable pursuits that distracted her from thinking about anything else.
“There is a room full of shifters out there waiting for an answer to that question,” he finally said. “I need to know what to tell them.”
“Well, isn’t that sweet? Looking out for your fellow furry friends,” she replied in a cool, jaded tone. “If only the rest of us were given the same courtesy.”
“Damn it, Ava,” he growled and readjusted his shirt. “There isn’t time for this.”
She separated her panties from the jeans and pulled them on, well aware of the wetness dripping from her sex as a result of his seed and her release. She went still for a moment, struck dumb by a thought that both frightened and excited her. For the first time, she considered something she should have thought of from the start, especially when you weighed the nature of their relationship thus far.
Could a human and shifter procreate? Was it possible to get pregnant? She’d always wanted children, had hoped that one day she’d have three or four of her own. Was it possible to have a family with someone like Diskant?
Like everything else, the notion was placed to the side. A complication that her overly stimulated body and mind stored away for another, more fucked-up time.
Furious with herself for being concerned about things she couldn’t change after the fact, she quipped, “But there is always time to fuck, right?
The breath caught in her throat and she gasped when he crossed the distance, grabbed her by the arms and held her against the wall. The barrier erected between them was obliterated and she was aware of several things, but it was one—and only one—thing she perceived that both terrified and exhilarated her.
She was aware of Diskant for the first time.
Even though he had her pinned against the wall, it was concern—not contempt—that had caused him to place physical, emotional and mental distance between them.
He was scared for her, worried he had pushed her too far.
He knew it was too soon to give her the second mark, but god help him, the moment he’d felt her teeth against his throat he had never wanted anything more and he hadn’t wanted to stop her from tasting his blood. The moment she reminded him of what he’d done—staring at him with her enormous blue eyes full of confusion and hurt—guilt had hit like a freight train.
He wanted to reassure her, to take her somewhere they could be alone and talk. But damn it to hell, he had to meet Trey and Emory to find out what the fuck was going on. Some serious shit was going down and he didn’t want his mate anywhere near it.
His mate.
Ava mine.
Each thought was crystal clear, as crisp and detailed as if he’d spoken aloud.
Jesus Christ and shit.
She could read him.
Diskant fought an inner war with himself, desperate to ease his mate yet forced to see to those waiting for him just outside. Never had he regretted his status as Omega or wished to be just another shifter in the big wide fucking world. It was a tremendous responsibility he always respected and honored. Obligation, however, was a bitch of a mistress when you had to put others before yourself and the needs of your mate.
The moment they’d entered Dougan’s, he’d known the pack understood his need for privacy. Newly bonded pairs were always unstable at the beginning, their desires uncontrollable at best. That understanding, unfortunately, would only last so long. Already he could sense their unease, their impatience. Shifters weren’t telepathic by nature but they could communicate through shared mental images and feelings. He could perceive the worries of the pack mates outside. They were uncertain and edgy. The one who had the power to bring all of the shifter races together was newly mated, making him unstable and unhinged when they needed him most.
Ava gasped and her sapphire blue eyes went wide. He felt her tremble in his grasp, her full lower lip quivering. Concern for her overrode the need to protect those who turned to him for guidance. She was the most important thing in his life now. Without her, he wasn’t complete.
To hell with it. He would make fucking time.
“Pinkie, what’s wrong?”
She jerked as if roused from a sound slumber and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Then she smiled, bestowing the most cock-rocking grin he’d ever seen, and leaned forward to brush her lips against his. This kiss was more intentional than the rest, as if she were offering him a different part of herself. He softened his grip and leaned into her. Her lips parted and their tongues tangoed, back and forth, side to side. The tenderness of the movements was not lost on him, nor was the way she pressed against him like a trusting, sultry armful of woman.
He lifted away and peered into her flushed face. She was beautiful like this—lips swollen, cheeks flushed. As he moved away and gave her room he braced for the previous anger he’d been given a dose of and watched in shock as she retrieved the rest of her clothes and began slipping them on without another word.
“I know you have a lot of questions,” he said, gauging her reaction.
She nodded as she buttoned her jeans and bent to pick up her boots. “I found out about shifters because you were the only people I couldn’t read. As a child I thought you were special like me. When I got older I realized there was a lot more to it.”
“Are you a member of the Villati?” The question was direct, no frilly cushion or chocolate-covered coating.
“No.” At his disbelieving frown, she added, “They’ve approached me, which is baffling since I haven’t told anyone what I can do. I can only assume they have some supersecret way to keep tabs on everyone who isn’t considered normal. I told them to piss off and they have.”
“Is there anything you want to ask me?”
