Claws and Fangs

by Laurann Dohner

  Chase suddenly stepped back and his arms were gone, leaving her feeling cold and sexually frustrated.

  “I’ve seen enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll take it. Let’s get back to your office and draw up an offer.” He was brusque after that.

  The next day, Chase agreed to the seller’s first counteroffer. The paperwork was finalized for the sale and he refused to allow her to take him to dinner to celebrate his purchase. It hurt. The warmth and friendliness was gone. He was cold and withdrawn once their business had been concluded.

  The attraction was so powerful that it was almost unsettling. She couldn’t stop wishing he’d call and ask to see her again.

  It hadn’t ever happened. That had been the last time she’d seen Mr. Woods, but his memory lingered in her dreams. It explained why her imagination would bring him into her nightmare.

  His voice drew her out of her memories and back into the hellish basement...

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Hurry up,” he demanded. “I don’t want to be here all night.”

  That sexy voice was one she’d never forget. It still made the feminine parts of her respond. It was whiskey and honey, husky but full of strength. A bitter laugh threatened to burst forth. She was dying, and her mind had decided to create more fantasies that included him. It beat fixating on the horrific way her life would end.

  The slats in the door were wide enough to watch him cross the room to retrieve a shovel. She reached out to touch the rough wood, wishing she could get closer. The chain jerked her in place when the length, shackled to her wrist, pulled taut. The cuts, caused by her struggles to wiggle free, hurt enough to make her whimper.

  Mr. Woods suddenly spun to face her. She couldn’t see his face in the shadows but his eyes seemed to glow blue—and he was looking right at her. He dropped the shovel and headed toward the wall.

  She froze in place, barely breathing as he crouched on the other side of the door. The change in the color of his irises was stunning, only strengthening her belief that it was just her mind playing tricks.

  “Hi,” she got out, barely a whisper, not caring if she was talking to a figment of her imagination. Her voice came out rough, dry, and it hurt. She’d kill for a sip of water.

  His eyes definitely radiated blue as they widened, and then his fingers dug between the slats. Wood snapped when he yanked hard, tearing it away.

  “Son of a bitch.” His tone deepened into a snarl, his anger clear.

  Jasmine swallowed, trying to stay in the fantasy. It beat the alternative. “Did you ever build those condos?” She wanted to wince at how horrible her voice sounded. It seemed pretty pathetic to screw up a daydream.

  “Jasmine?” He leaned closer, a dark shadow.

  He gently gripped her upper arms. It still hurt but she didn’t pull away. He had big hands, and the warmth of them was worth the pain. His glowing gaze traveled down her body where she sat in the dark, cramped space, before lifting to meet hers.

  “I’ll get you free.” One hand released her and he magically withdrew a knife from his long coat. “Hang on.”

  He dropped his other hand to grip the shackle on her wrist. It hurt enough to make her cry out but he didn’t stop. The tip of the metal stabbed the lock and he flicked his wrist. The shackle parted, releasing her. He tossed it aside and the chain fell to the dirt next to her knee. He repeated the process to free her from the other restraint.

  “Come here.” He shoved the knife back into his coat and opened his arms. “Crawl to me. I don’t want to drag you out.”

  Every movement hurt but she managed to shift to her knees, careful of the low roof of the storage area she’d been confined inside. He backed up enough to give her room. She straightened the second she was clear and threw her arms around his broad shoulders. Her breasts were smashed against warm cotton and a firm torso.

  His soft, silky hair was down now, testament to him being a fantasy. The real man had always kept it secured in a leather tie at the base of his neck. She’d always wanted to see how it would look free from that confinement.

  His strong, thick arms wrapped around her waist. She breathed him in instead of the atrocious stench she’d adjusted to. Her nose buried into the long strands of his hair. “You smell so good.”

  His massive body tensed.

  “Don’t let me go.” She didn’t mind dying if she could just hold on to the memory of him. It meant she wouldn’t die alone, despite him not being real. “Please. Don’t leave me.”

