Lone Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  Skin dark against the snowy white of the pillow, he looked both exotic and hard, beautiful and dangerous. Fleetingly, she worried that she was beginning to become obsessed with him, as she’d been during their brief time of passion. But that fear didn’t keep her from wondering what he dreamed of.

  Glancing at the clock, she decided to give him one hour before waking him. She turned off the light and took a seat in the chair near the bed. As her gaze adjusted to the darkness, she felt some of her tension finally ease.

  Bad clichés aside, these days she felt most at home in the dark. Sometimes, watching the enigma that Beck had become, she suspected he did, too.

  After having Dani, taking care of her daughter had managed to banish the discontentment. Loving Dani had brought her a peace she’d never known.

  Now, without her baby girl, she sat, knees drawn to her chest, and watched Dani’s father. Aching, hoping, praying he’d be able to contact her little girl. Their little girl. And, she realized, she craved his arms around her, selfishly wanting to take what comfort his body could give.

  Though the night air had grown chilly, courtesy of an impromptu cold front that had barreled in from New Mexico, he’d kicked off his blanket and lay on his side. The soft glow from the outside light highlighted his chiseled features. He alternated between looking relaxed and peaceful and tough and hard, as though he’d done and seen things that would have broken another man.

  She often wondered if she looked that way, too.

  Aching, wanting and worrying for no good reason that the yawning emptiness of eternal life had become too much, she finally dropped her blanket and crawled into bed beside him, telling herself she was tired of being cold and craved only to share his warmth.

  Careful not to wake him, she moved closer, inch by inch, first letting her shin rest against his, then her leg, thigh and finally, upper body.

  Against him, even the small scraps of cloth suddenly seemed too much. She pulled them off with a few quick motions and then rolled back into place.

  When she lay skin to skin, for the first time in years, she finally felt warmth. She closed her eyes, wishing she could sleep, praying for sleep, and tried to ignore the tiny flame of desire that had sparked to life.

  Occasionally, she’d glance at the clock, measuring seconds against breaths, each minute against her pain staking exploration of his body, of his skin. Of him. Beck, the father of her child, and the one she’d never managed to forget.

  Then her careful touch woke him. She felt it in the change in his breathing, in the sudden swell of his arousal.

  She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about this, about how magnificent that part of him was, how wonderful he’d felt moving inside her. How he’d made her feel passion she’d only heard about and never thought she’d experience. How Beck made her feel, for the first time in a very long life, complete.

  Again now when he touched her, she went up in flames. As his mouth covered hers, she stopped thinking completely, allowing herself to drown in a flood of sensation. Spice and heat, he smelled like sunshine, remnants of the life she’d once had, so long ago.

  For a flash of an instant, she thought of the man he’d been then, before Jules had died, then pushed the image away. This was still Beck, his own man, nearly wild with desire, his masculinity hard against her belly. There was nothing hesitant about the way he touched her, and, for a split second, she envied his certainty.

  Meanwhile, she kept trying to find the balance between the person she’d been and the one she was now.

  Something in her thoughts must have communicated to him, as he broke off the kiss.

  “Marika? Penny for them.” His husky voice brought her out of her internal thoughts. He cupped her face in his hands. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No.” One corner of his sensual mouth tugged up into a half smile. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You’re different,” she said.

  “Different? What do you mean?”

  Still, she continued. “You always did everything with passion. That was one of the things that attracted me to you initially.”

  “Back then,” he interrupted. “Right?”

  “Yes, back then. You blazed through life like a volcano on the verge of erupting. You can’t imagine how amazing that feels to a vampire. Our lives have a tendency to be…cold. Even though I’d lived three hundred years, I’d never met anyone like you.”

  Past tense. She knew he noticed that, too. These days, except when he was touching her, he might have been the original ice man.

  “And now?” He sounded harsh, like a man on the verge of strangling. “What do I seem like to you now?”

  “Remote. Untouchable.”

  “Believe me. I’m anything but that now.”

  “I’m not talking about now. I mean the other times, when we’re not lying naked next to each other.”

  “Ah, I see.” He looked away, but not before she saw the shadow cross his face.

  Chapter 12

  “After Juliet died, and you left, I’d never felt so alone. I threw myself into my job—hell, I lived for my job. I decided to become the best Protector the Society had ever seen.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” He gave her a rueful smile. “In retrospect, that’s probably a good thing. My friend Simon—you met him at Brigid’s earlier—was always a few steps ahead of me. Poor guy got himself known as The Terminator, because he’d exterminated so many Ferals.”

  “By Ferals you mean wild shifters?”

  “Right. We were supposed to go assess them, decide if they could be rehabilitated and brought back into society. The thinking was that if they were left to stay wild, they could become dangerous to humans and to others. And of course, there’s always the risk they could expose the Pack.”

  “How many did you save?”

  “At first, I tried to save all of them. But I nearly got killed twice and then I realized I had to be more objective. I began carrying out more kill orders. Eventually, I burned out.”

  “That must have been hard on you.” She couldn’t imagine what he’d felt like. Though Vampires were technically more ruthless killers than shifters, her job as a Vampire Huntress had been a bit different—she’d only destroyed the truly evil.

