by HK Savage
“It’s for the best,” she muttered to herself, not believing a word. Some day she would have the satisfaction of destroying the creature who had taken her unit and her lover that day and only then could she ask forgiveness of their ghosts. Until then, she had no right to happiness, to Ryan.
“Shouldn’t we call him?” Becca smoothed the black fabric ending at her knee while she sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. “I mean, you did yell at him in front of his peers. Shouldn’t we be doing some damage control?”
A growl rolled out of the bathroom where Michael was finishing getting ready. His hair took longer than hers did. Becca snorted at her lover’s one vanity. She either threw hers in a ponytail when it was still wet or brushed it out and let it air dry. Michael’s, however, was thick and took longer to dry, plus he had to use gel to get it just right. The effect was drop dead sexy waves that fell in all the right spots. She was pondering teasing him when he stepped out, the look in his eye sending thoughts of teasing and smoothing Detective Salvo’s feelings into retreat. The black shirt was open at the neck, revealing the divot at the base of his pale throat that led to his smooth chest. Tucked into black trousers that accented his lean waist and finished with freshly shined Italian shoes and topped with a pewter belt buckle, he looked delicious. His lips curved when he saw the way she sucked in her breath and followed him with her eyes.
Becca sat up straighter, she knew they needed to be outside to meet the others soon. Running her hand over her skirt again, she considered staying in. No deal. They had to meet with the others, brainstorm, and then get back so Michael could have his evening rundown with Admiral Black. It was a necessity of this life. Not one of the perks, but this life had brought her Michael, and for that gift she could handle some inconvenient check-ins from the road.
Michael’s long strides brought him to within inches of where she sat. She slid her fingers under her legs lest they take on a will of their own and start something.
“Now that he’s had time to cool down he’ll figure out what I did.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and looked down at her, shirtsleeves rolled up partway exposed his lean forearms.
She stared up at him, watching a wave of hair fall forward over his forehead. Her teeth clenched her lower lip. “He who?”
“Detective Salvo,” Michael said softly, the blue in his eyes giving way to the growing black pupils. “He’s smart. He’ll figure out I was distracting him. He and his fellow officers will have a bitch fest about us over a few beers tonight.”
The sheer presence of Michael was enough to get her started. Throw in the fact that he was trying to tempt her and that her blood reacted to his nearness and Becca was fighting a losing battle. “And you’re okay with that? With them thinking you’re an ass when it suits you?” She started to think of positions that wouldn’t mess up her hair too badly. Feeling her give up the fight, her body heated up another notch. It knew what was in store and the craving was beyond fighting.
“Yes. I want him to know that he’s outranked.” A hint of fang showed when he ran his tongue over his lip. “Especially when I see him going after something of mine.”
Becca stood up, bringing her face even with his chest. Her hand reached out to touch his firm skin, starting at his abs and running up to his chest. Pushing off, she tilted her head up to see him. Flecks of blue were less visible as the black bled over and the vampire inside him fought to be free. She knew that meant fast and hard, their usual flavor. Her pulse quickened in anticipation. “Yours?” There was a hint of a challenge to her tone. Screw her hair, she’d do it again gladly.
His growl rolled out and arms of iron trapped her against his chest. When his lips met hers they were insistent. Nerves had been strained all day. Both wanted a release. Becca’s tongue traced his lip and she flicked it against his fangs, being careful not to prick herself. A drop of blood would throw him over the edge the state he was in and then they’d never make dinner. Though as her blood pressure came up, Becca cared less and less about dinner or who might be waiting for them.
Need to dominate rose in Michael; his arms shook with the effort to maintain some control and Becca’s body hummed with anticipation. Knowing how to slake his thirst fast, she pushed against his chest and gained some space. Enough to grab his shirt and maneuver him around to sit in her recently vacated spot on the bed. Hands sliding down, she picked up the hem of her skirt and pulled it up around her waist. One knee went up next to his leg on the bed.
Michael’s dexterous fingers trailed their way down her back to slip into her black thong. One hand roughly pulled the lace aside while the other continued to round the curve to slip first one, then two fingers inside her. Aching for him, she moaned and pulled the other leg up until she was on her knees, straddling him.
He left his fingers dip inside then come out to wet her nub, which he proceeded to roll around and flick alternately, sending shivers running up and down her legs. Becca’s thighs began to shake as she worked with him to keep the rhythm. Michael left his fingers to work her into a frenzy while his other hand cupped her small breast.
Lowering her face, Becca caught his mouth eagerly. Her hands fumbled to open his pants. Lifting his hips, he helped her shove them out of the way. Once he was freed, her hands moved south. She cupped his balls, squeezing until he growled while she used her body to stroke him.
His hold on himself was tremulous at best. She felt his struggle as he grazed his teeth along the side of her neck. He’d only really bitten her once and had been ashamed to lose control. Becca had her own view on the subject. She didn’t want him to bite her necessarily, but knowing that for him to do so meant she’d driven him out of his mind with desire posed a personal challenge. She could feel that he was close and she wanted the victory.