  He drew her closer by tightening his hug. “I’ve got you, Jasmine.”

  She wished that were true. “I’m glad it’s you.”

  He stroked her back. “You’re safe.”

  Exhaustion took hold as his warmth surrounded her. Her eyes closed for the first time in days as she clung to him, and the fantasy that had brought him.

  Chase softly cursed as the woman in his arms turned limp. He could hear her steady heartbeat as he lifted her more securely into his arms. He stood and turned to stare at the wolves. One of them spoke.

  “What do we do with her? Can you wipe her memory? It would be a shame to kill her after all she’s survived, but there may be no choice.”

  Chase hesitated. “She’s none of your concern. Clean this up and remove all evidence of what happened. I’m taking her somewhere safe. There’s been enough death here.”

  He strode out of the basement with Jasmine cradled in his arms. He’d liked the sweet, soft-spoken woman a little too much. She’d bravely met him—a stranger—at night to show him possible sites for the pack to roam. She’d also easily bought into his lies, making it possible to avoid altering her thoughts. He’d found her attractive and had picked up her very subtle hints that she was interested, but he’d ignored every one. She was the type of woman he’d destroy.

  He refused to allow that to happen, despite the way his body had reacted to Jasmine. She had wavy hair that reminded him of coffee and cream. Most of it was shades of brown with blonde highlights. He’d fantasized running his fingers through those tresses of hers. Her eyes reminded him of the sky, pale blue, and they held a look of innocence. Her curvy body was the opposite, drawing a man’s lust with her full breasts and flared hips he wanted to touch and explore. She was human though, fragile, and bringing one into his world could become hazardous to her health. He’d never allow harm to befall her, even if that meant he was the one she needed to be protected from.

  Of course, now everything had changed.

  “Chase?”

  He clenched his teeth as a shadow near the front door moved. Arry stepped into his path, her green eyes narrowed. She shouldn’t be there, yet she was. Irritation flashed as he stared back at her, knowing she’d purposely arrived in hopes of him needing her somehow. It was never going to happen.

  “Open it and move.”

  “Who is she? Dinner?” A pink tongue darted out to swipe ruby-red lips. “Not very appealing.”

  A growl of anger burst forth before he could halt the instinct. Arry might actually mean her words. He and Arry were as different as night and day. “Do as you’re told. She’s a survivor.”

  “Not for long. She’s circling the drain.”

  He trusted Arry’s sense of smell better than his own. She was older. “Get the door,” he snapped. “You’re visiting my territory, and you’ll do as you’re told.”

  “Fine.” She opened it wide, stepping out of his way. “You should let me drink her and just end it. She’s got twelve hours at most.”

  Not if Chase had anything to say about it. He glanced around, certain no one watched. His senses didn’t tingle as he strode to his car and gently adjusted Jasmine in his hold as he situated her in the passenger seat then closed the door. He paused at the driver’s door to peer over the top of the car. Arry stood silent, her blonde hair white under the streetlights.

  “Help them clean up that mess inside.”

  “I’m here to see you, not dispose of rogue kill.”

  “It’s an order. D
o it or leave my territory.”

  “So forceful.” Arry smiled. “I always liked that about you.” She stepped closer, running her fingers over the curves of her breasts on their way to hug lean hips. “I’d rather help you.”

  The meaning was clear, and he was tired of it. “Go help them or leave, Arry. There’s no reason for you to be here. Do as I say or I’ll have to escort you out of my territory by force.”

  He climbed inside the car and started the engine. Chase didn’t miss the way the blonde stormed back into the house. She was going to be a problem, but she had been since her arrival a week before. Arry had always been determined and selfish about getting her way. And she was set on him.

  He pulled away from the curb, darting glances at the unconscious woman in the next seat. She was too pale, had lost weight since he’d last seen her, and Chase decided Arry was correct—Jasmine wouldn’t survive the next day unless he saved her life.

