Predator's Rescue

by Rosanna Leo

  Ryland stared, not saying a word.

  Jani waited, and it killed him not to interfere further. The Alpha Brethren had killed Ryland’s friends and destroyed his lodge. He knew Ryland to be an admirable man, but did the bear shifter really have it in him to forgive and forget? Perhaps it was foolhardy of Jani to assume Ryland would be willing to put Fleur on the payroll, so to speak. He held his breath, sure Fleur’s future depended on this moment and worried he’d made a mess of it.

  Ryland passed a hand over his face. “Chipmunks, huh?”

  Fleur’s face twisted into a half smile, half grimace. “That was a bad example. I understand if you’re looking for something different. Someone different.”

  “No, no, I like chipmunks.” Ryland turned to Jani. “You’ve seen Fleur’s photos?”

  “I have. She’s talented and I’m not just saying it because she’s my…good buddy.”

  Fleur grinned and blushed. God, he loved the pink on her cheeks. She clasped her hands behind her back and waited on Ryland’s decision. Jani noticed how she crossed her fingers. She wanted this.

  It was good to see her want something so badly. Even if Ryland didn’t hire her, she might be motivated to start up her own photography business.

  “Tell you what, Fleur,” Ryland said. “I’d like to hang some outdoorsy shots in the hallway leading out of reception. Could you do about ten photos for me?”

  She sighed, as if she’d been expecting a negative response, but then started. “Wait. Did you say ten photos?”

  Ryland nodded. “If I like the ten, I’ll give you a contract to put photos in every room in the lodge.” He smiled. “You can even throw in a few chipmunks if you want.”

  Her lips moved but no sound emerged. “But…but there are hundreds of rooms in this place. That’s a lot of photos.”

  “And a lucrative contract, if I do say so myself.” Ryland stuck out his hand. “We can talk specifics later. Do we have a deal?”

  Fleur glanced at Jani and smiled. She launched herself at Ryland and wrapped herself around him in a hug. “We have a deal! Thank you.”

  Blushing, Ryland laughed and set her away from him. “You’re welcome.”

  “Ryland,” Fleur said. “You don’t have to do this. It’s enough for me being here with all of you.”

  “Just take the pictures.” Ryland tipped his beer bottle in a salute. “I look forward to seeing them.” The lodge owner nodded and walked over to his wife, slinging an arm around Lia’s shoulders. He whispered something into her ear.

  Lia beamed at him, turned, and offered Fleur a discreet thumbs up.

  Fleur’s lip trembled as she spoke to Jani. “I have a job. A real job.”

  Jani pulled her into an embrace. “It seems you do.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

  Her heart pounded against his chest. It only took him a second to realize his was pounding just as hard as hers. “Yes, I do.”

  She pulled away and chewed on her lip. “Maybe I should have offered to give Ryland the photos for free. You know, as a goodwill gesture.”

  Jani brushed his thumb against her lip to stop her nibbling. “Don’t devalue yourself. I know you’ll work hard to give him good photos and you deserve to be paid for your work.”

  “Ohmigod. I need to find my old camera. I think it’s hidden at the bottom of my closet. At least, I hope it is.”

  “I can help you look. If it’s lost, you can use mine. I brought one from Hungary. You could borrow it for as long as you need.”

  Fleur looked deep into his eyes. “I’m not sure what I’ll do without you, Jani.”

  He almost forgot he hadn’t told her of his intention to stay. Had it been eating her up inside? He looked around the room. Too many people. He wanted to share the news in a quiet place, where they could get naked. “Don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just enjoy the party and toast your future.”

  She snorted. “I don’t even like toast.”

  He curled a hand around her hip, wishing he could drag her into a quiet corner and knead her ass properly. “Come on, pretty wolf. I need another drink.”

  * * * *

  Late that evening, Barbi’s body began experiencing severe withdrawal symptoms. She thought the warring chills and fever had been bad, to say nothing of the hunger she refused to feed. It had gotten bad when Luke began grilling those steaks. The scent of sizzling beef and onions almost drove her out of her mind.

