by Zoe Winters
Her arousal perfumed the air, smelling better than anything else the restaurant had to offer. If she kept smelling that way, he was going to take her right here in the middle of Mama Bella’s. Something Jane probably wouldn’t be in favor of. Nor would it do anything to build trust between them after he’d said he didn’t expect anything from her.
***
Jane’s breath hitched in her throat, and her stomach tightened as Cole's thumb caressed her hand. God, what was it with her and having her hands touched all of a sudden? Couldn’t she pick a normal erogenous zone? Maybe the vampires had sullied all the good ones for her. She blushed and finally jerked her hand from his.
The waitress interrupted with bread and salads.
“I’m sorry,” he said when the girl had moved on to another table.
“It’s okay.” Jane stared at the pile of lettuce, avoiding his eyes as she ate.
“Can I ask you something?”
“All right.” She was still looking at her plate, trying to eat as slowly as possible so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.
“I don’t know how to say this.”
“Just say it.”
This was going to be the part where he said she was a perfectly lovely girl, but his heart belonged to another. She could handle it. She barely knew him. So he was hot and didn’t look like a demon. So he was warm. If she could stop mingling with the undead for five minutes, she’d find most men fit that description. She sat in her seat, her back perfectly straight as she waited for the rejection.
He sighed, a deep, put-upon sound. “I’m really trying here, Jane. I just don’t understand.”
“Don’t understand what?” She found herself looking up at him despite her resolve not to.
He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “I can smell your reaction to me, and I realize we’ve just met . . . I don’t normally react to people this way, but is there a chance at some point for something between us?”
Jane blinked. “Huh? I thought you were with Rhonda.” While she’d convinced herself maybe Rhonda had overplayed the whole soul-mates-since-childhood thing, it didn’t mean there wasn’t something between them now, a concept she’d tortured herself with earlier in the evening while she’d waited to rinse out the hair dye.
“What gave you that idea?”
“Rhonda.”
Cole’s nostrils flared. “Rhonda and I aren’t together, and we aren’t going to be together. And you and I shouldn’t be together. It’s just hard not to touch you. I know with the things you’ve been through, I shouldn’t think in that direction.”
Jane nodded. No, he really shouldn’t. She should have space, time to be free. But how free was she locked away in his den? Was he ever going to let her go? She shouldn’t be attracted to him or want something with him, but every time he touched her, she felt normal again.
She chanced a look into his eyes. “Just give me some time, okay?”
The conversation turned with some difficulty to the normal boring date chit chat of books and movies. He told her about his love of painting and said he’d show her his work sometime if she was interested.
By the end of the night, the pretense of two normal people out on a date fell away as they found themselves alone in the den. Jane’s eyes shifted between the bedroom door and the couch, wondering what the sleeping arrangements were going to be.
Before she had the chance to awkwardly phrase her question, Cole spoke. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
It was obvious he didn’t want to.
“I’m smaller than you, maybe I should sleep on the couch,” she said.
“I wouldn’t feel right about that.”
It was eleven and neither of them was tired, so they watched TV. It was so easy to snuggle against him, to feel his warm hand stroking her arm.
She’d reacted to vampires and being bitten, but no one had had this effect on her from such relatively innocent contact. Before she knew what had happened, she’d nodded off on his chest.
She woke a few hours later in bed, only Cole wasn’t beside her. She had the momentary anxiety he’d gone hunting and left her locked in the den alone again. She edged out of bed and was surprised to find an easel and paints set up in the living room.
Jane moved behind Cole to see what had so transfixed him. The image coming to life on the canvas depicted a large black wolf attacking a woman tied to a chair, helpless to defend herself. The wolf tore into her, ripping her apart.
The woman was Jane.
She put her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream she feared would flow out otherwise. She backed away, bumping into the coffee table and causing him to fall out of his trance.
“Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?”
“Yes, but I don’t think I’m dreaming.” She couldn’t look away from the gruesome image. “Why would you paint something like that? Is that what you want to do to me?”
His eyes widened. “Of course not.” He moved closer to her, and she backed up another step, her initial fear of him returning.
He wisely chose to stop his advance. “I have visions. Sometimes when I paint them, it allows me to concentrate better and see and remember more clearly what happens. I was hoping to get more information to prevent this, but it’s not helping this time.”
She wanted to believe him. “Who is the wolf?” There. She’d managed to say it without her voice shaking.
“I’m not sure. There are five solid black wolves in the pack.”
“Are you one of them?”
He placed the brush on the easel. “Jane . . . ”
She backed away, her hands out in the universal sign of don’t come any closer. “Are you one of them?”
His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “Yes. And there’s something else I have to tell you.”
She waited for whatever could be of larger import than Cole painting violent pictures of her, but he put the caps on the tubes of paint and took the brushes to the kitchen sink to clean them. She followed. Finally he turned, leaning against the counter.
“Cain told me there is a human-hunter in my pack, but he wouldn’t give me a name.”
“Then how do you know he’s telling the truth?”