Making a little mewling noise in her throat, she put her hands on his shoulders and pulled herself harder against him. Opening and closing her knees a few inches while shimmying her hips let her stroke his cock while her fingernails raised goose bumps on his low back and flanks. Light touches made him wild and she used that knowledge against him.
Roaring back the passion that had to be screaming to get out, Michael gripped her hips with both hands and pulled her off. It took only a few seconds to reverse positions so that she was lying down and he hovered over her, his feet on the ground. He slid himself inside her in one deliciously slow, controlled motion. Becca’s breath went out with a whoosh and a groan. Shuddering, she grabbed his upper arms while Michael pulled out and slammed in a little harder. She could feel a new tension building, the ringing in her ears starting almost immediately.
Within a few strokes Michael was pushing hard and Becca was on the edge. Hands releasing her hips to raise her shirt so he could hold her breasts while he pounded into her, marking her as his, Michael gritted his teeth and she clenched around him, her legs behind his back holding him captive. She needed him to lose control. She needed to know he was hers as much as she was his. That her body’s reliance upon him wasn’t just one sided. His tongue ran up the side of her neck to her ear and she felt the tip of a fang just before he raised his chest off her and double-timed his thrusts until she didn’t even know what was happening anymore.
When she came, it was one orgasm flowing into the next, all focus lost in her bliss. Before she floated back down, his last desperate thrust marked his release and he leaned forward to kiss her neck. Sensitive all over, Becca shivered. His chest rumbled against hers with soft, dark laughter. She was too dizzy to make a smartass comment about how pleased he was with himself. He should be, she thought. He’d earned it.
Chapter 19
Dinner was at the mom and pop joint across the lot from the motel. Fine dining had its place, but no one was too worried about it that particular night.
Gabrielle was distracted, Ryan wouldn’t stop fiddling with his fork, Becca was having a little trouble sitting and Michael kept reaching into his pocket to check his phone. It was getting late and Black would call soon if he di
dn’t hear from Michael. They all knew it was better to be the caller, not the callee.
After waters were brought and burgers ordered all around, Becca broke the tense silence with a hand slap to the cream formica table top. Everyone in the booth as well as a few around them looked over.
Cheeks coloring, she plowed ahead with a voice low enough only they could hear. “We came here to talk through what we know, so let’s do it and be done.” When it was obvious no one else was intending to speak, she leaned in. “Fine, if no one else wants to go first.”
Her gaze swept around the table and she felt her mouth pull into a smile when she met Michael’s beside her. Hearing the exasperated sighs sure to come from the other two in her head, she aimed her eyes straight at her fingers then to the wolves alternately. Wisely, she kept from making eye contact with Michael for the time being.
“Gabrielle, I followed you,” Becca waited for the explosion, “from the crime scene.”
Instead, the woman who should have been at the very least glaring hard enough to incinerate, only rolled her shoulders. “I figured that out, so?”
Faced with the intimidation factor ratcheted up a notch, Becca started to lose her nerve. “Uh, there was this glowing thing you were following. I didn’t get close enough to see it. What was it?”
All eyes were on Gabrielle who sat slumped in her seat and shrugged again. “I don’t know.” She glanced up at Ryan, then caught herself and focused instead on the ice cubes floating in her glass. “I’ve been following something for the past few nights, but until you said you saw light,” she frowned, “I haven’t known what it was. Just that I had to follow it and I had to be human to follow it.”
“Why did you have to be human?” Becca asked the obvious.
Still staring at her ice cubes, Gabrielle mumbled, “It told me to.”
Ryan’s response cut Becca’s off. “You mean whatever you keep following is telling you what to do and where to go and you didn’t think to say anything?”
Distinctly uncomfortable, Gabrielle gave her eyes to Becca. Apparently she was the least threatening. She tried not to be overly offended. It sort of worked.
“I was going to. I was working it out in my head.” Confusion painted her perfect features for the first time in Becca’s memory. “What was I supposed to do, tell you how I keep waking up in different places and have no idea how I got there?” Some dark emotion passed over her face and she stopped talking.
Becca jumped in. “Wait, you mean you blacked it out?” She wasn’t sure she believed such a thing was possible for the unflappable Gabrielle. She’d thought her blackout had been due to her failed attempt at jumping into her head.
Her blonde brow lifted and she tilted her head, an oddly canine gesture. “Do you mean to say you remember everything that happened out there?” Her scrutiny was all at once intensely focused.
There was no way she could know what Becca had been doing when she’d, what, been hijacked? What had happened out there? After she tried to jump she’d lost herself in her memories. Eyes going wide, her mouth opened but nothing came out. Self-conscious the others were paying way too much attention, she snapped it shut without speaking. Michael went quiet beside her and Ryan was getting twitchier by the second. Did he know what Gabrielle was seeing? Becca wasn’t close enough to ask.
A reprieve came in the form of the short woman carrying a tray of burgers and fries. “Anything else?” she asked, her exhausted slouch begging them not to answer.