  “Shit.”

  The vampires in the area might have a problem with him taking in a human. They posed a threat. But the werewolf pack was strong enough to win a challenge if anyone protested. He’d kill any vampires who attacked. That would definitely piss off his two bosses, Blaron and Lethal, but ultimately they wouldn’t be a problem. They were friends.

  Taking Jasmine to the club wasn’t an option. She would need his full attention while she recovered, and he didn’t want to deal with any bullshit. He headed to the place he kept on the sly. No one would find him until he’d decided how to deal with the consequences of what he planned to do.

  One more glance to his right confirmed that the woman clung to life. He refused to allow Jasmine to die.

  The long driveway was cracked from years of purposeful neglect, to give it an abandoned appearance, but the small light on the entry keypad was on when he stopped the car. He punched in the code and the gate blocking his path slowly wobbled to the side. He drove through and up to the two-story hillside house.

  As he lifted Jasmine out of the car, he sensed a presence behind him. One sniff assured him it was Jenny. He didn’t look back as he spoke. “We have a guest.”

  “Is she one of us?”

  He disliked being questioned, but he had a soft spot for his half-sister. “No.”

  “I smell vampire and death all over her. Is she turning?”

  “No. She’s just a human victim and a special friend.”

  “She’s in bad shape.”

  “I know.” He kicked the car door closed and quickly walked up the porch steps. “Open the door and prepare a bath in my room. I’m also going to need blood.”

  Jenny darted around him and threw open the front door. “Okay.”

  He went inside and turned, carrying his light burden down the basement steps and pausing near the wine racks. Jenny gripped two bottles, pushing them deeper into their slots to trigger the panel. The wall soundlessly slid open, revealing a hallway. He strode down it to his bedroom.

  He laid Jasmine across the end of his bed and began undressing her. There wasn’t much to remove. The sight of the bruising and bites on her pale form once again made him regret killing the rogue too quickly. He’d deserved to suffer.

  “The tub is filling.” Jenny paused. “Do you want me to wash her?”

  It was tempting, but Jasmine was his responsibility. “No. Do what I said. Bring me the blood. And she’ll need clothing when she wakes.”

  “I don’t have anything sexy.”

  He growled, whipped his head in her direction and glared at her. “She’s not my lover. Bring her one of those large nightshirts you wear. That will do. Go.”

  “Sorry.” Her gaze dropped in submission. “You said special friend. I assumed wrong.”

  Jenny rushed off without another word. Chase slid his hands under Jasmine and lifted her into his arms again. It was going to be torture to his libido to bathe her. He avoided looking at her breasts or other tempting sights. It seemed a violation of his duty to notice those things while she was so near death.

  “You’re going to be fine,” he promised.

  Chapter Two

  Jasmine was warm and something smelled wonderful. She tried to turn on her side but something held her firm. She opened her eyes to see soft lights and a face hovering just over her own.

  “Easy,” Chase rasped. “You’re safe.”

  Memory returned. She was delusional, fantasizing that her sexy client had come to her rescue. His eyes were an incredible mocha brown with swirls of blue, as striking as his handsome, tan face. He had the best lips. They were full and lush; the kind she guessed would be wonderful to kiss. Chase Woods was a guy who probably did everything really well.

  She lay on something soft and comfortable with her upper body slightly elevated so her head was higher than her legs. Dirt no longer clung to her skin from lying on the basement floor. It took effort to look away from Chase to glance at her surroundings. The room was spacious and a fire burned in a brick-rimmed fireplace. The bed she rested on was large with silky black sheets. She stared at Chase again.

  “You need to help me help you.”

  “Okay.” She would do anything he wanted as long as it kept her mind from returning to the hellish nightmare of the dank basement.

  His eyes fascinated her. She remembered them being dark brown but they were lighter now, and the hints of bright blue were an odd combination. More of the vibrant color flared, spreading as she watched until they glowed as if they were sapphires.