“He doesn’t lie except by omission; the truth amuses him too much. And I found evidence of a fresh kill.”
“How long have you known this?”
“Since last night.”
“And you sent me out with Rhonda today? How did you know it wasn’t her? Is that why you gave me the knife?”
“I don’t believe she’d do something like that. I knew even if it was her, she wouldn’t risk it. And I was right. It’s not her. She’s a white wolf, and the wolf in the vision was black.”
Jane knew he must smell her fear. She wanted to believe he wouldn’t harm her and that he could control the beast inside him, but the image of being torn to shreds by a wolf that might be Cole . . .
“You have to let me go. It’s not safe for me to be with you.”
“I can’t.”
“Cole, please.”
He shook his head and pointed at the painting. “It doesn’t happen here.” The image looked like an old abandoned church, but that didn’t put her mind at ease. “And I know it doesn’t happen for awhile. I’ll figure out who it is. It’s not me. I wouldn’t . . . ”
“Why can’t you just let me go?” She hadn’t lately felt like a captive because he hadn’t treated her like one. But the reminders of her state of imprisonment were all around her. She was locked in the den with a dangerous wolf, trapped behind steel doors with a key code she didn’t know.
Cole went back to the living area and sank down on the couch, his head in his hands. When Jane came to stand in front of him, he looked up.
“I don’t know what the hell is happening to me. I’ve never felt this way before. When a wolf finds his mate, almost always he knows immediately. It’s how I knew Rhonda wasn’t it. Sure, we could give the mating mark to a wolf we choose after a long
courtship, or through an arranged mating. But it’s not the same. It’s not like having a true mate.”
He stood again, growing more restless and agitated the longer he spoke. “I’ve never felt that, so I don’t know what it feels like. But that night I was watching through the curtains, and the moment I saw Paul throw you across the room, the only thought on my mind was protecting you and getting you out of there. Wolves are very possessive. The man in me says to let you go . . . find some way to help you so you don’t get sucked back in with the vampires, but I can’t make myself do it.”
He laid a hand against her cheek. “I’ll never force you to do anything against your will, but I have to have you here with me. This isn’t supposed to happen with humans. I think it might be the vampire blood in your veins.”
She’d felt the pull toward him as well. She’d been afraid there was something terribly wrong with her, to react so sexually to monsters. But it still didn’t make sense.
“What does vampire blood have to do with it?”
“Ever wonder why the wolves are such a big threat to the vampires?”
Jane hadn’t stopped to consider it. The political alliances of the various preternaturals hadn’t exactly been on her radar when she was busy trying not to die.
“Have you ever wondered why silver affects both wolves and vampires? Or why the incubus and the vampire’s feeding needs are so strangely similar? For an incubus it’s about sex. For a vampire it’s about blood, but it’s still mostly sexual. Vampires are a bastard race created originally from the joining of an incubus with a werewolf. So that vampire blood running through your veins . . . it’s part wolf. Maybe it was enough, and that’s why I feel this with you.”
She’d seen humans turned before but had never known the origin of their species. “What does this mean?”
“It means I can’t let anything happen to you, and I can’t let you leave. I think you may be mine. And some day I believe you’ll be happy about that.”
Jane wanted to tell him she was happy about it already. She could feel her body humming over just the idea of the two of them as a couple. But it was too soon, and he didn’t seem one hundred percent sure she was actually his. If she slept with him and his true mate was someone else, she’d never recover from the loss.
Chapter Nine
Cole paced inside Cain’s colorful bachelor tent, jumping when the demon’s hand bumped his shoulder. At the collision, a bit of brandy sloshed over the rim of the glass the incubus held out to him.
“Sit down and have a drink,” Cain said.
Cole took the snifter and shot a glare at him before tossing the alcohol back and letting it burn a line straight to his stomach. He’d been in the tent for the past five hours. During that time, the demon had disappeared twice to entertain himself with women brought over from the human world.
A third woman now lay on the sofa with a drink of her own. Some fruity girlie concoction Cain seemed to be a wizard at whipping up. Quite the ladies man if you were into serial killers.
“Must be nice having takeout delivered,” Cole said bitterly.
The demon chuckled. “Not the normal way of things, but I’m helping you today. Stop being so sour.” He moved to the couch, raised the woman’s legs to sit, and draped them over his lap. She giggled when his finger trailed up the inside of her thigh.
“How much longer is this going to take?” Cole said.
“These things take time. You can’t blow in and ask for that many portal charms and expect it to be done instantly. This isn’t fast food.
“Each has to be forged by demons and then incanted over and all that evil crap. You think we just pick them up at Best Buy? I said you could come back when they were ready, but you insisted on waiting.” He let out a dramatic sigh.
Cole just growled. He didn’t want to leave Jane twice for this. He couldn’t bring himself to lock her up in his den, not with the claustrophobia, so he’d left her in the hive with the pack. He thought she’d be safe, but every minute that ticked by made him more anxious.