He smoothed his shirt but didn’t bother with the stretched collar or his jacket. Even though everyone in a given proximity was already aware, he wanted everyone to see her mark of claim for as long as it lingered on his skin. He wanted to savor the gift she’d given, show the entire fucking world she’d staked possession just as clearly as he had.
“No,” she answered and slid into her sneakers.
“No?” he repeated, sure his ears were deceiving him.
“No,” she told him firmly and adjusted her clothes. “You said we don’t have time for this, so why don’t you take care of what you need to and we can discuss this after.”
“Are you all right?” He studied her, watching for any indication the second mark hadn’t done something extra.
&
nbsp; “I’m as right as rain.” She actually fucking smiled at him. “Are you?”
Christ. She was as mellow now as she had been pissed before. Nothing made sense, but then, that had been his life the last few weeks.
She crossed the room, running her fingers through her hair. The blonde and pink strands remained upright in several places while the rest fell in jagged pieces along her forehead. Standing directly in front of him, she slowly looked up and placed her hands against his chest. If intended to ease him, the contact had the exact opposite result. His cock swelled once more, fully armed and loaded.
“We’d better go.” His words turned into a groan as her hands descended until her palms rested on his abdomen.
“Okay,” she murmured seductively and rose on her toes to press a kiss to his throat. His entire body shuddered at the touch of her lips, muscles going taut.
“If you don’t watch it, I’m going to rip those clothes back off, put you facedown on the desk and make them wait even longer.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Just wait until I really get you alone.”
She pulled away but the smile remained. “Shall we?”
For a moment he allowed that newfound connection between them to expand. Emotions between mated pairs were enhanced when angry, excited or frightened, meaning it wasn’t as easy to hide them unless you made a conscious effort to. Right now her calm and playful demeanor echoed her mood. In fact, from what he could feel, she was downright amused.
Shaking his head, he took her hand, turned and unlocked the door. After glancing at the bag just inside the office, he decided it would be safe enough until they came back for it.
The noise hit first. The big screen television was blasting some sports event while the sound of glasses being stacked and sorted echoed from the bar. They walked down the hall and the voices went quiet.
Diskant guided her through the tables slowly, wanting everyone to see his mate and appreciate what a lucky bastard he was. They all recognized Ava as his other half and could smell his mating scent all over them. Several of the shifters lowered their eyes and turned their heads to reveal their throats—a display of respect and deference—while a few turned away, obviously unhappy with the fact he’d mated with a human.
As he’d expected, Trey, Nathan and Emory were seated in the booth at the far wall. The stark amber glow in their matching irises warned him they were still juiced from whatever they’d discovered at the warehouse. All of them looked like they’d been on a bender, with thick stubble lining their lower jaw and chins, but Emory looked the worst.
Diskant assessed the Alpha, noting that his once-long hair was now cut short, the ink-black strands now curving along his head and ears. He seemed harder somehow—not a good sign. When he’d left New York after he and Trey had nearly torn each other apart, Emory’d had the temperament, and the short fuse, of a fucking pit bull. Diskant couldn’t recall a time he’d seen the Alpha this unkempt and ragged, with rumpled clothing and a wild, untrusting gleam in his eyes.
Not since the night Trey almost killed him.
Stopping at the empty, left-hand side of the table, Diskant bent down to whisper into Ava’s ear, “In you go,” and waited until she complied before he followed suit. As soon as his ass hit the seat, she slid up against him, her hip in solid contact with his, and placed her hand on his thigh. A ball of white-hot, undeniable sexual need shot from his stomach to his groin, causing the muscles beneath her palm to tighten, the skin just around her fingers suddenly sensitive and heated.
Christ, her touch and nearness felt just right.
He settled back and draped his arm over her shoulders, his hand feathering across the rise of her breast. Her breath hitched but she didn’t budge, although he did feel her tremble. He tried to stem the flow of arousal, although he thrilled in the fact she could feel it equally as much.
“I called for a meeting of all the Alphas in the area,” Trey said. “Since we don’t have long before everyone arrives, I’m going to put this shit in the open. We found the missing shifters.” Trey’s low grumble was laced with outrage. “All of them were dead. Shot through the heart with silver bullets. But that’s not the worst part.” Trey’s gaze briefly flitted to Ava and she tensed, fingers clutching Diskant’s leathers as if she knew what Trey was going to say. “They were skinned, and judging by the amount of blood on the scene, they were alive when the sick bastards did it.”
“Why do you think that is?” Diskant leveled a stare at Emory, daring him to turn away as he asked, “What could possibly possess Shepherds to wage war on an area with the largest shifter population in the Northeastern portion of the United States?”