  This new pain, this aching hollowness, drove her to the point of madness. She hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch, other than to relieve herself, but her body ached as if she’d run the Boston Marathon. Her saliva had dried up, or so it seemed, and she couldn’t slake her thirst with the tap water from the bathroom. Her tongue felt thick. Her breath came hard and unevenly. Even her hair follicles seemed to be crying out in agony and she was tempted to claw every hair out of her head.

  To make things worse, her wolf wouldn’t stop pestering her. It loitered at the edge of her being, its head raised in the direction of the kitchen. Sniffing madly, it searched for the burly bear in the other room. Every so often, the wolf whined and chewed at its tail.

  Deranged beast.

  A new perfume emanated from the kitchen, teasing Barbi’s senses once again. She inhaled, hoping to somehow get a taste. She smelled chocolate and bananas and butter. Was Miller baking in there?

  Barbi shut her eyes. The man was sent to tempt her. She needed to be strong, if only to wipe the smile off his mug.

  “Hey, Barbi,” he called, poking his head around the kitchen wall. “You’re not one of those weird people who hates chocolate, are you?” He raised a chocolate-covered beater from an electric mixer to his mouth and licked off the fragrant batter.

  She dragged her gaze from his tongue to his eyes and growled. “I hate you.”

  Still licking the utensil, Luke moseyed toward her, a frown marring his ridiculously-handsome features. “That’s not very nice. I just finished preparing a chocolate banana loaf for you.” He produced another gooey beater from behind his back. He held it out to her. “Want a lick?”

  A drop of chocolate batter fell onto the floor. Barbi had to clench her knees together so she wouldn’t weaken and lick it up. “Fuck off.”

  He shrugged and began to lick the second beater. “This is good stuff. You’re missing out.”

  “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  “Why won’t you accept the truth?”

  “What truth?”

  “You can’t do this alone. You need me. You need what’s left of your family and you have to be stronger than you’ve ever been.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Phil.” She shook her head but it only made her brain throb harder. “You’re evil. You were sent here to tempt me.”

  “I was brought here to help you. Let me help you.”

  “You can’t do a single thing for me and I’m going to stay here on this couch until you let me go. I don’t care if I starve to death. Do you hear me?”

  A look of disappointment flitted across his face but was soon replaced by a tight-lipped determination. “I hear you, but no matter how stubborn you think you are, I’m twice as stubborn. So if you want to go ahead and die on me, feel free. I’ll be sure to tell Fleur her mother gave up when the going got tough.”

  Barbi couldn’t watch as he stormed into the kitchen and began banging pots and cutlery around. When the chills overtook her again, making her shoulders shake, she merely lay down and dragged the blanket up over her head.

  She spent the next half hour or so cursing Luke Miller, wishing his testicles would shrivel and fall off. The activity amused her, but her frigid body temperature distracted her from putting curses on any of his other body parts.

  At some point, she was conscious of another blanket being laid atop her. She peeked out and hated herself for doing so.

  Luke had put an electric blanket over her and h
e turned the little dial to “Hot.” Within seconds, sweet warmth eased her bones and her teeth stopped chattering.

  She fell asleep but wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours. She awoke to a desert-worthy heat, scalding her from within. Her mouth felt hot. Her back was wet with sweat. Even her toes felt alight, as if someone held a flickering candle to them. Before long, the fever began to ravage her mind, making her see visions of Terry’s fists. She flinched and shook on the couch until two strong hands pried the blankets out of her fingers.

  “It’s okay,” Luke said. “I’ve got you.”

  Something cool and wet landed on her forehead. Startled, she moaned but she was too weak to shake it off. She mumbled a few words of objection.

  “It’s just a cold compress to help your fever. Hush.”

  Only the fever didn’t go away. She grew hotter, so hot she began to claw at her clothes. Luke disappeared then and she thought she heard him cursing in the other room. Did he turn on the taps? She swore she heard running water somewhere.