  “You don’t know the half of it. Simon was the one who realized the extent of my burn-out. He recommended me for a mandatory vacation, not knowing that was a death sentence under that particular leader. I went on the run from the very organization I’d sworn to serve.”

  “They hunted you?” She found this a difficult concept to follow. “Your own people?”

  “Yes.” In that single word, she heard a wealth of emotion. Disgust mingled with pain, sorrow with anger. No wonder. A complex man who’d valued simple things had been forever changed by the actions of a few evil men.

  No wonder Beck had changed. Who wouldn’t have?

  “What about you?” he asked. “Have you ever regretted becoming a Huntress?”

  “No.” She didn’t even hesitate. “I like what I do and I’m good at it. Though I know I’ll never completely stamp out evil, I get to do my part.”

  She lifted her chin. “Starting with the ones who took Dani.”

  “You know,” he finally said, “searching for Dani is the only thing that gives my life purpose. Up until I found you again and learned about her, I didn’t really know who I was.”

  Her breath caught in her chest. “What about when we find her? What then?”

  He flashed her a grin so beautiful it made her chest ache to see it. “Then I’ll be the best damn daddy you ever saw.”

  At his words, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Let me help you.” She touched him, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder, encouraged when he didn’t move away from her. “If you’d allow me, I could help you find yourself again.”

  “Brave words.” His mocking tone didn’t match the vulnerability in his eyes. “And a big task. I
’m not sure you’re up for it.”

  She gave him her most confident smile. “I am.”

  Staring at her, he shook his head. “Don’t expect too much. You might be disappointed.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “Beck,” she said softly, keeping the rest inside, though another word played over and over in her head. Mate. “I want the old Beck back. Our daughter should know him. No one else.”

  “Not possible,” he growled. “Sorry. I’ll do the best I can, but there’s too much water under the bridge.”

  She kissed him then, meaning to offer him comfort of the sweetness-and-light variety. Instead, the second their lips touched, he took over, meeting her kiss with his own, full of hunger and darkness and passion. And hope. She told herself there was always hope.

  Pressing himself against her, he let her feel the strength and swell of his arousal. Her own body responded, nipples tightening as she arched her back for his touch. He cupped them, suckled them, driving her wild with need and desire. Drowning. She felt as if she was drowning.

  Then he deepened the kiss, his hands boldly claiming her body, and she didn’t have to speak or even think. She had only to give herself over to sensation, and the sweet, heady feel of making love with the man she cared for above all others.

  Sated and refocused, Beck took a shower after their lovemaking, after which he planned to make another attempt to contact Dani. Waiting, Marika felt…restless. More than usual, as if she could jump right out of her skin.

  If she’d been Pack, she would have said she needed to change, to let her inner wolf run free. Since she wasn’t, she knew there was only one thing she could do, one course of action that might make her feel better.

  She was a Vampire Huntress. She needed to hunt.

  Slipping out from under the sheets, she padded softly to where she’d left her clothes and dressed silently. Carrying her shoes, she went to the door, hesitated, then padded over to the bathroom. Opening the door, she told him she’d be back in a few minutes.

  “Hungry?” he asked. “Be careful.”

  She nodded. “I will be. Don’t try to contact Dani with out me. I’ll be back before you’ve finished.”

  Outside, the desert air was crisp and cool, a welcome change from the suffocating heat of the day. The night sky looked like a velvet display dotted with well-placed diamond stars.

  Suddenly ravenous, she debated whether to go left or right, then abruptly chose left. Since the hotel was situated in the center of town, she knew she wouldn’t have to wander too far to find humans wandering the streets. Inebriated or otherwise, she’d take the first one she could find. She was way overdue for a long feast of fresh blood, careful to leave them alive and semiconscious, believing they’d had some kind of late-night hallucination.

  Over the centuries, vampires had learned to regulate themselves if they wanted to live undetected among mankind. A set of rules had been put into place, similar to the Ten Commandments, and these rules were the first thing any fledgling vampire was taught by his or her sire.

  Several of these rules addressed proper behavior when feeding from live humans. Though she was so hungry her fangs ached, Marika would be careful to obey these rules. There was too much at stake now to do something foolish and cause the humans to panic and distrust any strangers on sight.

  As she’d suspected she would, less than a block from the hotel, she came across a man staggering down an alley. Tall and muscular, with work-roughened hands and sun-creased skin, his obvious state of inebriation had him unable to keep his balance. As she glided up alongside him, he struggled to focus his bleary eyes on her.

  “You’re a pretty one, but I’m too drunk for a hooker tonight, honey,” he slurred. “Maybe look me up tomorrow afternoon. I’m staying at the Piss…Pass… Paisano.”

  He thought she was a prostitute. Perfect.

  Giving him a coy smile, she sashayed over, slowly circling him and taking care to keep her fangs hidden.