Politely, Michael shook his head and gave her a brief smile. “No, thank you.”
Just for a moment she perked under his attentiveness, shooting the women at the table a wary glance. Off balance already, Becca clenched her fists on her thighs. Reason told her there was no threat, but, like in the police station, she felt her body tense up, readying for action. Michael’s hand touched hers under the table and she relaxed.
The waitress, seeing this wasn’t a free agent, gave them all a quick smile and moved on. The thick rubber soles of her black lace-ups squelched away.
“We killed the freaky ass vampire.” Ryan popped a fry in his mouth and reached for the ketchup. His mild tone belied the angry, jerking motions of his hands. “Are you thinking you were following something else? That something else out there is powerful enough to induce hallucinations and blackouts and we missed it?”
Shaking her head slowly with her hands folded in her lap, Gabrielle pursed her lips. “No. I mean, I don’t know.”
“I doubt whatever thing was using the vampire hobo to draw you out would let us take its killer puppet out without so much as a peep. Unless it knew it couldn’t handle us.” Ryan’s bravado wasn’t entirely false; he and Michael made a formidable team.
A new sort of emotion, desperation, flavored Gabrielle’s words. “You weren’t there. You weren’t close enough to be under whatever sort of spell or influence or whatever,” she said to Ryan as she leaned over the table, bringing her face closer to Becca’s, her eyes trained solely on her. “I felt it and it was very powerful. So did you. Didn’t you blank out?”
The last thing Becca wanted to do was to tell them she’d tried to jump into one of their heads. They had just started to accept her when she’d discovered that little gem. The only reason anyone didn’t demand she be kicked out of Black’s special paranormal hunting unit was because they thought she could only jump into Michael. Ryan was yet unknown, even to him. Although if Black had his way she’d be his little trained spider monkey, jumping whenever the mood suited him. She had to come up with some reason why it had taken her memory as well.
Michael caught her eye. The knowing she saw there, mixed with the tension around his mouth, told her a lot. He knew what she’d been doing. He knew she had been close enough to be affected just as strongly as the one standing right there. That he wasn’t saying anything implied he might continue to keep her secret from the others. The little voice in her head reminded her he couldn’t keep it from someone. At least this time, that didn’t matter. They had to tell him anyway.
“Maybe it’s a proximity thing. I was close by the time you stopped. Obviously it was close enough.” Becca took a bite of her burger, chewing slowly.
“Have you,” Gabrielle hadn’t blinked, she was getting creepy, “seen anything weird since?”
Breaking off, unable to handle such anxiety from the unflappable woman, Becca shook her head quickly.
Laying his hand down on the table, Michael claimed the conversation though he took his time in answering. Thoughtfully, he pushed the fries decorating his plate into two sections, flanking the giant homestyle burger. “Gabs, I think it’s best for you to take some time, for now.”
When she didn’t argue at being sidelined, Becca felt a twinge of fear. Whatever this thing was, it had her spooked. And anything that could get under her skin scared the hell out of Becca.
“We need to get back into the computers at the station,” Michael went on, giving her a quick glance to tell her she was the other part of “we” again.
“What do you think that will tell you?” Ryan asked around a mouthful of meat and bun. “You had hours to dig through what they had yesterday and didn’t find anything.”
Dark waves dipped slowly in acknowledgement. “Yes, but we were only looking for violent crimes. Now I want to open up the search.” His eyes flicked toward their subdued unit member. “Not just radius, I want to see their reports on any sort of oddities. People report it when they see bizarre things. Bizarre isn’t acceptable to the human mind.”
“Yeah, but will they report it?” Becca was human and agreed with his sentiment. However, she saw a hole in his reasoning. “Wouldn’t they be worried to admit they saw,” she avoided looking at Gabrielle now sinking into herself, “things? Or that they blacked out? It’s a relatively small town and word gets around when you’re waking up in weird places, blacking out when you’re sober or seeing the walking dead.”
“In some cases that’s true.” Michael tipped his head her dire
ction without making eye contact. “But I guarantee, if this is affecting the populace, there have been at least a few people who have come forward.”
Nothing more was said on the subject and their meal was quietly consumed. Michael left his alone and Gabrielle barely touched hers. Only Ryan and Becca ate. Hers, she had to admit, was more to give her something to distract her than out of hunger.
Becca trailed Michael back to their room, not looking forward to the inevitable confrontation. Cool façade aside, she wasn’t good at personal confrontations and usually tried to avoid them. Last in, she pushed the door shut and slid the chain lock into place. Leaning against the door, she waited.
Nothing happened. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. He knew she was supposed to master her new skill. Her facing Black as a failure was a terrifying prospect for both of them. She’d seen how he punished defiance. A human couldn’t survive that kind of beating.
So, if he knew this had to happen, why was she dreading it so much? Sighing, she studied the outline of his back. He faced away from her, the muscles in his shoulder shifting against his shirt as he twirled the phone in his pocket. The call to Black had to happen soon. He was putting it off. Again, why?
