She shrugged. “He wanted to play offense instead of defense.”
Ian raised a questioning brow at her.
Benie scratched her head. “Look. He had a tracker tattoo, which means someone hired him to come after me. I should have known my luck would run out sometime. I probably killed a rogue who meant something to someone important. Someone with enough money to hire a tracker. Those fuckers aren’t cheap.” She smiled. “Not like I am.”
Ian grimaced. “But not easy.” He smiled then shook his head. “There’s probably a dead pizza delivery guy somewhere close. Finding him might be a good idea.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she said.
He did the lip-twisty thing again.
Benie sighed. “What else?”
Ian held out a small, rectangular box. “In here are samples from a friend of mine, a marine biologist.”
Okay. So they were done talking about poor dead pizza dudes, unruly asshole shifters, and their fucking awesome sexual mistake. Leave it to Ian to move into science-land so easily, while she sat here with a body still aching for his touch and a heart bruised by his callous words.
“What kind of samples?” she asked.
“Well…” He opened the package and pulled out a case. It contained a variety of microscope slides. “These have various chromatophores from different fish and amphibians.”
He pulled out a stack of the slides. “For example, there are melanophores, erythrophores, xanthophores, leucophores and iridiophores. Each one causes particular animals to change colors to camouflage themselves against predators. I wanted to compare them with the pigment properties in your skin cells and see what they have in common and what they don’t. I’ve even got a few plant samples of chloroplasts. Very cool stuff.”
“You think I might have these chromato-whatsits in my skin?”
“Couldn’t hurt to have a look.” He was barely paying attention to her now, his complete focus on this new project.
“Well, I’d love to stay and play, but I need my beauty sleep.” She didn’t want to leave, much preferring to have an encore of their earlier performance in the bedroom. Like that would happen. It was better to ignore her disappointment and concentrate on the job. “I’ll call around in the morning and see what I can find out about our shifter friend. Maybe one of my informants will know something.”
She categorically wanted answers, and she wanted them yesterday. Also, she couldn’t stop thinking about Ian’s inexplicable healed wounds. She wanted to believe her blood was that awesome, but Ian’s explanation didn’t sit right with her. It was too easy. And now that she thought about it, they’d never had a conversation about her healing abilities and whether it might transfer to humans. Then again, she couldn’t claim to have listened to all of Ian’s scientific mumbo jumbo.
The only thing keeping her from completely freaking out was the fact that he didn’t seem that concerned. Could it be possible? Just because she’d never heard of it happening, didn’t mean the possibility didn’t exist.
Ian’s expression betrayed his disappointment. “You don’t want to look at the slides?”
Benie snorted. “I’ll leave the science to the scientist. Besides, once you start, you won’t notice whether I’m here or not.” She suppressed a sigh. It would have been funny, if it hadn’t been entirely true.
“Don’t be like that.” He leaned forward and held out a piece of paper with some writing on it. “Here.”
Benie registered the name written down. Trace Calder. There was also a phone number. “Who is this, and why should I care?”
Ian shrugged again. “I called a guy who knows a guy. He says if you need the inside scoop on the OWs, that’s the dude you want.”
“What makes him an expert?”
“Besides being one of them, and before you argue, hear me out, he’s a mediator between the species. The guy always stays neutral, and I’m telling you this so you don’t think I’m trying to trick you, he’s an HP.”
She could feel her ears warming with anger. Human-passer. Her skin began to shift to the chocolate brown of Ian’s bed, reminding Benie she was still in his bed. Even her hair darkened in color.
“Damn it, Benie. You have to trust me about this guy. He’s solid, and he can help us.”
“Fine. I’ll check him out.” She sat up. “I’m off to my bed so we can both get some sleep.”
He gave her a crooked smile, causing a clenching between her thighs.
If he kept it up, she would forget what she was doing, forget they were only friends. “I’m serious. You look flat worn-out.”
“I’ve got a mom, you know.”
“Gross, dude.” Benie punched his arm. “I’m naked for fuck-sake.”
“Then quit treating me like a baby.”
When she looked at him, she remembered what it was like to be in his arms, to have him hold her, kiss her, come inside her. She’d give anything if he looked at her like a lover. But Ian was good at keeping his distance. “Hush and get to bed, Mr. Einstein. Tomorrow’s a big day. I have a monster to meet, and you have shit to examine, dissect, and all that good, geeky stuff.”
Ian rolled onto his back, but kept his gaze on Benie. “Oh, Mother, you never let me play outside with the other kids.”
“Sarcasm, I don’t need.” And mother to Ian, she didn’t want to be. She rolled off the bed and crossed her arms over her breasts. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Impulsively, and despite their prior conversation, Benie leaned down and kissed him, long and lingering.
Ian blew out a slow breath. “Mom never kissed me like that.”
She threw a pillow at him. “Goodnight, Ian.”
“Goodnight, Benie.”
*
After Benie left, Ian relaxed with a sigh. He’d probably screwed up the best thing in his life. She’d been bitten by a Leiol, and he reasoned if she’d adopted the Jekyll’s berserking behavior, then her lust had been a side effect of the incubus.