Trey looked at Diskant then turned to Emory, his face shifting from livid to confused as he comprehended something was extremely wrong.
“What have you done, Emory?” Trey’s voice reflected his wariness and distrust. Already the gloves were off. Trey and Emory had never gotten along following Emory’s maturation into an Alpha, parted by differences in ages and the ingrained predisposition to dominate.
“It isn’t what you think,” Emory growled, immediately on the defensive.
“What. The fuck. Did you do?” Each snarled word from Trey was brisk and clear.
A brief but notable amount of apprehension appeared on Emory’s face before his thick brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together. Whatever the problem was, he didn’t want to discuss it.
“They came to my mate’s apartment looking for you.” Although Diskant made sure his tone was cool, his anger was unmistakable.
Emory’s focus darted over, his eyes resting on Ava. His heavily shadowed jaw began to tic. Diskant imagined his hands were forming into fists.
“They drew on us,” Diskant continued, studying Emory intently. “In plain sight. Whatever you’ve done, they’re not going to forget it or move on. You’ve got a bulls-eye on your back and I’m sure there’s a price on your head. You can’t expect others to suffer as a consequence. You’re going to have to balls up.”
Emory tore his gaze from Ava and glared at the table. He was breathing hard, chest heaving. Nathan placed a firm hand on his arm and Diskant knew the Beta was filtering some of his anger by taking it into himself. After several seconds, the gleam in Emory’s eyes lessened. Nathan let him go and sagged into the leather-cushioned seat, panting as his clenched fists resting atop the table tightened and loosed spastically.
“After I left I decided to go to Colorado,” Emory said quietly, voice shaky. “It was a nice change of scenery and a decent place to go it alone. I was there a couple of months before I met the most amazing female. She was smart, she was beautiful, and as you’ve probably guessed, she was mine. I couldn’t believe the dumb fucking luck of it all. I left home and found my one true calling. Then I found out her name.” Emory looked up and stared Diskant in the eye. “Mary Shepherd.”
Everyone at the table went quiet and eerily still and it was immediately mirrored by the pack members in the bar. Diskant turned from Emory, narrowing his eyes and gazing about the room. They’d all heard what Emory said but by adding to the tension they were making shit much, much worse.
This was not good news.
After a moment the noise level increased and the pack returned to business as usual, although in a much more muted fashion. Diskant returned his attention the table, noting the strain on everyone’s faces.
“You’re mated to a Shepherd?” Trey sounded as sick as Diskant felt.
Emory’s nod was jerky, his voice gruff. “I tried to stay away from her. She’s too young and both the man and the wolf recognized that, but it was too difficult to deny the pull. After a couple of weeks I started visiting her college, watching her from a distance. When I finally approached her I realized she had no fucking clue what I was. I found out why when we sat down for a cup of coffee and I learned her parents had died when she was fifteen and she’d moved to live with her aunt and uncle in Colorado.”
“Separatists?” Diska
nt asked, curious and intrigued.
“From what she shared with me, I would imagine so. I couldn’t exactly ask her about it since she isn’t aware any of our kind exist.”
“How did they find out about you?” Trey was still shell-shocked; it showed in his expression and his somber tone.
“Since I couldn’t exactly knock on her door and introduce myself, I made sure that we always met somewhere in the city. Her uncle got suspicious after we exchanged phone calls and decided to follow her. He was waiting to meet us after we shared a meal and were about to hit the movies, and he had a fucking troop of his kin with him.”
Emory hesitated, swallowing loudly.
“I tried not to shift but when he lunged for Mary it was impossible to control all the changes. They were endangering my mate and the wolf surfaced.” His voice became a heavy snarl. “I couldn’t stop them from taking her, not when they told her what I was and she ran as fast as she possibly could in the opposite direction. It was hard enough staying alive when they were firing silver buckshot at my ass.”
“Did you mark her?” Diskant knew he was asking a difficult question. All things considered, he highly doubted Emory had taken it that far. If he had, there was no way he would have allowed Mary to flee.
“No,” Emory answered, confirming Diskant’s suspicion. “There was never any chance to. The night we were discovered was the first night we were alone.” He lowered his head into his hands. “I shouldn’t have come here. Hell, I didn’t for several weeks. You have no idea how hard it’s been, to know my mate exists but not be able to claim her. That’s why I came back. If I don’t do something soon, I’ll return for her even if it kills me.”
Trey slammed his fist on the table, growling. “How long ago did this happen?”
“Five weeks.” Emory lifted his head. The anguish in his voice was mirrored in his posture.