  Putting a hand to her pounding head, she almost didn’t notice when someone picked her up. She opened her eyes. Luke’s face swam before her but the features were all wrong. His chin was on his forehead and his eyes were where his mouth should have been. Barbi opened her mouth to scream but he shushed her.

  “You’re safe. I’m just going to put you in a tub of cold water.”

  He was going to drown her? She knew he was up to no good. Writhing in his grip, she tried to free herself.

  “Barbi, I promise I won’t hurt you. There are crazy thoughts running through your head right now, but I need you to be strong and deal with them so I can lower your temperature.”

  Oh, God. She was going to die here, she knew it. She issued another silent scream, but all of a sudden, the most wonderful coolness seeped through her clothes and enveloped her. He’d put her in the water fully clothed. For some reason, the thought struck her as incredibly funny but she couldn’t seem to force a laugh out of her throat. She stared ahead, wishing the ordeal would end. The brightness of the bathroom tiles hurt her eyes after a few seconds, so she closed them. Lulled by the strangely-cozy chill from the water, she let her head fall to her chest.

  Even though her eyes were shut, she knew Luke kneeled next to her. His heart pounded and she heard every throb. He supported her in the bath and held another cold cloth to her brow.

  This time when the darkness threatened, she succumbed, falling into a deep sleep.

  When she awoke, she found herself in clean, dry clothes. They must have been Luke’s because the sweats were far too big. She didn’t care. They felt good. He’d put her in his bed. At least, she assumed it to be his. It certainly smelled like him, a tantalizing blend of Irish Spring with a hint of chocolate.

  He’d taken care of her as no one ever had. He’d also clearly seen her naked, unless he’d brought in a team of women to pry the wet clothes off her dead weight. Had he seen her stretchmarks? She’d always thought it unfair shape-shifters were immune to most human maladies and flaws but they still accumulated stretch marks during the birthing process. Had he glimpsed the scar on her arm, the one Terry had given her ten years ago? Her husband had been drunk and had thought her hot curling iron would make a good disciplinary tool.

  Barbi didn’t allow herself to consider the implications of Luke seeing her nudity. He’d obviously done what he needed to do in order to help her and if she had any humanity left in her soul, she ought to be grateful.

  The bedsprings creaked as she sat up, and her head spun. Luke sat next to her and put an arm around her.

  “Whoa,” she croaked. “Where did you come from?”

  He brushed a hair out of her eyes. “I’ve been here the whole time. Your fever’s broken but it was touch and go for a while.”

  “Luke, I…”

  “Shh. You don’t have to talk. Just rest.”

  “I feel gross.”

  “I know.”

  “You really have done this before, haven’t you?”

  “Too many times.”

  “Will you stay with me?”

  His smile filled her with a sense of hope unlike anything she’d ever known. “You bet.”

  She leaned against him and he laid her back down on the pillow. Comforted, she closed her eyes. Sleep teased her, dancing at the edges of her consciousness, but she opened her eyes again. Something needed to be said, something important, but she couldn’t remember what it was. It might have something to do with bananas. “Luke?”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe later I could have some of that loaf?”

  “Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you.”

  As Barbi drifted into a deep sleep, it occurred to her she had heard the same words tumble out of many men’s mouths. This was the first time she was tempted to believe them.

  Chapter 9

  “I have to admit the baby shower wasn’t too painful.” Sitting in Jani’s borrowed pickup truck, Fleur examined the party favor Charlotte and Bart had given her in thanks. She’d felt guilty taking it, considering her gift had really come from Jani. He’d done well for a man too, buying the little guy some blue sleepers and matching socks.

  He was a good man, her Jani.

  Yours? Crane taunted. Oh, puh-lease.

  Fleur ignored the voice in her head and returned to examining the party favor. Charlotte had called it Murano glass, whatever the hell that was. Fleur had thought it was a large shot glass, but Charlotte called it a bud vase. Dainty and slim, it was apparently built to hold a single flower. With a streak of blue through the glass, it was probably the prettiest thing Fleur had ever owned.

  She didn’t tend to display bouquets of flowers in her home and had certainly never considered calling attention to a single bloom. Of course, no one had ever given her flowers.