Not because she truly wanted him.
That hurt him the most. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing Benie. He was in love with her, and she didn’t return those feeling. But damn if being with her hadn’t been worth it. Benie was worth it. Though after what he’d seen under the microscope tonight, she might end up hating him. Not for the sex, but because of the slide sample he’d taken from the shifter’s blood. If Ian was right about why his wounds had healed, Benie wouldn’t like the result.
He scratched at his left shoulder. It had been itching since he and Benie had made love. The tingling started shortly after he’d orgasmed—which had nothing to do with being clawed by the shifter. Or had it? The skin irritation had been part of the reason he hadn’t been able to sleep. It still itched like a dermatological histamine reaction. Maybe he’d rubbed up against something while they were having sex, but he’d never had an allergic reaction to anything in the apartment before. Putting down the slides, he headed to the bathroom to check it out.
Chapter 3
Benie had called Trace Calder at five in the morning, and he’d agreed to meet with her at his house in the Green Hills sub-division for dinner. During the day, she’d asked around with her own contacts beforehand, and they all agreed—Calder was supposedly the foremost expert in OW crap. She hoped he’d live up to the hype.
She knocked at the front door of his blue split-level ranch with white trim and pictured the perfect family with two-point-five kids, a wife in a blousy apron, and a husband who wore sensible shoes around the house.
The door is unlocked. Come in, a deep clear voice said in her head.
Benie nearly peed her pants and fell off the porch. And Ian accused her of not being able to answer the door like a normal person! She’d been told that Calder was a telepath and clairvoyant, but hearing and experiencing it were two different things—very unsettling.
She opened the door and peeked inside. The guy wasn’t in the living room. “Mr. Calder?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” he an
swered, this time out loud.
She could smell garlic, rosemary, and a touch of basil wafting down the hallway. He stood in the kitchen wearing a pair of fitted jeans that hugged a very cute butt and a black T-shirt that looked like it had been painted on his muscular back. He looked tasty, for lack of a better word—not what she’d been expecting. She’d sort of thought he’d look like a gnome—like Dr. Gray.
“What are you fixing?” she asked suspiciously.
He turned around, and she could see he wore a half-apron that said, “Dinner Served Hot.”
Yes, it is, Benie thought before she could stop herself.
He smiled. It made his light-brown eyes sparkle, and everything went squishy inside her…which made her grumpy.
She didn’t want to be having squishy feelings for an OW, especially after what had happened between her and Ian. And what will never happen again, she reminded herself.
“Are you hungry?” Calder asked, carrying a large pan of sauced spaghetti to the table.
The question itself made Benie’s stomach growl. Not very dignified or bad ass. Traitorous belly.
Trace Calder smiled, and she heard his laughter in her head. She pointed to him, and then to her temple. “You stay out of here.”
“Food will be ready in a moment, Benoica.” He gestured for her to sit at the table.
People rarely called her Benoica, and she liked the way it sounded when Calder said it, unforced and natural, which she found unsettling. “It’s Benie,” she insisted.
“All right, Benie.”
Even the way he said, “Benie,” was sexy as hell. She narrowed her gaze, trying to ignore her attraction to him, and tersely said, “I agreed to dinner, so I’ll eat. But it doesn’t mean I have to like the company.”
Calder snorted, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he set a pretty table with pasta, antipasto, marinara sauce, and garlic bread. He also grilled asparagus, which she didn’t eat. Ever. It was bad enough that her skin turned funny colors. She didn’t need her urine to do the same thing.
“No meatballs?”
“I’m a vegetarian.” He took off the apron and joined Benie at the table.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you are.” Great, he was one of those HPs. The kind who liked to pretend he was better than the rest of them because he didn’t eat meat aka humans.
“Not all of who you call other worlders eat humans. As a matter of fact, only a very small percentage enjoy that particular meal, but I’m pretty sure you know that already. It would be easy to see the world in black and white, but it doesn’t usually work out that way, Benie.”
She gave him her hardest, most ferocious scowl. “I understand that you can peek in my head anytime you want, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stay the hell out.”
“Funny, I could have sworn you were human.”
The statement was so casual that it took Benie a second to realize what he’d said. “I am human!”
He raised a well-groomed eyebrow. “Half?”
“How would you know?”
“Well, for one thing, your hands, your face, and your hair have all but disappeared. I know a few other species that can camouflage themselves like that. Of course, they aren’t nearly as attractive as you are.”
Benie didn’t know whether to run away mortified or be flattered. The first thing she did was shut her gaping mouth, closed her eyes, and started the breathing exercise that Dr. Gray had taught her during their session.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset.” More breathing, Benie, deeper, deeper, now exhale. She knew she wasn’t completely human, but she didn’t need some sanctimonious OW prick pointing out her deficiencies. “Shut the hell up.”
“It was my mistake. And look, your color is returning to normal. You know, I can usually tell why someone has come to see me, but your thoughts have been very distracted since you got here. Why don’t we get down to business? It may help you to relax.”
“Good idea.” Benie was glad he hadn’t made any comments about her “cute butt, nice back” thoughts from earlier. He smiled again. Damn it, she needed to focus!