  He took a deep breath and parted his lips. The sight of sharp canines made her gasp. They were long, terrifying fangs. The arm around her waist tightened.

  “Don’t fight. I won’t hurt you.”

  He lifted his other arm and she watched in rapt horror while he bit into his wrist. Chase jerked his mouth away and shoved the wound at her open mouth. Warm skin and blood touched her lips and tongue. It was instinct to twist away but his arm at her waist lifted and his hand fisted into her hair to hold her head in place.

  “Stop fighting and drink.”

  It was as if she lost her will to do anything else. She was aware of swallowing the warm substance. It grossed her out but she didn’t gag as she continued to do as he ordered. His voice sounded deeper and her daydream had turned into an entirely new nightmare.

  “This will heal you. You’ve lost a lot of blood and some of your internal organs have begun to shut down. You’re safe, Jasmine. You know me.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry I have to force you, but this is for the best.”

  He finally pulled his wrist away and licked it. The second he broke eye contact, she regained control of her body. She tried to twist away again but he held her firmly by the hair. She managed to swipe at the wetness on her mouth with her hand. Red blood smeared across her fingers. A soft gasp drew her attention from the sight of it.

  A pretty woman with dark hair stood a few feet from the bed with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “You’re sharing your blood with her? You can’t do that!”

  Chase stared at the brunette. “Did you bring the blood?”

  “Yes. It’s on the table. I thought it was for you.”

  “This is none of your concern. Leave.”

  “How can you say that? You should have asked me first.”

  “This is my house.” His voice deepened into a snarl. “You’re welcome to move out if you have a problem.”

  The woman spun and fled the room. Jasmine stared at Chase when he met her gaze. Is that his girlfriend? Wife?

  He seemed to guess her thoughts. “That’s my sister. I just surprised her, but she’ll adjust to you being here.”

  “What’s going on?” Jasmine hated how soft her voice sounded, a near whisper.

  “You were attacked by a rogue vampire, but you’re safe now. This is my home.” He picked up a warm, wet washcloth and dabbed gently at her fingers. He then cleaned away the blood on her face. “It’s your home now too.”

  She wasn’t sure what alarmed her the most. Did he say vampire? It would explain his fang
s, and why he’d made her drink blood. What does he mean—it’s my home too? Fear edged up her spine, but admittedly, it wasn’t as bad as being chained inside a basement with a homicidal madman.

  “Your eyes...”

  “Easy,” Chase rasped, dropping the washcloth on a side table. He leaned in and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb along her hairline. “I know this is a lot to learn after what you’ve suffered. I’ll answer all your questions.”

  The first one that came to mind popped out of her mouth. “What are you?”

  “I’m a rarity.” His hand dropped from her skin but he stayed close. “I’m a mixed breed—werewolf and vampire.”

  She wondered why all the really handsome men had such major flaws. Chase Woods was nuts. Of course it wasn’t real. “Okay.” There was no use arguing with a hallucination.

  “That doesn’t distress you?” He arched one eyebrow.

  “It would if this were real.”

  He drew in a deep breath then sighed. “What would it take to convince you it is?”

  “I’d be in a hospital if I’d survived and the police had found me. Your eyes would be totally brown, too.”

  “Humans aren’t allowed to know about us. They usually scream, and then promptly attempt to kill us. We police our own. The vampire who took you was bad, and I was sent to kill him.”

  “So you’re a vampire hunter?” She must have watched too many movies to create this fantasy. “With magical eyes?”

  “I’m an enforcer.”

  “Nicer title.”

  Chase really was a good-looking man when he grinned. “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re being very agreeable.”

  “This beats reality. It isn’t the kind of dream I usually have about you though.”

  Interest sparked in his eyes. “You dream about me?”

  “All the time. You’re hot, Chase. I flirted but you ignored me. I don’t blame you,” she went on. “I drove by that Goth club you work at a few times and saw some of the women going inside. They all looked like strippers, lingerie models or porn stars...and I don’t.”