  She’d probably still drink shots of tequila out of it.

  “I’m proud of you,” said Jani, parking the truck in her apartment parking lot. “I know it couldn’t have been easy to surround yourself with all those people from the resort.”

  “I had my nervous moments. It was easier with you there.”

  He pulled the keys out of the ignition and turned to her. He reached a hand behind her neck and pulled her close for a soft kiss. As her body rioted in sensation, he deepened the kiss. From somewhere far away, Fleur heard a hungry growl.

  Jani’s tiger. The creature felt so close now. Since sleeping with him, it seemed the tiger lingered at her shoulder, always watching.

  She loved it, loved feeling desired and special. Most of all, Fleur liked the deep timbre of its need and seeing how it manifested in Jani’s body. Even now, a mere kiss hardened him. Curious, she cupped him, stroking his length through his pants. His cock, already so stiff, lengthened under her touch.

  Jani ended their kiss and groaned, putting his head back on the headrest. He closed his eyes and murmured words she didn’t understand. She supposed Hungarian was comprised of many types of words, but everything he uttered sounded filthy. She liked that and made a mental note to learn the language one day.

  Each guttural expletive only served to heighten her inquisitiveness. How hot could she make him? Could she drive Jani right out of his mind? Determined to do so, Fleur tugged on his zipper.

  Jani stopped her, a gentle hand at the back of her head. “I’m supposed to be helping you look for your camera.”

  “But I want you now. The camera can wait.”

  “Let’s at least get inside your apartment, mindenem. You don’t want to break your bud vase.”

  She’d almost forgotten the delicate ornament. Clutching it in her other hand, she might have broken it. “I can put it in the glove box.”

  “Yes, you can, but what I want to do to you shouldn’t be done in a pickup truck in the middle of a parking lot.”

  “Oh? And what is it you want to do to me?”

  “Anything and everything.” He leaned in and captured h
er earlobe between his teeth. His hot breath caressed her neck. “And I plan to do it for a long time.”

  She liked his plan. Smiling, she exited the truck, holding the bud vase close to her chest. Jani was right behind her, no doubt to hide the fact he was still hard as a rock. They entered the building, snatching kisses in the hallway.

  As they approached her unit, the surrealism of the situation occurred to her. The last time they were there, he’d groused about her living conditions. Would it bother him to get naked in her low-rent apartment? She could only imagine what his home looked like. He could likely eat off the floors.

  Jani nipped her on the back of her neck, apparently unconcerned about her living arrangements. Delightful chills trickled along her spine.

  At least she’d washed her sheets recently.

  Dismissing all thoughts of inadequacy, she reached into her small drawstring backpack for her keys.

  Wait. Her wolf put its ears back.

  Something was wrong.

  It seemed Jani’s tiger alerted him to danger as well. He moved in front of her and put a finger over his lips to caution her to be silent. Moving with the silent grace of the deadliest predator, Jani put a hand to her door and tried the knob. It opened.

  Fleur knew she’d locked it last time she was there.

  Jani’s nostrils flared and he breathed in. She did at the same time and didn’t sense any unwelcome visitors, but their scents still lingered in the air.

  “Whoever was here isn’t here now,” he said. “Does anyone else have a key to your place?”

  She shook her head.

  He led the way into the unit. Even though she hated her dingy abode, Fleur couldn’t help but experience a sense of violation when she saw the state of it. Someone had trashed the apartment. The furniture was upturned. Condiments from her fridge had been splashed on the walls. Her garage sale end tables had been smashed. The fabric on her couch had been torn and the stuffing hung out.

  The entire space reeked of pissed off shape-shifter. She’d always thought each subspecies smelled different. Her fellow wolves all seemed to carry a woodsy sweetness, a hint of dried leaves and wild herbs. Tigers like Jani smelled like tall grasses. Bears, on the other hand, always smelled of food to her. Like oatmeal and vanilla. At least, that was her interpretation. Somehow, those scents intensified and soured when a shifter got mad. Her entire apartment smelled like shape-shifter fury, an odor akin to that of rotten vegetables.