Trace Calder sat down to his own plate and twirled his pasta between his fork and a large spoon. “So, Ms. Dilian. What can I do for you?
“Well, Mr. Calder.” Benie could be formal too. “Can you tell me why a tracker would risk exposing itself by coming to a well-populated apartment complex to attack someone?” She thought about the beast’s bloody corpse and its head she’d nearly severed.
Calder winced. “I’m not sure.” He pushed his plate forward. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
“I told you to stay out of my head.” She took a hunk of bread. “I can’t believe you’re squeamish. I thought you were an expert.”
“I’m an expert in languages, Ms. Dilian. I can fluently speak 5874 of the 6900 known human languages, and sixty-seven other hominid languages.”
“Only sixty-seven?” Benie tried not to look impressed.
“Yes.” He shook his head. “Tracker’s aren’t stupid. I’ve never heard of them attacking someone where they might get caught.”
“So, you’re clueless, huh?”
“No, I have some ideas…”
The wheels were working in his head, spinning round and round, formulating possibilities. And while Benie wasn’t psychic like Trace Calder, she could tell he held back—not telling her everything. Of course, she hadn’t told him everything either. Like that fact that she came from a long line of hunters, and this was the first time she’d been the huntee.
Trace raised an eyebrow.
“Shit.”
“It’s all right. I wondered which category you would fall in.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“I get two kinds of clients, Ms. Dilian.”
“And the two types would be?”
“Rich or desperate.”
Benie didn’t like the implication. Cute ass or no cute ass, Trace Calder was way out of line. “I think that’s my cue to leave. This has obviously been a colossal waste of my time…and yours.”
Calder grinned, the tiny lines around his eyes crinkling, making him more attractive, if possible. “Maybe. Then again, maybe not. I know someone who might be able to help.”
Benie stood up. “Someone or something?”
“Just because they’re not human doesn’t make them monsters, Benie.” He stood in front of her. This close, he towered over Benie by at least six inches. His amber eyes reflected sadness and past pain. “I’ve seen monsters. Real monsters. And most of us—the people you call beasts—don’t fall into that category.”
Impulsively, almost involuntarily, Benie placed her hand on his cheek. His skin was warm, and for an odd instant, her only thought was to comfort Trace and take away his sorrow.
Calder dipped his head, and his lips brushed against hers. Benie felt a sizzle all the way to her toes. His mouth was hot and giving as he moved forward, the tip of his tongue gliding across the edge of her lower lip. A strange sensation—a pure sexual energy—took hold of Benie, much as it had earlier when she’d slept with Ian. Thinking of him brought on a slight stab of guilt. But he’d rejected her. Made it clear there was nothing between them but friendship. And here was Trace, this sexy man, holding her in his arms. Benie could feel his desire wrap her skin like a warm blanket and she wanted more.
She closed her eyes, moaned into his mouth, and enjoyed the way her body react to him instinctually—her breasts tightening, nipples growing hard, and her lower bits slicking with heat. The heady scent of rosewood filled her with a sense of calmness and well-being.
Safe. Happy. Horny.
His large hand slipped from her shoulder, down her arm, then dropped to her waist. Gentle and unhurried, he slid his fingers under her shirt, until his thumb brushed against her breast.
She fumbled with his belt, unhooked the button on his jeans, and then slid her hand down over his bulging cock.
Trace moaned. He r
eached between her legs and rubbed the seam of her jeans. A breathtaking jolt of passion ripped through Benie as she fought to keep her knees from buckling. Everything about Trace’s touch felt right, familiar, necessary. Her body wouldn’t wait for the clothes to come off. Instead, she shoved him to the floor and straddled him.
She rubbed her jeans-clad sex over his straining erection, grinding out her pleasure.
Trace slid his arms around her, deepening his kiss, exploring every inch of her mouth with his tongue. He flipped her onto her back, thrusting between her legs, fucking her in earnest, even without penetration.
A low groan started in Benie’s chest and came out of her mouth as a wail when a powerful orgasm shattered inside her bucking body. Mine, a voice cried in her head.
“Yes,” she said, panting through the waves of ecstasy.
Trace roared as his own orgasm took him, his chest and abdomen jerking forward, shuddering above her. He collapsed beside her on the hardwood floor.
She rolled toward him. This stranger who she’d just dry-humped stupid. This stranger who made her feel so calm and at peace.
Calder stared at her with the same wonder and awe.
His voice was soft and low when he pulled her close. “Your hair and face have all but blended in with my house, Benie. It’s amazing. But your eyes, they are still a lovely shade of pale green. Beautiful.”
Her chest tightened when she thought of what she’d done. She didn’t understand the powerful urge that pushed her over the edge, but she knew the catalyst. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Benie tensed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.” He shook his head. “You move me.”
She’d moved him all right—from the table to the floor.
Trace laughed. “Not that kind of moving. Emotionally, spiritually maybe. There is something about you. You’re…different.”
Great. Ian had rejected her after their encounter, and now Calder thought of her as some kind of weirdo. She pushed her way out of his arms. “Sixty-seven hominid languages and you’ve never met any freaks? I doubt that.”
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