  She needn’t have bothered—the man could barely focus. As he staggered around trying to watch her, she went in for the bite. Quickly, elegantly and neatly, she pierced his leathery skin, though there was nothing neat or even remotely elegant about the stench of this human who sagged against her. Nevertheless, she feasted on his delicious blood, enjoying the heady rush it gave her.

  When she felt her energy levels returning to full strength, and not wanting to kill him, she judged she’d had enough and pushed herself off him. Ignoring the stench of cigarettes and alcohol and unwashed man, she was gentle as she propped him up against a trash Dumpster.

  Once she’d arranged him to make it look as if he’d merely passed out, she rearranged her clothing, wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand and took a quick look at his neck.

  The puncture marks left by her fangs were already closing. By the time he woke, they’d be barely noticeable. If he saw them at all, he’d probably figure some insect had gotten him. The transformation to vampire would take some time.

  Mood vastly improved, Marika turned and made her way back to the hotel, hoping Beck would be able to reach their daughter now and this time, glean some useful information.

  How he’d known what Marika needed and where she was going to get it, Beck had no idea. But he had.

  She was hungry and was going to feed.

  The wolf side of him had no problem with that. The human side was another story.

  A thousand cautions and warnings flashed through his mind in the few seconds after she’d turned away and headed toward the door. By force of will, he’d kept silent, well aware she hadn’t managed to live so many centuries by being indiscreet or making foolish mistakes.

  Bottom line—Marika could take care of herself.

  She didn’t need him to tell her how. As a matter of fact, Marika didn’t really need him for anything.

  Dani was another story. Two years old, his daughter needed her daddy.

  Beck hadn’t realized until that moment how badly he yearned to be needed. The revelation so stunned him, made him so uncomfortable, that he got up and began to pace, trying to sort out the myriad unwelcome feelings churning inside him.

  He’d left the Protectors a bitter and disillusioned man, seeking only peace and solitude, believing somehow that time would heal all scars, both internal and external. Instead he’d found both passion and the tentative beginnings of hope.

  Dare he allow himself to trust Marika? How could he, when she’d made it so plain she felt both she and their daughter would be better off without him?

  Trust or not, in this she had no choice. He wanted to be part of his daughter’s life. Would be part of her life. Like it or leave it, that wasn’t going to change. Marika would have to get used to having him around.

  Finally, exhausted mentally, he climbed back on top of the bed and tried to calm his churning thoughts, aware he needed to focus if he wanted to contact Dani. Thankful Marika had gone out, he tried to prepare himself.

  After what seemed an eternity, she finally returned, entering the room as silently as she’d left. The first thing his sharp sense of smell detected was the bitter tang of blood, mingled with wisps of other scents—alcohol, cigarette smoke and the arid bite of human perspiration.

  Having fed, her skin seemed to glow with the quiet sheen of a polished pearl. She looked both ethereal and somehow more substantial, alluring and dangerous. Seeing her, his body stirred.

  Eyes glowing in the dim light, she crossed the room swiftly, climbing to sit in front of him.

  Fully aroused, he wanted her so badly he shook with it, so badly he couldn’t speak.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, reaching for him.

  He didn’t answer, didn’t have to. Letting his body speak for itself, he pulled her up on top of him, nestling her against his powerful erection. She gasped, then settled in close. Her clothes were in the way, and he helped her shed them, ignoring the tearing sound as he ripped off her sh
irt.

  Once she’d removed her jeans and panties, she pushed him back and straddled him.

  Sinking deep inside her was like coming home to his own personal slice of heaven and hell, all rolled into one.

  Full of fresh blood, she rode him as if she’d been gone for ages, rode him until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but let himself go. As he filled her with his essence and held her still while she contracted around him, he knew she was the one thing he couldn’t live without.

  His woman. His mate.

  As his breathing slowed, he continued to hold her. Miracle of miracles, she let him.

  Finally, he raised his head, meaning to kiss her mouth in thanks, but something in her face stopped him.

  Expression impassive, she watched him, once again motionless, looking so like a beautiful marble statue that he felt it like a physical wound. Their lovemaking had shattered his world. Had she not felt the same thing he had?

  He opened his mouth to ask her and…

  Mama! The shrill cry made him freeze. A quick glance at Marika and he realized she’d heard it, too.

  Mama, hurry, Dani sobbed. Bad man take Addie. She gone. Mama, I’m scared.

  “Where are you, baby?” Pushing herself to her feet, Marika spoke calmly, but Beck could hear the thread of panic under her smooth tone. “Tell Mama where you are so I can come and get you.”

  But the lights, Dani said, then began sobbing, her words unintelligible.

  He felt a frisson of fear. His helplessness enraged him.

  “The lights? What lights?”

  Dani’s cries became wails.

  “Baby, what’s happening?” Marika cried. “Where are you? Are you all right?”

  But their little girl didn’t answer. The sobs abruptly stopped, and the silence felt like a knife straight into his heart.

  One look at Marika and he knew she felt the same.

  “Come on.” Stepping into his jeans, Beck hurriedly dressed. “Though it’s barely dawn, people should be moving around soon. Let’s get outside and check the town one more time before we get back on the road. Maybe someone knows something about lights. If not, we can try to reach Dani again later.”