Finally, when Cain and the tart in his lap had forgotten Cole’s presence and were on the brink of moving past foreplay, another demon entered the tent carrying a gilded box. The girl startled in Cain’s lap at the sight of him. He looked like a demon, all muscles and horns and red-scaled skin.
“Sir, I have the portal charms.”
“Put them on the table and leave us,” Cain said with a flourish of his arm.
The demon obeyed the order, then silently retreated from the tent.
Cole moved toward the box, but Cain’s voice stopped him. “I have every confidence you’ll repay this kindness when I need your help for something.”
The wolf grimaced. He’d made a quite literal devil’s bargain to secure the safety of his pack. “You have my word.”
“Good. Say hello to Jane for me.”
A low growl rumbled in Cole’s chest.
“Ha! I knew it. I knew I smelled something between you two.” Cain smirked as if he’d won a betting pool on the matter.
Cole collected the box from the table and left without another word. He passed through the portal into the woods outside the hive. He’d patrolled the area before crossing into the demon dimension and thought it wise to check things out once more.
As he made his way through the forest, the sweet scent of human blood assaulted his senses. In his human form he was revolted, knowing in this area of the forest it was likely a werewolf kill. The killer was getting sloppy, taunting the alpha with how clever he was.
The wolf part of him salivated at the heady scent, and he had to fight the urge to shift into his animal form to scavenge over the remains. He took a few steadying breaths. When he was sure the beast was under control, he hid the golden box under a pile of leaves and broke into a run.
As he drew nearer he could smell the crisp scent of lilacs, possibly a shampoo or body lotion, then the copper smell of blood, and something else . . . something he knew. He fought back his mind’s desire to give the thought form.
When he reached the body he doubled over, his head swamped with dizziness. No. It wasn’t possible. But the scent was unmistakable . . . and the warm honey-colored hair.
Jane.
His stomach heaved, and he threw up. He crawled to her prone form, praying for a miracle to let it not be true. Entrails spilled from a gash in her stomach, and he fought back another wave of nausea. He shouldn’t have left her.
When he rolled the body over, he let out a long shuddering breath.
Not Jane.
The woman in his arms had similar features and build and the same hair. But it wasn’t her. He realized she smelled like Jane because she was wearing the jeans and sweater he’d borrowed on her first day in the hive.
Now that the panic was receding he could smell the woman’s true scent underneath the clothing. The sweater had been ripped apart down the center, and on closer inspection, he could see that the torn fibers were embedded in her flesh. She’d been made to put the outfit on before she’d been killed.
Cole growled with disgust, rage seething beneath the surface. The clothing had been supplied by Ed’s mate.
***
“Read ’em and weep.” Jane laid down a full house.
Blake looked like she’d kicked his puppy.
“Oh man, I think he’s going to,” Mara said.
“You now owe me three hundred dollars,” Jane said, triumphantly. She was about halfway to paying Cole back for her wardrobe.
Blake had fronted her a few chips to start her off, and she was kicking their asses. Living with vampires had given her a great poker face. After all, she’d pretended to be a vampire groupie fairly convincingly for nearly a decade, so convincingly even she had almost believed it. At least from a fashion standpoint.
She looked up to see Cole shaking his head. “Maybe you should have played me instead of Paul,” he said. He was smiling but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Probably so. Paul sucked at
poker. Maybe he hadn’t been a vampire long enough to be a good gambler. He was still a fledge and not old enough to have developed that stony stillness a vampire got to his features after a few hundred years.
Over the past couple of weeks she’d casually socialized with all the wolves. She’d been surprised by how nice most of them were. This wasn’t the picture she’d expected when she’d thought of what the wolf pack did in their spare time.
Of course, Cole had reminded her she was a friend of the pack, given that role by the alpha himself. It probably made a difference in how they behaved around her. But knowing Charlee and being with Paul hadn’t given her any special status with the vampires or caused them to be any nicer to her.
Cole had remained true to his word and hadn’t pushed her. He’d stayed on the couch, though it was a pointless exercise. By the end of each night he always ended up in the bed with her. His presence soothed her. When he wasn’t holding her, she had the dreams, waking up screaming, gasping for breath, to find herself in the den. Not the coffin.
Blake threw his cards on the table. “That’s it. I’m out, chickadee. You’re killin’ me here.”
Jane grinned at him and raked the chips toward herself. “I’d like to cash them in now.”
Blake laughed. “You would. Cole, this girl is dangerous to the pack’s finances.”
Jane expected Cole to laugh, but all he did was stare at her with such intensity she felt compelled to look away. She pocketed the money and went to the kitchen, uncomfortable with the strange mood that had emanated from him since he’d gotten back.
“Oh. Hi,” she said when she saw Rhonda with her head poked in the fridge.
After the first day shopping, the wolf had been standoffish. Jane could understand why. She’d been after Cole since before puberty, and Jane had just waltzed in and taken his attention in less than a day. She knew that feeling. She’d been there with Greg, not understanding why he didn’t want something more. But it wasn’t like she could give the other woman a pep talk about it, so she’d kept her distance.
